Reclaiming Myself and Where Have I Been?

 I've been here. Except not. In an effort to understand myself better, I've taken some time off of here and most of the socials (except for Instagram because I talk to myself in stories, it's free therapy ha) 

Last week, I had a conversation with a stranger and it showed me that my self esteem is still very much a mess from 6 years ago, which led me to do an emotional deep dive...and think about what's healthy and unhealthy for me. 

What happened over the last 6 years hasn't been my fault: not the pandemic, not the infidelity, not Hurricane Helene, or my mentor's health issues, or my own health issues last Fall. But the way I've reacted to any and all of it has been so unhealthy, and I need to own that. 

So, little by little, I'm doing more of the things that I love and putting order to my emotions, and my house, and my life. It's been a lot of saying "no" to things and people and places. It's been a lot of saying "no" to myself. too. 

Slowly but surely I am getting to where I need to be. I should be back on Sunday with my weekly picture post, and on Monday with Happy Homemaker Monday, and maybe one day a recipe or something fun. It's hard to create when you're living in survival mode, but I'm determined to leave that mode behind. 

I just wanted to tell everybody I'm not pulling a disappearing act. I'm still here. I'm just processing. 

Meanwhile, enjoy these pictures of flowers from the past few weeks. 

I'm Terrible At Blogging.

 It's been over a year. 

So much has changed. Ella is 20 (WHAT), and Goose is 9 (DOUBLE WHAT)

I miss my littler corner or the blogosphere. I miss writing, and drawing and taking pictures and living. 

Let me tell you guys, finding out you're being cheated on in your marriage sucks. Letting other people into your life, even on a friend level, then finding out they're completely awful also sucks. Add to it a hurricane, having to become a home-health aide (not really, I'm still a farmer, but my mentor is 93 and so much stuff is dumped off on me) overnight, while keeping up all responsibilities...oof. 

It's been downright depressing, and to be honest, I've been depressed. I was in church today, and the realization was this: other than God, NOBODY IS COMING TO SAVE ME. I have to pray, yes, but I also have to kick myself in the butt and pick myself up. 

For two decades, I made excuses for my daughters' Dad, but the fact is, he is who he is, and I'm done protecting him, on social media and in real life. It is what it is, he is who he is. I have to be better than that, and since I've always been the stability in the girls' lives, it's not that hard. 

But, full disclosure, I had to apologize to my daughters tonight. I haven't been the Mom they've deserved, and that's not okay. I'm adult enough to realize when I have to make amends. Ella, at 20, has always been my stoic and quiet kid, and she just said, "It's not your fault, Mom." Goose, at 9, my wild child, said, "I know I haven't always been the best daughter." 

And guys, I don't deserve these kids. I lucked out so hard. Because when all of this was said and done, we went on the swings and hooted and hollered and played "Cowboy, Take Me Away" and laughed way too much. I had a moment of pure unfiltered JOY on that dumb swing. It's all still out there. It may have gotten lost somewhere between infidelity and emotional abuse and manipulation and just straight up despression, but it's still there. 

And my kids need their Mom. 

At the end of the day, I'm all they've got. 

At Some Point, I Have To Write Something

 ...and it may as well be now.

I miss blogging. I miss what the internet was, before we were expected to consume news and opinions and everything from everywhere. I miss when people didn't try to tell me what or how to believe or how to raise my kids or even how to recover from trauma. 

Just because it's on the internet doesn't mean it's there for me to see, or to read, or to fret over. 

I realized the other day how much I missed Pinterest. Not making Pinterest boards or what have you, just looking at things that interest me. Maybe I want to make a skirt. Maybe I want a new meatball recipe. Not two hundred ads, or the latest political arguments. 

I went out to dinner with a friend on Friday, and we stopped by a store and bought some books. And y'all, I missed BOOKS so much. Stephen King isn't gonna tell me who to vote for, or play me an ad for car insurance. I read a book nearly from beginning to end after work today. I laughed and cried, and held my breath. And nobody interrupted my book to play me an ad about medication and its side effects. 

I even have a hard time watching movies. When did we become so disregulated, y'all? What the heck happened and how do we fix it? 

I think going outside helps. Slapping the DND button on my phone and my watch helps. Waking up early and lighting a candle helps. 

I seriously do not think we were meant to live the way we are living. 

And I don't think I'll be doing that anymore. 

Just two pictures I've taken over the past few days. 

On Basic Human Decency

A while ago, I saw a movie where a girl pretends to be pregnant, to see if people treat her any differently.  I think it was called The Pregnancy Project. People DID treat her differently, it was sobering to see how people's judgments of a situation affect the way they behave toward others.

Over the last year, I've lost a bunch of weight.
When I was bigger, nobody was ever mean to me about it. (Although one guy, while under the influence of who knows what called me "that fat girl", and a friend told me "Well, you were never really *that* big)
But, I've noticed, since losing the weight, people are quicker to be nicer to me. A door held open here, a smile there.

And honestly it makes me sad.

Because I've seen people judging others. Based on their size. Or their race. Or their gender. Or gender preference.

It happens so often.  There's a person bigger than you at the grocery store, and you make a little judgment about what they are buying.

You find out someone you know has had an abortion, and you immediately jump to conclusions.

There's an interracial couple, and judgments are made.

Someone you know comes out of the closet and the gay slurs fly.

Is this what our world is reduced to?

In a world that celebrates individuality, why are we so quick to judge someone who is different? Why does someone's size, or their skin color, or gender, or sexual affiliation bother us so much?

People's personal lives are none of our business. But it is OUR business to be kind to everybody. Whether you're religious or not, I'm sure you would like to be treated with kindness.

Why are we so quick to preach kindness or acceptance, and then do the exact opposite?

It's 2020, and we are moving backwards.

Please, just be kind. Be a good Christian. Be a good person. Be a good human being. Whatever you are, BE KIND.

On Missing Them

Last week, I started a book called "Songs for the Missing", and I absolutely knew that it was going to break my heart.

I was right, but not in the way you would think, not even in the way that I thought.

The book is about a missing girl, and the way her family deals with the fallout of her going missing, and simply about them missing her.

The situation is certainly heartbreaking, but what broke me was what I read between the lines. Her Dad was my undoing, because he reminded me of my Dad. His name was even Ed. He was a tireless individual, doing everything he could to find his daughter. He would have done anything for his family, the way my Dad always did.

Time going on was also my undoing. The missing girl's younger sister grew up, time went on. Everybody moved on. Time marched on.

Time marches on here, too.
Ella will turn 14 in a few months.
11 days later, Josie will turn 3.

In July, it will be 2 years without my Dad.
On my 37th birthday, Grandpa Bruce will have been gone a whole year.

Time marches on, but it only takes a memory to make it stand painfully still.

One whiff of Caress body wash, and I'm immediately back in grade school, in my Dad's house.
One taste of an Alpine strawberry, and Ella and I are visiting my parents in 2016, following my Dad around his garden, while he shows us everything.

All I have to do is hear "Faded Love" on a violin, and I'm in Grandpa Bruce's living room, watching him play.
Every time I make potato soup, I can still hear him tell me that it's not really potato soup unless I add carrots and celery.

Tonight, the memories are too much. I'm doubled over, crying.
I spent so much time as a loss Mom, who grieved the babies she didn't get to know.
I couldn't imagine how hard it would be to grieve two people I knew very very well. There are so many memories. So many reminders. So much that can absolutely wreck me.

One thing I learned from missing my babies is that there is no easy "over" here.
There is only through.

On snowy nights like this, when I cry for the two men who have shaped my life so much...I have to cry. I have to allow myself to feel this, even if it's terrible and frightening. Because it won't ALWAYS be terrible and frightening. It won't ALWAYS be so dark. I know there's going to be a day when I can look at pictures of Dad and not miss him with such despair. There's going to be a day when I drive past Grandpa's house and not cry.

Until then, I live my life. I hang tight to the fact that as long as someone is missed and loved, they are not really gone. I live the best parts of them and adhere them to my person. I honor their memory.

In that way, they are eternal.

On Giving a Damn

Today I saw this quote...

And at first, I thought, "Right on!"
But then it started to bother me. And bother me. And even after I walked away from the laptop, it was still bothering me.

At one point, many years ago, I didn't give a damn. And I wasn't happy.

And then I did give a damn. Too much, in fact, and about all of the wrong things. And I wasn't happy then either.

Honestly, I think you have to care. You have to "give a damn."

If we don't care about ourselves, that throws our life out of balance. If we don't care about others, the world becomes a pretty sad place.

There are things we shouldn't care about. The weight of other people's judgments. Other people's wrong opinions about us. Those were things I used to care about greatly. If someone said something negative about me, it threw me into a tailspin. After a while, after some growing up and soul searching and realizing that those people are just as messed up as I am, it just didn't matter anymore. Somewhere, I read that "what other people think of you is none of your business, " and it isn't. If someone thinks I'm a great person, great. If they don't, that's great too.

But on the whole, the world is a nicer place and we are nicer people if we care. There is too much wrong on this planet not to.

So, please, give a damn.

At least a little.