inconceivable

pexels-photo-151354.jpegIt’s a restless life I need to live. I need to have boundaries, and then I need to push up against those boundaries to see if they fit me, if I can live within certain constraints of polite society.

I just wrote my husband a letter this week, and in that letter I said when he met me I was so young and idealistic that I didn’t even know if I’d ever take his name.

Fast forward three kids, two of whom are still with us, and people question why I mention the third. I would not be who I am today without that loss.

And, that loss came CRASHING back into my life this year. It’s all a very convoluted story, and I’m not ready to publicly share it, but everyone who knows me well, knows how November 9th and May 15th are wrapped into my existence. Our second child was due on May 15th. My best friend’s birthday.

 

It didn’t happen. November 9th didn’t even happen in 2002. We found out the baby miscarried sometime in the month of October at a routine doctors appointment on November 7th, where they couldn’t find a heartbeat, and it just happened to be the very same day my mom had the heart attack that took her life. It was a hell of a week for my family.

 

This year, we moved.

 

That year, we also moved. 2002.

 

It was too reminiscent. My brain couldn’t process the traumas that I was enduring. Traumatic Brain Injuries. Death. Anxiety. Fear. Anger. It all leads to the dark side.

 

Fast forward.

 

It’s January again, now 2018. A new year, a new beginning, and a friend pens the words: Am I fundamentally miserable? Am I destined to be miserable? I understand the hate and contempt of the word CONTENT. Always striving. Constantly a state that is unattainable, just out of reach. We grasp and grip, and it (this fleeting life) slips through our fingers.

 

I respond from the depths of my core. NO! Absolutely not, but you are a restless spirit.

 

Someone I’ve been working for, has made me doubt a prior diagnosis of generalized anxiety disorder, non-specific, and a whole host of other mumbo jumbo that has been thrown at me, and made me question if there isn’t a quick fix in “Mydayis”. Another amphetamine quick fix to help with problems from ADD. Do I have it? Doesn’t anyone striving in America NOT have it?

 

mydayis

There. I answer questions with questions all of the time.

 

But today, on my phone, are screenshots (attached—just to show that it’s one of those: “YOU CAN’T MAKE THIS UP!” stuff…because I wanted to speak with my doctors when I return to MN, see if this time an ADHD med could help. I swear I’ve tried them all…but this one is new. This one is shiny. This one looks like how I might perceive myself? Can I contain my restless spirit? Why isn’t happiness a mat that sits on my doorway? And, do you have to let it linger????

 

“The answer my friend, is blowin in the wind. The answer is blowin in the wind.”

 

I come home (my VBRO home away from home) to the news of 46 year old superstar, Dolores O’Riordan, lead singer of The Cranberries, suddenly and inexplicably dead…three children now motherless, and I think:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Ejga4kJUts

She had no idea there was less than one year left. And, earlier at dinner, I’m trying to eat my glorious Monday night special at Applebees, and I’m hearing all about this mother of two, killed by a crazy twist of fate…mistaken identity, twisted love triangle, and I tell my dad, “She was killed because she had a job.” The other woman the assailants were targeting and were hired to kill, happenstance would have it, was also employed at the same place.

The violence is beyond my comprehension. The killers knew they had the wrong woman and decided to rob her first, torture her, and then just kill her anyway. More children are motherless. It puts me on edge, and I want to walk my dog before it gets dark. It’s all consuming. Get home before dark.

http://www.wftv.com/news/local/suspects-accused-of-killing-osceola-county-woman-mistaken-as-murder-for-hire-target-in-jail/683664929

 

The story is reported on channel 9, wftv, and I see it as WTF tv. WTF.

 

It’s so beyond anything. You can’t make this up.

 

And, I’m anxiety riddled, because why???? Because why, you ask????

 

I’m taking a little vacation. It might just be forever. I just might refuse to return to what people in America call sane behavior. Will anyone ever blame me?

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15- There’s still time for you…

15

I love the song I posted with the first blog post two years ago.

And, I’ve written more than 10 entries for the blog…and yet…not a single published one.

I live with very private people.  It’s hard to know what’s okay to share. And I struggle with publishing something less than perfect.

Perfectionism?  Me, a Perfectionist?

What a tough life I create for myself. I know it, and I know that my daughter knows it.  Now 15, what a stunning beauty she’s become.  She’s absolutely perfect, exactly as she is.  She makes her daddy and me so proud.  So proud.  And, I know that most of the time she’s proud of herself.  And yet, we hear that critical voice inside of our own heads.

The best analogy I have seen, is the butterfly…

  butterfly

If we lost it all, and this was the last year here on Earth, I’d hope that everyone would understand that each and every one of us did exactly what we could, and we did our best at that as well.

I’m struggling with the concept of failure.  Three years ago, I wished away my life.  I said to myself that EVERYTHING had to change.  And it has.

And I’m struggling that I invited all of the change into my life, and I’m struggling with enjoying the change, reaping the new benefits, and appreciating what I still have. I often try to remember that nothing is forever.

I’ve been blessed with moments of joy beyond comprehension.  I try to imagine the big picture.  I try to be thankful for every simple blessing each day—I’m aware that tomorrow is never guaranteed, hence the blog.

So, here’s my special and amazing 15 year old.  And, I see my 15 year old self in her.  I see before the anxiety started with the death of my 15 year old best friend.  I see the anxiety and its effects every day, as my child turned 15, and the flute that my best friend played came into her possession.  What a gift from the universe.

I see her driving.  I struggle with letting her ride with other young drivers.

And—I recognize what a gift I’ve been blessed with…to have such amazing children.

What a gift to experience this life.

This very life right now.

If this were my final year, I’d hope I told my loved ones often enough for them to remember every day for the rest of their lives, that we’re all rooting for their success.  The universe wants us to succeed.  I know that my mom is rooting for me.  I know she sends me positive energy when I’m nervous and I might work myself into a tizzy!  I know that my best friend still also sends loving energy as well. Life’s a journey.  It’s short.  Change is constant.

 

Look at this beauty.  Ponder how she’s so different from her brother, who is equally amazing, and yet, almost exactly the opposite.  The song I post this time always rings in my head at 3am.  When I see 3am, I wonder what rain I’m fearing.  I wish that I’d just learn to dance in the rain, enjoy the darkness, the sounds of silence, find the balance, not feel so alone, and I wish that any lack of sleep will not have negative repercussions the next day!  I hear Mike singing.  Love.  Protection.  I have nothing to fear.  I struggle to know it.  To believe it.

 

15….there’s still time for you.

When you only have 100 years to live. 

 

Another blink of an eye…when you’ve only got 100 years to live–Five For Fighting

A year ago tonight, a major event happened in my life.  I think that there are always times where you look back, and you can recognize clearly defined milestones and crossroads.  A year ago was a crossroads.  Tonight, a year later, I launch my blog:  “If there were only a single year left!”  It’s clearly a work in progress, as I have ZERO experience blogging.  I don’t know if I should write DH for the dear husband, and if I should change the names and dates to protect the innocent!  We are going with everything that’s FREE, and we are starting out public.

I am definitely an “over sharer” and my family  consists mostly of introverts.  This is a huge conundrum that I must deal with!

I hope that I am not psychic and that nothing tragic befalls my family in one year.  I hope to be writing this blog decades from now, counting my blessings, but seeing this as the path I was meant to take.  You want to say, “It all started with the decision to spend time developing my craft, correct?”  I want to write.  I love to journal.  Blogging is very natural.  The published word will help me stay positive.