Aaaaand I'm back

One of my issues is that people simply don't understand. I hear a lot of "Just take it one day at a time." That's inaccurate. My life isn't something that comes naturally anymore. Before, I could go through my day being happy without much effort. I could go home and take care of my house, go grocery shopping, tend to my precious dog, and run errands without a second thought. I was in a routine that flowed very well in my life. My happiness was nearly effortless, because Steven made it that way. That doesn't happen anymore. I don't grocery shop hardly at all. I buy maybe a carton of milk and make sure I've got a few snacks and stuff for sandwiches. I have to depend on other people to help me take care of my dog to make sure she isn't lonely all day. Nothing in my life is effortless anymore. Every thought is carefully constructed, and every action is thoroughly planned. That is exhausting. I spend a great deal of time and energy deciding what the next right thing is, and then I put the same time and energy in to making it happen. One benefit of this process is that I'm slowly learning to trust myself. I no longer depend on others to make decisions for me. Therefore, I am less concerned with pleasing others and more concerned with pleasing myself.

Trust is an odd concept to process. The person I trusted for over 5 years is gone. Its just me. Here I am making decisions about my house, my life, and myself without his input. That's scary! Steven was smart, hardworking, and dedicated. I knew I didn't have to worry about bad decisions, because I trusted him. With his trust came a reassurance that life would be fulfilling, happy, and exciting together. Without his trust, I'm left wondering doubtfully about how fulfilling, happy, and exciting my life will really be. I still pray with nearly every thought I have that my life will be happy again. People tell me that the pain will eventually fade, or that there will eventually be an end in sight. I'm starting to realize that this doesn't stop. This tragedy will always be there. It doesn't go away with time, and I won't eventually stop asking questions. This is part of who I am, and it has made such a mark on my soul like a bad scar that will never go away. Listen. This doesn't go away. The grief may take a different face, and my outward appearance may lighten. This experience is such a part of me and the rest of my life that I find it near impossible to believe that there will be an end.

Faith and trust, in my experience, are not the same. Faith is an idea. Trust is a motion. For example, I have faith that my employer will not manipulate my bank account. I show that I trust them by providing them with my account information for the purposes of a direct deposit, and we sign a document indicating our mutual trust. Follow? I have faith that God and Steven have the answers. They know what's right for me, and God has a plan for me that has been carefully crafted to accentuate the best characteristics I have to offer the world. Where humans fail is in their interpretation of faith. Understand, I'm guilty as well. Our idea of God is so small and does him no justice. We are not capable of comprehending the beauty of God, heaven, and what our afterlife entails. We are also unable to understand that what God has planned is perfect (his definition of perfect, not ours). This is the area in which I especially fail. I can have all the faith in the world that God has a specific plan for me, but I am not at a point where I can trust him to execute this plan. There are no spoken words of reassurance, and there is nothing worldly that convinces me that I don't need that control. That's tough. God doesn't communicate on our level. There's no written plan we can look to to make our next decision. There's no phone call or email pointing the direction. He doesn't text, tweet, or update a facebook status. I see nothing and I hear nothing. My only solution is to speak when I can't hear and open my eyes when I can't see.

Where the sidewalk ends, you left a lot.

I still have good and bad days. More good than bad I think. What is really odd is what constitutes a good vs. bad day for me. A good day is when things feel real. I feel that I have control of the fact that Steven is not coming home. I am proactive, and my life feels organized. I am in control of my life and I feel confident about my ability to handle these challenges. I feel strong, and I feel confident in my ability to be independent and have control over my life and the decisions I make. On a bad day, nothing feels real. I find myself saying, "I can't believe this is my life," and "this feels like a complete nightmare." I also find myself not fully aware of reality. This is when I have urges to text or call Steven about odd things. For example, I recently had an urge to call him because I was feeling sad about him not being here with me. I think what frustrates me most is that these thoughts and urges are irrational. I understand why they happen, but it still frustrates me that I let those things happen. I'm not an irrational or illogical person, but this trick of the brain makes me feel like I'm losing my mind. Another negative emotion associated with a bad day is fear. My biggest fear as of late involves my future. I desperately want to feel and touch Steven again. The comfort of a shoulder to lie on and a little kiss while I make supper just isn't there. My fear is that I will become so desperate to feel that again that I'll just jump on any opportunity to make that happen. Terrified is actually a better word to describe that feeling. I've always been afraid of making mistakes, but this one is much bigger. I pray several times each day that God and Steven take care of this for me and help me to make good decisions, but I'm not able to let go of this completely. I guess the root of this is an underlying fear of ruining my life. I don't want to be the one that lost her husband and turned crazy (like in that song 'Cheyenne' by Garth Brooks). I would never intentionally ruin my life, but I fear that my clouded judgement won't allow me to make a good decision. Or, I fear that my clouded judgement will make a bad decision seem like a really good idea. This problem stems from the fact that things aren't happening fast enough for my brain. As I've stated before, my brain is absolutely dying to get back to its 'normal' routine of being a wife. Humans hate change. My brain hates that I'm not doing what I was good at. And I don't know how to cope with it, let alone fix it.

Baby Steps

For some reason, I was SO proud of myself for taking my own trash down the lane last night. It was no huge feat. Just two cans that I dragged down the lane after I got off work. I guess it made me feel very independent considering this was Steven's only household chore. Then I question why I'm so tickled to feel independent. I've always been that way since I was little. But for the last five years, I've never had to be independent. I was in many ways. However, Steven never put me in a position where I was forced to be so independent. That sparked the internal conversation about how different I am now. Really, I'm not all that different, but there are several things that have changed a little. I made a list (in no particular order of significance).

-I'm totally responsible for all decisions regarding my house and what I want to put in it. If I don't want 6 duck prints hanging in the living room, I can take them down! (They'll stay up for a little bit longer.)

-I have a whole bed to myself. That was an odd thing to adjust to this week. I deeply miss having an arm to hold on to and the elbow jabbing my ribs when I snore. Now, I have a huge pile of pillows and blankets to snuggle up with.

-I am responsible for my dog. I no longer have the safety net of Steven stopping by home between jobs to let her out and play with her. Luckily, I have plenty of people willing to give that cutie tons of attention!

-I haven't cooked a meal since 8/6/13. Again, I'm lucky to have my parents and my in-laws who are more than happy to feed me.

-Things are all around more quiet. I don't have the gun shop to fulfill my need for social interaction anymore. Steven isn't sitting in his recliner laughing his ass off at Duck Dynasty (although I can still hear it in my mind). His phone isn't ringing every 3 minutes during dinner. He isn't bolting out the door in a hurry to get something else done. When I'm in the car, he isn't singing (I miss that). I don't call him when I'm on my way home from work to see what he wants for supper.

-On a slightly positive note, I'm no longer worried about what vehicle may suddenly appear in the garage/driveway after an auction.

-I am responsible for making myself happy. I don't have a husband I can rely on to make me laugh when I've had a bad day. That's all on me, and I have to find a new way to make that happen.

Point: there is a whole piece of my life that just isn't there. I struggle with that, because I have no control over it. This isn't how I wanted my life to be, and this isn't what I had planned. I still can't figure out why this is how my life is supposed to be. Hi, my name is Kerrie, and I have no control over the hand that was dealt to me. What I can control (somewhat) is who I'm going to be. I found a quote on pinterest that says "She believed she could so she did." This is a rundown of who I wish to be.

-I will be independent. I will control the things I can and let go of the things I cannot.
-I will be happy. I will fill my life with people, places, and things that make me smile and make my heart feel full. I will accept these as positive things in my life without questioning them.
-I will ask for help. I will not let myself become unnecessarily stressed, and I will graciously accept help from those offering it out of genuine concern and support.
-I will accept the positive things in life without questioning their origin or doubting their alternative motives.
-I will set goals, and I will be wise enough to allow other people to help me achieve them.
-I will be a good person. I will let people in my life that help bring out that characteristic in me.
-I will love, because I know there is someone out there who deserves to have that part of me.
-I will be strong first and foremost for myself. I will also be strong for others by letting my life experiences be a pillar for those who feel the same/similar hurt as they struggle to figure out which way is up in their own life.
-I will not be the person that uses my experience as a crutch or an excuse for mistakes or poor decisions. I will not feel sorry for myself or accept special treatment. I am not fragile, I am strong. I will use it as an opportunity to grow as a person.
-I will make good decisions. I will learn from mistakes and use those mistakes as opportunities to make myself a better person.

Inked!

I got a tattoo last Thursday. It reads "Spirit of a Storm." How appropriate. You have two choices about how to respond to my tattoo: 1. Ignore it. 2. Comment on how good it looks and how I made a good decision. This goes along the lines of 'if I want to hear your opinion, I'll tell you what it is.' This is a list of inappropriate responses:

-Staring at it without making a comment. Take a picture, it will last longer.
-Asking me if tattoos are acceptable in my line of work. (I'm not dumb enough to risk my career for a tattoo...)
-Asking me if I was really ready to get a tattoo. Oh well, too late.
-Telling me what I should have gotten instead. Bad for your health.

My attitude lately has been a little weird, and I'm not sure I can describe it accurately. I'll certainly try. Grief is such a funky thing to feel! It is not a step by step process, rather a float-between mix of several emotions at one time. Thus far, I've been at one time angry-sad-depressed, angry-guilty-bargaining, and angry-happy-productive. There is no one feeling that occurs in a single moment. Its all mixed. In the last few days, I've felt a shift. There are still feelings of anger, guilt, sadness, and depression (minimal). However, I've adopted a new perspective. What I've been through at 23 years old must be God and Steven's way of letting me shine for the world. I'm special. Not many get to see this extent of love and support from family, and not a lot of people can say that they are thriving on their own at this age. I'm doing this (for the most part) by myself. That isn't to discount the tremendous help I've had to clean my house, feed me, and simply be with me for the support I so desperately needed. Look at me. I'm 23 years old, I own a wonderful house, I have a beautiful puppy, I have a great support system, I have a career, I have a new Jeep, and I've spent the last five years completely head over heels in love with someone who wanted nothing more out of life than to love me back and make me happy. Minus having children, I have lived what I consider a full life in 23 years. I had more in 23 years than some people have in 73 years. Now, I get to start it all over. I get to live a whole new life again. I get to do it all again! How special. I know I can't have the other life back (that's part of the accepting phase that I'm starting to very slowly feel). I'm letting go of things I can't control. What I can control is how I make this reality in to my own new feeling of happiness. I'm not 'moving on' or 'getting over it'. I'm 'going with it'. I'm continuing to move in ways that 1 month ago I never thought possible. I'm progressing and controlling the things that I can. I have a new appreciation for how unique people are. I may never understand why this is my reality or why this happened to me, but I can't control that. What I can control is how I respond to it, and how I respond to it is going to make me a better person.

Quote of today: "Its easy to say 'God needed another angel' when he didn't ask for yours back." It's so easy to scream back "No, he didn't. He was perfectly fine here with me where we had an amazing life together. What good is he in heaven when I need him so badly here." Stating that God has another angel or he's with God now does little to console grief. Its not good enough. My human mind is not capable of understanding Godly matters (hence, the concept of faith). I haven't made it to the part of healing where I can accept that he's happy elsewhere. It's like a slap in the face to me. Trying to convince me that someone is better off with God than here with me does nothing to console me.

Its weird to watch grief from the outside when experiencing it inside. As I watch a community grieve over a devastating murder of a young child, I can't help but get frustrated every time I open my facebook. First, a public media site is the last place to discuss your version of your neighbor's version of their friend's version of the story. I believe everyone has a right to their own opinion, but their choice of expression is doing far more harm than good. I'm also impressed with how much of the county has suddenly, overnight acquired a degree in law or 20 years experience in law enforcement. Its also fascinating how many people tell the story as if they were a fly on the wall of the victim's home. When I look out in to the social media world, I see a misled population that thinks they know the first thing about death, grief, investigations, and mourning. That's frustrating for me. I agree that this story deserves attention, but plastering theories and strange news articles is not appropriate. If you knew anything about how horrible rumors feel, you may think twice about what you entertain. If you knew anything about how awful it is to be in public and have people stare at you as if to say 'that's the girl that lost her husband', maybe you'd think twice. If you had any idea what it felt like to suddenly be 'that person' that no one knew a week earlier, you'd think twice. I'm beyond frustrated with the ignorance.

Psalm 23:4

"Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil."

This is exactly how I am trying to feel about today. I had an unfortunate encounter with a suit-and-tie-asshole today who had no reservations about flexing his government muscles in my face regarding, of all things, substance abuse client files. However insignificant his professional and opinionated 'findings', he was sure to inform me that I have much to learn, and that although my mistakes may be innocent, they are still incorrect practice. Thanks for the trigger, asshole.

But then that asshole got me thinking. He doesn't know me. He doesn't know that I'm determined and I love my job. I'm a number to him. He shows up in his see-through dress shirt, cheesy tie, and earring as if to say "I have a doctorate and get paid to be an asshole. Step aside, and let me show you how its done!" Just doing his job, right? The memorial mass for those recently departed was tonight at the hospital chapel. I want to share the first reading.

The souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them.
They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead; and their passing away was thought an affliction and their going forth from us, utter destruction.
But they are in peace.
For if before men, indeed, they be punished, yet is their hope full of immortality;
Chastised a little, they shall be greatly blessed, because God tried them and found the worthy of himself.
As gold in the furnace, he proved them, and as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself.
In the time of their visitation they shall shine, and shall dart about as sparks through stubble;
They shall judge nations and rule over peoples, and the Lord shall be their King forever.
Those who trust in him shall understand truth, and the faithful shall abide with him in love:
Because grace and mercy are with his holy ones, and his care is with his elect.

Steven was tested. He was tried in the face of hell as he stared directly in to the eyes of a human demon, and God found him worthy. Steven 'did his time', if you will. That leaves me here still walking through the fire every day. I won't say I'm never afraid. In fact, I'm scared every day. But that doesn't mean I don't try.

A spoonful of sugar...

So I thought I needed medication. This is only because I was having such a difficult time regulating my emotions. I understand that this is normal for the circumstances, but it was driving me batty. One hour I'd be on top of the world and ready to take on anything life threw my way. The next hour, it would be a challenge to get up out of a chair. I just wanted to zone out and watch the world fly by without a single care. I was tired of going up and down and up and down all the time. And I wanted off of the Xanax. I tried Prozac this week. The lowest dose possible. I quit taking that today. Tired doesn't really describe the feeling, and neither does depressed. I was just blank since about Wednesday. I didn't feel like going to my house or talking to anyone or blogging or working. I was sitting in sessions with clients and had to make a huge effort to appear to be listening to them. Bad news.

Today I'm feeling much much better. I was productive at my house today. I sorted through all of the mail I had sitting in my kitchen, watered my flowers, cleaned up clutter (loose screws, misc ammo, pocket knives, pens, etc.), and decorated. I went to Menards and bought a few fall decorations to put on my front door and in my flower garden. I don't even care if Steven doesn't like them or thinks they are stupid. I also bought shutters for the house. My volunteer pumpkin is HUGE. Dad counted about 10 tiny little pumpkins growing on it. I'm so glad Steven didn't dig it up and kill it like he said he was going to do. Dad cleaned up some of my garage and put together my little porch table. I spray painted it hunter green to match the house. He also put up my smoke detectors that I bought Steven for his birthday back in January. Mitch and Shawn came over with their women. They put themselves to work cleaning out the cabin. No joke, they used a broom and everything!

I got in my Jeep to leave, and "When Will I Be Loved" came on the radio. I can't get that thought out of my mind. I can't be alone forever. I have no desire to love anyone else. I have no desire to date anyone else. However, I can't shake the feeling/desire to feel that love again. I almost feel guilty for feeling that way, but I know I shouldn't. I just don't understand how this is going to work. It scares me. Honestly, I don't think I'm scared of anything else really. I'm only scared by the fact that I now have no idea what the rest of my life is going to be like. I understand that a lot of people feel this way every day, but I did have it figured out. At least the important things. I knew who I'd be with, I knew where I was living, I knew our careers, and a rough plan to have children a few years down the road (again, I'm not pregnant like the rumors are still suggesting...). Now, I have no idea. This doesn't sit well with a control freak like me. This scares the shit out of me.

I had a dream the other night that Steven was in the Effingham Co Jail instead of being dead. When I learned this, I headed straight for the jail and ran in to an acquaintance. I asked if I could see Steven. He said, "Oh, he's not here. He's doing work release. He drives to Memphis everyday to look for work." (Work release, in real life, doesn't work like that...but hey, its a dream). I asked when he would be back, and this person indicated that Steven didn't really want to be found. Almost like he just wanted to fly under the radar and disappear instead of being with me.

In my group at work last Thursday, we processed a moral dilemma exercise involving a man who couldn't get enough money for the live saving remedy his wife so desperately needed. We discussed stealing the remedy, stealing money, whether he loved his wife or not (and if that mattered...), what kind of consequence he would suffer should he be caught stealing, and whether he would be responsible for his wife's death should he decide not to obtain the remedy illegally. This is an interesting dilemma to process while grieving. I was shocked to hear that many people in this group were not willing to spend more than about 3 weeks in jail if it meant their loved one would survive. Granted, this is a hypothetical situation, but it just got me thinking of all the things I would do or not do to have Steven here even for just a few more minutes. I'd do some crazy shit, but I know he's happy. He finds a way to tell me that every day.

Out Of The Darkness- AFSP Fundraiser Walk

On Saturday September 28th, Heartland Human Services (where I work) will be holding their annual community walk to raise awareness for suicide prevention. We are fundraising for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP). This organization promotes research in drug and alcohol use related to suicide risk, youth prevention campaigns, research in genetic, biological and behavior factors that may contribute to suicide risk, and (my favorite) resources and support for suicide survivors (healing conferences, books, webinars, etc.).

In the beginning of my journey, I was overwhelmed with the volume of people wanting to help. Here's your chance. Please show up to the Effingham Community Park on 9/28 at 9am with a donation to register to walk. This is not a big 5K or a race. It is simply a community gathering to walk in memory of those lost and to walk in support of those left behind.

Another way to show your support is to purchase a memorial sign. These signs will be displayed along the park's path. Signs are $15. You can request any message be written on the sign ("In memory of...", "Donated by....", etc). After the walk, you are free to take your sign with you. If you wish to purchase a sign, get in touch with me. All proceeds from the sale of these signs goes toward meeting our AFSP fundraising goal. If interested, I have a breakdown of how the AFSP uses these funds to support their mission.

This walk is important to me. I volunteered to be on this committee before I knew how much I would be impacted. Please come show your support for this community so deeply impacted by those lost to suicide. You don't even have to walk if you're feeling lazy. A donation will suffice :) I will be there walking, and I hope to see my support system there with me!

If you need more information about the walk, donating, or purchasing a sign, you can call me at 217-821-8398 or Heartland Human Services at 217-347-7179. Thanks!!

Red Rock and Lane Frost were two of a kind.

This song is called "Red Rock" by Smokin' Armadillos. I know I've made a lot of references to the movie 8 Seconds and Lane Frost, but I can't help but see so many similarities between Steven's battle and Lane's battle with Red Rock. Call it cheesy or cliche', but I think this is Steven's way of helping me understand right here and right now. Soon enough, it will be my turn to go up against Red Rock.

A few years back in an unknown place.

A little bull was born with a dark red face.

In a pen he was gentle,

But in the chute...a buckin' machine.

Mind over matter keeps you on for eight,

But it doesn't matter when they open that gate.

For this living explosion with the dark red shell,

He'll give you a ride...through hell!

Now every few years a man comes along,

He knows what he's doing and won't do it wrong.

He'll conquer the odds, he'll pass the test,

Above and beyond...higher than the rest.

So what do ya do, when you've done it all.

You've climbed every mountain and jumped every wall.

Well the chance comes along like a great big feast.

The chance for the hero...to ride the red beast.

(chorus)

They said he can be beat, he's just one of the rest,

But he couldn't be tamed, cause he gave 'em his best.

He's ready to go so don't be a fool,

He jumps like a rabbit and kicks like a mule.

He's quicker than a quarter horse, aggressive as a hawk,

This mountain of muscle...Red Rock.

There were seven tough battles between the two gods,

And everyone thought the bull had the odds,

But the man had heart, and red finally lost,

Four, eight second rides to the mighty Lane Frost.

Now both of them retired in their own special way,

But they'll both be remembered every single day.

They had desire to win and the hearts to try,

Red Rock and Lane Frost...were two of a kind.

I'm grieving as fast as I can!

Ok, I stole the title of this post from a book I saw online while googling grief support. It's not my original idea, but I feel like its something I would have come up with. And how true it is. In my brain's never-ending struggle to get through this 'as fast as I can', I get frustrated. Lately, its been magnified by the fact that I'm sick and droopy. I haven't felt well enough to hop in my Jeep and change scenery when I feel restless. I haven't felt well enough to go chill at my house, water my flowers, or visit with a few friends. I've been stuck even more so with this stupid head cold.

I've posted a lot about the brain, but this is how I understand things. My brain is uncomfortable, to put it lightly. It hates all of these negative stimuli, so its trying to rid of them. And its pissing me off. My brain says, "You don't have a husband now. That doesn't feel right at all! Find another one." My heart says, "What the f*** is your problem? Sure I want my husband back, but not just any husband. That's not the way the world works, brain. You're wrong." The brain fights back, "But this is what you know how to do. You know how to be a wife, and you're damn good at it. Find that husband!" My heart yells back, "I'M GRIEVING AS FAST AS I CAN!" My brain is in true survival mode as it tries to get me back to the awesome cooking, cleaning, and loving wife I once was. Thanks brain, but you're not helping.

My heart knows how big my love is for Steven. I struggle daily with the fact that there will eventually be someone else to fill that role. They will not be a replacement for the love I have for Steven, but there will be someone who fills the role of husband in my life. Its certainly not going to be soon, but I just feel that this is the truth. Steven would want that for me. He so enjoyed taking care of me and providing for me. I have faith that he will send me someone to fill that role again. However, my heart is conflicted with this one (shocker...). He set the bar really high. He knew that too. I told him several times that I'd rather fight with him than flirt with anyone else. So many things I love about Steven were so unique to his character that I find it hard to believe that I could see that again in someone else. Only Steven knows my taste (although he always claimed I had poor taste marrying him). So, I've been praying that at the right time in my life he will send me someone who can fill that role for me and pick up where he left off. Someone with which I can share the greatest parts about me. That's not right now, but its going to happen at some point. I also know that when it does happen, it will be too soon for some people and not soon enough for others. To those people, I say 'screw you'.

I've been staying at my parents' house. This has been a huge blessing, and it really works out well. Someone is always here, and Cheyenne doesn't have to stay by herself all day. Lord knows she loves that attention. The only thing wrong with this is the fact that I'm not home. I want so badly to be back home, but I think this is one of my brain's tricks. My brain wants me to be back home, because that's where I was the best version of myself. There, I was that wife who cooked, cleaned, and did laundry. I'm being very cautious about moving back home, because I know that this is just a brain trick to get me to be back in that wife role I was so good at. Again, nice try brain but I'm not falling for that just yet.

Yuck

I'm sick. It never fails. Anytime I get a severe allergy attack, it turns in to a head cold. Added to that, the last four weeks have been taxing on me both physically and emotionally. I'm drained. But that isn't stopping anything. Like I've discussed before, the world is still going on. There's no stopping just because I'm grieving or because my head feels like a hot air balloon. Nope, no one is waiting on me. Damn it.

It's labor day. A day to celebrate and thank the hard workers out there who spend their days making a living for those they love. I assure you that Steven would have been working today. He worked the day after our wedding while I was still in bed sleeping off the hangover. He tried selling guns on our honeymoon to a couple from St. Louis. He worked on Christmas Eve (don't get me started). That was his life. He worked ALL THE TIME. I feel that right now he's probably making some improvements to the pearly gates, or talking God in to building on to heaven. Maybe he's selling guns to old war veterans. Maybe he's living in a hut on a beach with a tiny shitty boat with long hair and a long beard chilling to Kenny Chesney music and making tiki jewelry. What ever he's doing, I'm sure he's busy, and I'm sure he's the best at it.