7 spanish angels

It just keeps getting better. Remember about a year ago when i was so upset that i couldnt catch a break? Im still waiting. I have a beautiful tree in my living room, and i went a whole afternoon shopping by myself. Ive been out woth friends having a great time, but none of that is fixing christmas. I feel like im still in october. Maybe my mind froze itself there to prepare for a significant surge of emotions november through january. Today ive felt as if im tangled in a mess of rope waving my arms trying to get out. At the same time im being sprayed by a cold hose and everyone is laughing. That is what i feel right now. Such a shame. A cryin shame. Last year i can remember thinking, 'just get through this one...surelyby next year i will have someone to spend time with.' Now what do i tell myself? By easter? By summer? I dont know whats supposed to happen or where to start or if i should even be trying? Whatever i have been doing has got me this far, but thats not far enough for me. I dont even know, and neither does anyone else. I wamt to scream at the world and at God that i had everything figured out and now thats fucked. So im having to start over and rebuild. Here we go.

Halleluia, holy shit. Wheres the tylenol?

poof

Still a big hole. I'm not sure why I felt the need to follow up with that, but I am. Today has been especially sad and angry, and I'm not sure why. I don't want to listen to people complain about their problems today. It's a day where I find it difficult to bite my tongue and be fully engaged in real life. I haven't been able to focus at all, and I find myself drifting so far that I'm completely missing chunks of peoples' conversations. That's not good. I'd give everything I have for this to go away. I think I've already figured out that I can be strong and independent. I don't need the world to continue testing me on that. Gimme a break...

burnin it down

10 days til Christmas, and I don't feel like my season has started. I haven't had time to feel Christmas, and that really sucks. I feel like I'm tip-toeing around everyone else's broken glass. Like I've been holding my breath since November. I don't even know where to put all of these feelings! All I know is that it feels like shit, and that's about all I can tell you. I need a distraction. I need holidays and birthdays to be over with so any energy I have can be put in to finding that distraction. Make the hole not feel so huge.

Hand turkeys

Since I have an opinion about almost everything, you can imagine my feelings toward the violence crap in MO. But I'm also angry about others who feel the need to publicly state their opinion. Here's why:

"I'm not racist by any means, but..."
"I accept people of all colors, and..."
"If this was black on white, it would be different because..."

Best way to rid of racism? Stop talking about it.
The country is creating a monster and being afraid of it at the same time. Why do we need to clarify that "I'm not racist, but..." Are you afraid people think you are racist? Guilty conscience? I don't know. Why state that? Why give people the ammo to use that against you, because you know that some ass is going to spark a debate on facebook for the hell of it, manipulate your comments, and then throw "But I thought you said you weren't racist?!"All races, religions, and nationalities are guilty of creating this. All social groups contribute as well. "I'm not judging, but [Catholics/Jews/Muslims/Buddhists] would be better people if they just became like us!" Yes, religion. Here we go. We are here to execute the plan God has created for us. Minimally, I feel that the plans can be all broken down to "love one another." If I am loving my neighbor, I am not worried about being judged as a racist. If I'm loving my coworker, I'm not being judged because he is a recovering addict. If I'm loving the unlovable, I'm not judged as an attention seeker. (Similarly, if I'm not breaking the law, I am not going to jail...). We love the best of the best and the worst of the worst. Well, we should. Sure, it changes things when the best of the best are making six figure salaries, but it shouldn't.

Wanna talk about the sportsman's complex being erected against the wishes of the community? Best of the best utilizing their power to out voice (not out vote) the worst of the worst and everyone in between. $5 million. THIS is what that could have looked like for Effingham...yes Effingham:

340,000 meals for a family of four
10,000 months worth of rent
167,000 weeks worth of fuel costs
143,000 monthly unlimited bus passes
5,618,000 boxes of mac n cheese
200,000 cans of baby formula
250,000 1-hr drug and alcohol counseling sessions
167,000 nights in a safe motel for battered women and kids
100,000 Thanksgiving dinners
50,000 kids who get to have a Christmas
AND funding to offset the cost for pro bono services at HHS.

There it is, guys. The best way I can describe my problem with the world.

If only

The flashbacks went away for a little while. I was probably distracted by a lot of things. Slowly, they're creeping back in. The biggest one has been of Steven standing across the room from me in the same outfit he was buried in, and his wedding ring is so visible. I see him, but my eyes are on that ring. I still have thoughts that he might just come out of hiding to see me for just a few minutes to hug me and tell me he loves me and is OK. I'm waiting for his truck to pull in and him run inside the house. I imagine him looking aged and worn and exhausted from running and keeping it all a secret. I imagine that me getting to see him is a secret. It wouldn't matter that anyone else knew he was still here. Just me. I've had too many dreams that he returns in this very scenario, and he can only stay long enough to hug me, give me a kiss, and tell me that he's OK, and no one else can know he was here because he'd never be able to come back if other people knew he was alive. This year's holidays are going to be far worse than the last.

White lightning hit the family tree

 Today isn't great. I fear I will be a mess at the concert tonight. Steven was so good at singing Chris Young. It always sounded good. If the bar had a jukebox, that was his first stop after getting drinks. He wanted to hear Neon. My insides are dizzy just thinking about it. So many memories attached to lots of his songs. Doesn't help that I know exactly what he would be wearing to this concert if he was here, and he'd give me his hat because it looked beautiful on me. It's a weird day where I want to be sad. I want to skip this afternoon and spend it at home. I'm tired of being distracted from my feelings between the bake sale, work seminars, kick boxing, halloween parade...this is not how I should be managing myself. I want a sloppy, crying, dramatic, ridiculous drunk. Not to cover the sad feelings, but to give me an opportunity to just show them. Get them out of my head. Get them out of my gut. Get them out of my eyes. I want an opportunity for my disaster to appear socially acceptable, and 'round these parts that means whiskey.

what.

No way...

Because I have to

Was gonna write something since I've been feeling really really shitty, but the tears beat me to it. And I still have 6 more clients to go. If Lane was here, he'd know what to do, but he died in Cheyenne doin' exactly what he thought was the best thing for him and Kelly.

I'm up too late

Y'all know it's been a hell of a day when I post twice.

Sons of Anarchy season premier was intense. I remember last years season premier I was still staying at my parents' house, and I watched it with my inlaws. Before I went there I stopped by the cemetery. Sons is just not the same. Not like anything will every be the same, but I do miss that part a lot today. I miss a lot of everything today. I don't even know how to elaborate on that. It's just the most intense, desperate feeling I've ever felt.

I walked in to the reception office this afternoon, and there was a can of wintergreen chew on the counter. None of my coworkers chew, so I asked where it came from. "I dunno, I guess someone forgot it." Really? On one of the worst days I've had in a long time, someone decides to forget their chew which happened to be the same kind Steven used to have. It smelled so good.

Also on my way home this evening, a song came on the radio. It was 'when will I be loved', where lane and tough dance at the wedding. I haven't heard that song in months. And suddenly it's on the radio on one of the worst days I've had in a long time. Don't tell me this is a coincidence. I stopped believing in those about a year ago.

Not even.

I've tried to figure out all morning why I'm still hungry even thought I ate my fiber bar and apple with peanut butter.

I'm not hungry; I'm physically aching from thinking about my life in the last year. It is literally making me sick to think about the tragedy and unfairness and loneliness I've felt. There aren't even words to describe it. I ache physically and emotionally from the fear of my future that I constantly hold. I'm tired because I can't think of anything else but 'what is going to happen to me?' I'm exhausted. I'm dumbfounded (the first time I typed that word, it said 'dumbofounded'...hehe). I'm angry. And the worst of it, I'm lonely. Just the thought makes a lump in my throat and my eyes get teary. I have the best support system that anyone could ask for, but that doesn't fix it. No matter how many times I go out to the bar, go to a movie, go for a run, pray, read, meditate...it's all done with a tone of loneliness. Nothing fixes it, and I'm still fucking lonely.

This, too, was a gift.

I'm not really sure I could feel more empty in this moment. People are dying, getting married, having babies, getting drunk...I thought I had a firm grasp on the end of the rope. I get a little further each time, and then I feel like I fall backward. Instead of using my time to move more forward, I'm using my energy to play catch up. And even when I do get caught up, I can't take many steps forward without falling again. I feel like I'm spending a lot of my time going over stuff I already had licked. It's tedious and completely unnecessary. I have no patience.

When I get in these moods I feel very blank. My face looks uninteresting and pale and boring. My hair looks more faded. I feel gray. Like the life is sucked out of me for a little bit. I feel flat out lonely and undesirable. I hate feeling this way, and I hate medicating myself just as much. It's not even a tearful mood. I feel detached. The hole in me ripped open again, and it feels raw. What do I do?

Apparently I can't fix it, because I've tried that for a year now. I'm not one to take this kind of stuff lying down, so I'm making myself crazy trying to guess how to keep myself afloat. A good word to describe this is suffocating. Every flashback I have takes my breath away, good or bad. It turns in to a tornado where I forget to breathe because it's too painful to think that these things happened to a real person, let alone me.

This happens every time the season changes. It's always a more dramatic swing. The air was cool today. I felt a different energy in the air. I'm grouchy, and it feels like I'm fighting vice grips to keep my eyes open. Better days to come...

Mini

Last night on my way home, I was thinking to myself about how I wish I could talk to Steven about everything that's happening with me. Work is changing, and I'm changing. It killed me that I don't have that giggly "GUESS WHAT?!" to tell him. I was bummed!

Then I changed the radio station, and this happened:

Puzzle #3

Feeling lonely is terribly exhausting. For a year now I've contributed my feelings of loneliness to the obvious: I want Steven back. And I do. I want him back, and I'd there's nothing I wouldn't do to fix all of this. Except that's not an option. It's getting harder and harder for me to tell the difference between wanting Steven and wanting companionship. That's scary. I don't know if I know how to do that. But I'm overwhelmed by both the insane desire to make it happen and do something about it, and extreme fear of failure, disappointment, and judgment. I'm beginning to see that this is the very reason I feel so unstable. Ideally, a solution would randomly be dropped in to my lap and I could feel less awful.

...wranglers are a plus, too.

"You always need attention!"

I'd spent the last several months freaking out about how to handle 'the anniversary.' It has always been referred to as this horrible, emotional, and worst day of your life kind of sad. So, the best advice I had gathered was to make a plan and quit worrying about it. No problem. I planned to go get the tattoo, and then go to Fairmount horse races. I stopped by the cemetery also. I didn't cry all day. I was happy with my plan and who I was spending the day with. I slept in.

I wish somebody would have warned me about the day after. When you get home, unpack your bag, wash dishes, do laundry...what then? I don't have a tattoo to get every day for the rest of my life. I'm going to have boring days. 1 year and 1 day since Steven died feels no different than day 152 or day 43 or day 290. There is no part of me that feels relieved that I made it through the anniversary. No part of me feels like that's an accomplishment.

When this awful, distracting feeling of loneliness doesn't eat away at me every minute of the day...then I will know. Could be just me feeling more comfortable being alone, or it could be having someone there to fill a tiny piece of that to make it not hurt so freakin bad. I don't know which, and I don't know how I will know that I'm making the right decision. Is this something that I will have to build up courage and be brave, or is it something I just wait for in a sense of 'you'll know when you're ready.' Honestly, I think that's bullshit. Is that what happened when Steven died? The universe thought I was ready to be alone? Was I ready to pick out a cemetery plot? Was I ready to start over again? I don't remember having that feeling at all, nor did I get to choose if I was ready or not. I think this is how it works.

#ineedattention

(When I'd tell Steven that I needed attention, I would get a big hug. I remember making it a point to remember the feeling of his heart beating. Sappy? Yep.)

Soooo...

First, I was like.....

But then I was like...

#tattoo #1styeardone #didthatreallyjusthappen #nowwhat

Digging my heels in to yesterday.

You know that feeling?
When you're just waiting.
Waiting to get home, in to your room,
close the door, fall in to bed,
And just let everything out that you kept in all day.
That feeling of both relief and desperation.
Nothing is wrong.
But nothing is right either.
And you're tired.
Tired of everything, tired of nothing.
And you just want someone to
be there and tell you it's ok.
But no one's going to be there.
And you know you have to be strong
for yourself, because no one can fix you.
But you're tired of waiting.
Tired of having to be the one to fix yourself and everyone else.
Tired of being strong
And for once, you just want it to be easy.
To be simple. To be helped. To be saved.
But you know you won't be.
But you're still hoping.
And you're still wishing.
And you're still staying strong and fighting
with tears in your eyes.
You're fighting.

Last night he was wearing a bright orange shirt and khaki shorts. He stood about 10 feet away from me, and he was smiling real big and waving at me.

I got half way through typing this blog and said, "I have no desire to do this right now." So that's all I've got today.

Flashbacks and Bingo

It's no surprise that this month has left much to be desired. A common idea/comment about grief is "I had no idea that when your loved one dies, you will replay the last 24 hours over and over in your head." Try a whole month.

This week, my office has been the exact same temperature as the funeral home was. Don't ask me how I know this, because I can't explain it. I don't know what the temperature is in here, but it feels like death. Sparks a bunch of flashbacks: sitting at the funeral director's desk making decisions through blurry eyes. Standing in the lobby at God knows what time of the night waiting to be escorted in for the viewing. Sitting in the front row at the funeral in a complete daze thinking "somethin's not right. I don't get it." Looking at all of the flowers, statues, cards, etc. sent by family and people I barely knew, and I thought, "what for? These don't make me happy, and I don't care if the whole county is thinking about me and keeping me in their oh-so-blessed thoughts and prayers while gossiping, spreading rumors, and examining my life under a microscope with the same breath."

Another odd phenomenon: When I look out the window of my house, I can't see the road because of the corn. I find myself more intently watching my lane with the smallest ounce of hope that his truck will suddenly turn in and burn down the lane, and Cheyenne will jump on the back of the couch and get really excited when she hears it. Then she'll wait with her nose pressed at the garage door waiting for him to turn the nob so she can jump up and love on him. It's part flashback, and part wishful thinking.

I am really freakin' lonely. I'm good at being a wife. I'm afraid that if I ever decide to date again, I won't know how to treat him like a boyfriend instead of a husband. I'm afraid that I am starting all over again. I'm afraid of my baggage. I'm afraid of screwing up. I'm afraid of being hurt. All of these things had been successfully eliminated when I married Steven. Now, it's all up in the air.

Tattoo: coming August 9th. Its the only thing that I could find to settle my heart, be alone but not isolate, and signify my strength, stability, and independence throughout this shit storm of a year. IDGAF.

#2

Two in one day? I must be emotional.

The best way to describe tonight's experience is this: I have a hole in my heart and soul. This hole will always be there, I will always be able to feel it, but as more time passes, the hole becomes more natural. Like I was born with it. Like a piercing, the hole will stay there but the wound heals over. Tonight's fireworks went straight through the hole and all the way through me. It took my breath away, and I didn't know if it was a good thing or bad thing. The part that confuses me most is that I can't decide if I never ever want to go back again or if I will never miss a single year until I die. Part of me looks at the closure portion of this specific event, and part of me never wants to let go of the tradition. I'm not so sure I can ever watch fireworks and be happy at the same time for the rest of my life. At least, that's how I feel right now.

Every night she walks to beaches of Cheyenne.

I realized this week that I think I named my dog after Garth Brooks song Beaches of Cheyenne. It wasn't on purpose, so I think this is in the category of foreshadowing shit that happened in the last 5 years. Here:

First date was the lake fireworks. I can still feel that nervousness in my stomach when I think about picking out my outfit and waiting for him to pick me up. From there I feel every feeling I ever had in the last 6 years all at one time in just a few seconds. That's the only way I know how to explain it.  I've done a lot of thinking about the fireworks tonight. It's pretty clear why I'm anxious and upset about it, but I kept feeling like it was more than that. This feels different than Thanksgiving or Christmas or birthdays. Not worse or better, but completely different. There's a different nervousness and anticipation. Today, I pegged it.

Our first date was the lake fireworks. Tonight...this is our last date.

The feeling relates to the sense of closing a book or turning a new chapter, except I'm doing it kicking and screaming. It feels like 'the end' all over again. This explains why the predominant flashback has been me standing in front of his casket to see him one last time before the lid was closed.

In many ways, I'd rather live in today for the rest of my life. I don't want to have another 'last'. I'm digging my heels in to today, and I know I'm about to be yanked forward against my will. I don't have any idea how I want to handle the first anniversary. Most of me wants to disappear to a random hotel in a random nearby city, turn off my phone, and just isolate the entire day eating what ever I want and alternate between watching 8 Seconds, Coalminer's Daughter, and Pure Country. And I want to cry the whole way through all day. And I'll take a nap, too.

Now I lay me down to sleep...again.

At the beginning of today I had no desire to talk to anyone. I started my day saying, "just be a robot. You can make it if you just be a robot." Kinda like a year ago. I remember everything that happened, but I don't remember it through my eyes. The only 'me' part I remember was leaving work, going to IGA to get poweraid and chew, and driving to the shop listening to everything play out over the radio.  I hadn't thoroughly panicked until that point (I was on the S curves when that happened). He didn't talk except to say thanks for the poweraid. A lot of things about this last year are so engrained in my brain that I'm certain I'll never forget. I call them flashbacks. One of the big ones is of Steven pacing on the sidewalk in front of his parents' house. That image still eats at me, but I was only nervous for him. I knew it would be handled, because that's what he did.

I remember going to walmart right after work to buy an umbrella, one item that failed to move with us from our parents' houses. It was really raining and misty. I hadn't heard from him, nothing new. I didn't go back to the shop til later that evening. Crystal made spaghetti for supper. Steven was held up in questioning, so we didn't wait to eat. Three hours later (it was pouring at this point) he still hadn't returned. I was sent to find him/them for their supper. This next part is another common flashback...I poked my head in the door of the shop, and it fell completely silent. I froze. Three eyes on me...two seemed to say 'what the hell is she doing here'. The other, 'I can't let her see any of this'. He said, "uh..go back in the house." I didn't like that. I don't like being told what to do, and that was the first time in over 5 years he had ever made me feel uncomfortable. The rest of the night was, "just a bunch of questions. They have to feel important and have something to show for bein here." That was it. Three hours and all it was was a bunch of dumb questions? Uh...ok.

My life was coming completely unglued behind my back, but he made sure I was clueless. He was home damn near every evening, I cooked for my husband like a normal wife. We did things together as a couple in public (Buffett bash, Thursday thunder), and sometimes he was home even before I got home! We grilled out a lot, and he was so damn happy about it. All the rest of July was wonderful. Sort of a stereotypical 'wild and free' young summer. If I asked about the shop, he'd say everything was just fine. It was being taken care of.

And that was only the beginning. I still feel the panic. I can still smell the burning and smoldering. I remember what the rain felt like when I was wondering what they were talking about in the shop. I remember what I was wearing (and haven't worn it since).  I remember washing so much laundry that smelled like horrible smoke. The whole next two months will be a flashback. Its quiet. It's lonely. It's not what was supposed to happen. I feel like I've spent a whole year saying "what the hell is happening?!"

I said my life was coming unglued behind my back. Progressing to today, I feel like everything came unglued, I turned around, they removed my blind fold, and said 'alright...figure it out. And it will get worse. Good luck! Lol." So...I have to figure out what to do with all of this dumped in my lap, wait for it to explode again, and then try to figure out how to lug around this shit storm with me while trying to regain a sense or normal and happy, I'll tell you, I'm a year in to it and all I've figured out is that I have PTSD, lexapro makes me sick, and I don't know how to turn any of this in to even a glimmer of what I want my life to be.

I'm glad I didn't know the way it all would end.

#lonelyasfuck #emptiness #widowproblems #holeinmyheart

Booze In The Blender

At the end of most days, I pound my sadness, anger, loneliness, and depression in to the pavement. Flashbacks ain't got shit.

But today, I'm letting a margarita take care of that instead.

Flash

Speechless. Somehow, country music keeps putting out songs about my life. When I say "about my life" I don't mean that I can vaguely relate to the feelings of sadness. I'm saying that verses and words are specifically what my life has been in the last 10 months (ya...10 months today). "Hang my hat like I'm here for awhile, kick off my boots and drive you wild like a cowboy."

Don't even get me started on "Sweet Annie" by ZBB:

I been burning Bright

For so long I can’t remember

Pretty girls and late night bars seem to be my line of work

Believe me when I say, I can’t stay this high forever

This man’s had all he can stand, time to lay this body down

Sweet Annie

Can I stay with you a while

Cause this roads been putting miles on my heart,

Sweetheart I’ve been livin in a fantasy

But one day Lightning will strike

And my bark will lose it’s bite

Don’t’ give up on me

Sweet Annie.

Sweet Annie

I know I promised you a life

But an empty bed and the words I said don’t carry any weight

If I could take back yesterday, Find a way to start it over

Turn around, put that bottle down and pray it’s not too late

Sweet Annie

Can I stay with you a while

Cause this roads been putting miles on my heart,

Sweetheart I’ve been livin in a fantasy

But one day Lightning will strike

And my bark will lose it’s bite

Don’t’ give up on me

What will be will be

Sweet Annie.

Turn out the lights

These hands they long to hold you

Fall all over you

All over again

Come a little closer so I can show you

My heart still beats fast for you

All over, and over again

Sweet Annie

Can I stay with you a while

Cause this roads been putting miles on my heart,

Sweetheart I’ve been livin in a fantasy

But one day Lightning will strike

And my bark will lose it’s bite

Don’t’ give up on me

Sweet Annie.

Had to be...

I read somewhere that when you wake up with a song stuck in your head, its because an angel was singing it to you while you were sleeping. Wow, that's a good feeling.

Killin' With Kindness

This is how my day started: alarm at 6:35, awake at 7:10, 10 minutes past the time I usually leave for work. Forgot my breakfast. Didn't have time to get gas. Rolled in to work at 7:56. I ate chips for breakfast, because a brownie didn't sound like breakfast food. Went home for lunch at 1 and cried for a little while. Rushed back to work to be on time for my 2pm appointment, and they cancelled. So I'm sitting in my office with a blank stare trying to decide how I should react while simultaneously managing flash backs of the lake sara fire works for the last 5 years (the radio announced they had changed the date, so I was triggered). Here is what happened.

This is my list of the things that currently make me happy. (Certainly a very different list from this time last year).

- My dog, hands down, every time. Especially when she wants to cuddle and hug me when I get home.
- baking
- laughing with my families
- riding my 4wheeler
- cookouts
- going to the movies
- massages....oohhhh yes.
- sleeping in
- organizing and control (like...a list haha)
- crafting and being creative
- being the best/succeeding
- ice cream
- mexican food (this includes margaritas)
- learning
- coloring
- having lots of pillows
- The Big Bang Theory
- making eggs every sunday for me and cheyenne
- growing my roses
- sudoku
- money (stability)

In the last couple days, I've had two cashiers ask me if im a mom with the intent of wishing me a good weekend. Ive also been on facebook to read several moms bitching about their husband and children. Parenthood was on our radar (christmas, actually). I should have been celebrating mother's day today with my husband. To all of the young moms with 6 kids by various sperm donors who refuse to work, rest on government assistance programs, and have no motivation to better yourself or your family, screw you. I hope eventually you see the error in your ways and work hard to make a better life. I did everything right, but YOU got the reward.

Some Bad Day Boosters

I was on pinterest today, of course, and decided to browse through my inspirational/grieving quotes. Here are some of my favorites spanning from 8/2013-present

• Optimist: Someone who figures that taking a step backward after taking a step forward is not a disaster, it's a cha-cha. -Robert Brault
• The only thing I know is this: I am full of wounds and still standing on my feet. -Nikos Kazantzakis
• Isn't it funny how day by day nothing changes but when you look back everything is different... -C.S. Lewis
• Cheer up, sweet beautiful girl. You are going to love again and it will be magnificent -Unknown
• Remember that you were given this life because you're strong enough to live it. -Unknown
• She stood in the storm, and when the wind did not blow her way, she adjusted her sails. -Elizabeth Edwards
• If you must die, sweetheart, die knowing your life was my life's best part. -Unknown
• Do not worry that you life is turning upside down. How do you know that the side you are used to is better than the one to come? -Rumi
• The thing about chaos, is that while it disturbs us, it too, forces our hearts to roar in a way we secretly find magnificent. -Christopher Poindexter
• Storms make trees take deeper roots. -Dolly Parton
• I loved you like there was no tomorrow.. and then one day there wasn't. -Unknown
• And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in." -Unknown
• The Uses of Sorrow (In my sleep I dreamed this poem) Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift. -Unknown
• Sometimes your only available transportation is a leap of faith. -Margaret Shepard
• Don't be scared to walk alone. Don't be scared to like it. -John Mayer
• You don't need another human being to make your life complete, but let's be honest. Having your wounds kissed by someone who doesn't see them as disasters in your soul but cracks to put their love into is the most calming thing in this world. -Emery Allen
• The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen. -Elizabeth Kubler Ros
• Write hard and clear about what hurts. -Ernest Hemingway
• It ain't the whiskey. It ain't the cigareetes, It ain't the stuff I smoke. It's all these things I can't forget. It ain't the hard times. It ain't the all nights. It an't that easy, 'cause it ain't the whiskey that's killin' me. -Gary Allen "It Ain't The Whiskey"
• The truth is that airports saw more sincere kisses than wedding halls. The walls of hospitals have heard more prayers than the walls of the churches. -Unknown
• On particularly rough days when I'm sure I can't possible endure, I like to remind myself that my track record for getting through bad days so far is 100%, and that's pretty good. -Unknown
• When someone is going through a storm, your silent presence is more powerful than a million empty words. -Thema Davis

                  *And my favorite...*

• The devil doesn't come to you with his red face and horns, he comes to you disguised as everything you've ever wanted. -Unknown

"Woe to those who make unjust laws, Woe to those who issue oppressive decrees, to deprive the poor of their rights and withhold justice from the oppressed of my people, making widows their prey and robbing the fatherless. You shall not afflict any widow or fatherless child. If you afflict them in any way and they cry to me, I will surely hear their cry." Isaiah 10:2

"The Lord watches over the sojourners; he upholds the widow and the fatherless, but the way of the wicked he brings to ruin." Psalm 146:9

"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever." Psalm 23

Cleaning!

I'm looking on pinterest for the best way to clean a microfiber couch. I got really excited when I found the perfect solution. I'm so excited that I'm going to go home and do it tonight! Holy moses, I must really miss being a housewife!?

Bargaining

For those who don't understand the psychological process of grief, I want to touch on the concept of bargaining. Its typically described as the act of offering to do/give/say something in return of your loved one. "I'll never fight with him again if only he would come back!" Got it? The lesser known side of bargaining involves the actual grieving. In the beginning, we barter with God or the world for the return of our loved one. Once some of the acceptance has set in and an amount of the shock has worn off, we begin to see that this isn't going to turn out like we wanted it to. We may begin to say things like "Fine, if I can't be married to him, I just want to be married again," or "my life will never feel good again, but please at least take away the crying part." We are bargaining with reality. We bargain with our own grief, because now its real (on a certain level). I'm still convinced there will always be a small shred of my subconscious that believes Steven is in hiding but can never come home (that's the denial). A concern among many of the grieving is that these feelings come suddenly and without any warning. Being aware of these ahead of time can help the mind prepare to accept these changes. The next step, I feel, is to actually feel it. Numbing your numb feelings of grief doesn't make much sense. We can't rid of the feelings, but we can begin to control them and understand them. We have no control over this life, but we can control how we react to it and manage it. We are tested not in joyous times but in times of despair, agony, and severe feelings of hopelessness. People don't care when we are happy. Anyone can be happy.  There's nothing special about our happiness to other people. However, when we get in to this grief stuff, that's when everyone starts paying attention and focusing on how you're grieving, why you're grieving, if you have a right to be grieving, and whether this matches their perception of what grief should look like. Grief is uncomfortable for others, but that doesn't have anything to do with us. They are uncomfortable because grief is such an intimate part of us. Think about it. What are some of the most taboo topics of discussion among good acquaintances (not best friends...)? Money/finances/debts, sexual relationships, and dysfunction (divorce, affairs, etc.). All very intimate details about our personal lives. Why? Because with these acquaintances we have a very cordial and loose relationship. "Hey! You still liking your job? Heard you guys are going on vacation! Ya, I'm still playing golf about every week." These aren't the people who call you on a daily basis to make sure you're ok. These are the people you run in to at Walmart and, in the case of grief, ask with a frown, "How are you doing?" We have two choices: 1. Make them extremely uncomfortable by discussing truly how you are feeling that day and what issues are bothering you (then they respond, 'oh, well I hope things get better for you!' and scoot off with their shopping cart to avoid further confrontation). 2. Simply say "I'm fine." (Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional). Credit: Healing the Grieving Heart support group. Usually, I choose to make people uncomfortable by divulging intimate information about my grief. My hope is that they learn not to ask me if they don't want a lengthy, detailed, and awkward answer. Other times, I use "I'm fine." This is when people ask me how I'm doing but have other motives. They want to talk to me to get information from me or to validate their own insecurities by hearing about how 'bad' mine are. I'm not about to enable that mess, so I say, "I'm fine" with a smile and they are stuck without a way weasel in their question. Shutting them down in this way often results in a blank and obvious look of defeat on their  face. Sometimes even panic because their nosy plan didn't work, and I won. Beat that!

8mos

Today, I'm fine. Fucked up, insecure, neurotic, and emotional. Fine. And I don't want to be anything else right now. The beginning of the month just sucks. The 7th I would have been married 16 months. Today, the 9th, he's been gone 8 months. I say it all the time, but this scares the shit out of me. I keep trying to dig my heels in to the past, and its not working. Everything keeps changing, but I never wanted it to. 90% of my thoughts are based around this part of my life. I'm either thinking about grief, feeling grief, trying to contain my expression of grief, trying to figure out what has happened with my life, and wondering if I'll ever know the truth. Then, I spend time consoling myself and convincing myself that what I have now is all I'm ever gonna get. This is it. How do I go to a support group to talk about the death of my husband when I have little to nothing to share...because I DON'T KNOW. I don't have 1-5 year timeline story of illness, cancer, and hospice. Then, when I do share what I have, I'm perceived as 'closed off' or 'not ready to talk'. This is how I introduce myself:

"Hi, my name is Kerrie Habing, and my husband died on 8/9/13. We were married 8 months."
Usually followed with a collective 'awww' and the 'poor thing' facial expression.
What else do I say after that? I don't have a story that I can share. All I know is that he was there in the morning, and then he wasn't.

This is how everyone else introduces themselves:

"Hi my name is ______. My husband died _____  and fought (insert illness/disease) for __ years. Before he died, we had his funeral all planned out. He wrote his eulogy and we picked the casket and pallbearers together. My whole life was dedicated to taking care of him. Especially toward the end. I did everything for him, and it consumed my life. I was there when he took his last breath. We knew it was coming." etc.....

I'm not minimizing their feelings or suggesting that they don't have a right to grieve deeply. I'm simply saying that I don't relate. I don't have a group of people that can talk about what I've been through and understand the feelings that I have. Its so unique. I can tell people the frustration, anger, and pain of driving around the county for 6 hours trying to find him, but they don't understand it. I can tell people how I'm 24 years old, married at 22, and buried my husband at 23, but its not something that they can understand. Support, yes. Understand, no. I can explain that we never got to have kids and how painful that thought is to me, but they only see my youth and the opportunity of the future. I can't talk about hospice, cancer, heart disease, or alzheimers. I need to process the shock, helplessness, disbelief, sudden split second  that completely rerouted my entire carefully laid out plans for my future. The rest of my life was robbed from me, and I didn't do anything wrong.

"Alleluia! Holy shit! Where's the tylenol?"

Its Just Cotton

I'm a little freaked out, because my dreams are getting increasingly vivid. Possibly better spiritual connection and freedom on the other side. Less confusion, and more focus on healing. Not only can I vividly see and remember my dreams (which isn't all that odd for me), I can touch and smell and feel emotion in these dreams. When I wake up, I remember all of those details. It makes me very scared when I think that eventually I could forget about how the most treasured and important things in my life felt. I guess that fixes that problem!

#sleepdeprived

It makes my blood boil when I hear or see someone say "yes, we've had our ups and downs" when referring to their relationship. Do they think it makes them sound special? Or strong for overcoming the 'ups and downs'? Seriously? What the hell do you think a relationship/marriage is? I may not have decades of experience, but I have enough to know that that is what a relationship consists of. Marriage is the only scenario when hating someone is fun, expected, and accepted by society. Having no ups and downs is abnormal. Stating the 'ups and downs' phrase is just about as logical as stating "we both have two feet in our relationship." I'm also irritated because I think people make these kinds of irritating, nonsensical statements just to hear themselves talk. Since they weren't getting enough attention, they decided to post it all over facebook so people would say "awwww you're so cute!" "awww you guys make such a good couple" "I hope I have a relationship like yours someday!" "He's so good to you!" For me, being married was so awesome because it was the best feeling in the world, and I didn't have to share it or worry about anyone else messing it up (well...until the end). I didn't have to share it! If you need that kind of validation, you might want to reevaluate where you really are in life.

Another pet peeve: "Due to the fact of we didn't have any milk." "Due to the fact of she didn't know how to tie her shoe." That doesn't make sense, and you aren't using it right. I'm not a grammar nazi. I end sentences with prepositions, I never know the proper conjugation of "lay", sometimes I write in fragments, and I speak in redneck slang in scenarios where I should be using proper grammar. But if you sound like a moron and still think you are on the same level as me, I get a little irritated.

Young and Scared and Happy

Today just isn't going to be my happy motivated day. I'm starting to have shitty sleep again, and I really thought I had that problem licked. I hate taking steps backward. Its weird, though, because when I wake up I'm looking around the room like I'm looking at/for something. I'm always looking next to my bed and at the foot of my bed. Every single time. I don't have the feeling that I'm looking for Steven or forgetting for a split second that he's gone. I'm past that. It almost seems like I'm waking up for a reason. 90% of the time, its between 2am and 3am. I don't think this is so much my inability to sleep, because I have meds for that. Just another thing that doesn't make sense to me. What else is new? Why do I have to be so determined? I could have easily called in to work and be home in bed right now. I could easily be crying under my covers and isolating myself if I weren't so damn persistent. A good thing, really. But doing that means I'm giving in to the powerful grips of grief, and I won't do it. I'm scared, and I'm unsure, but it just seems like 'the next right thing'.

I've also been more afraid lately. Not in the sense that there's a monster under my bed or because I hear a creek in the night. Its an overall 'holy shit I'm doing this by myself'. Like walking a tight rope and I looked down. Part of that is from quitting smoking. I feel like I have no crutch. I haven't replaced that comfort with anything else since I quit. That's a good thing, but its a piece that's gone. I don't regret quitting, and I feel exponentially better. But I don't have that brief 4 minute period throughout the day that previously provided somewhat of relief from the stress. Ugh.

I dreamed of Steven last night. They aren't really dreams anymore. More like communications. It hasn't happened in awhile, because I think both of us were so confused and conflicted that communication wasn't flowing well. Now its better. I dreamed he was laying in bed and he had the anchor tattoo that I've pictured in my head for a few months now. He got it right over his heart, and he kept telling me to keep my hand on it. Guess his extremely dramatic fear of needles didn't cross over with him?? Cool.

And, I forgot my jug of water at home.

Who's wearing the mask?

Really, I don't care about a plane that has mysteriously disappeared from existence two weeks ago. Do you really buy that? Technology exists that can read your license plate from a satellite. And they can't find a Boeing 777. My question is this. What's going on behind it? Why is our focus diverted to this missing plane and wailing loved ones of missing passengers? Its playing on our emotions, our ego, and our natural curiosity. Its happening because they know it works.

1. Emotions: We want to help! There are people on that plane who have children, wives, and mothers to come home to. We feel terrible for these people on the other side of the world because they don't know what happened to their loved ones. Hmmm. That sounds kind of familiar. I'm not saying I don't feel bad for the innocent people on board. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

2. Ego: Each country is saying "I want to be the one to find the plane so my country is the one who comes out on top as the knight in shining armor." "Finding the plane will boost my numbers among the other nations." Would come in handy for Obama and Russia right now, right? Who is going to be the big dog?

3. Curiosity: When we are told something is important by someone of authority, we believe it to be so. Our brain rationalizes 'they know way more than I do about this stuff. Something really must be wrong if several countries are freaking out about it!' That's how Obama got elected...please tell me you're aware of that.

Make sense? I'm not saying the plane didn't really disappear or that a large number of passengers are unaccounted for. I'm not saying that at all. My point is that this is happening for a reason beyond an extremist pilot executing a suicide mission. Sure, its happened. But when tension with the government began to get pretty thick, suddenly this fiasco randomly occurs that draws our attention elsewhere. Hmm. Its hard to figure out who's wearing the mask when we haven't even seen their true identity to begin with.

Lyrical Surprise

Eric Church, "A Man Who Was Gonna Die Young"

I like fast cars, and shop grease
chased a lot of crazy things
left behind my share of broken pieces
this morning I turned 36, and you just remember half of it
you wonder how you out-lived Hank and Jesus 


I put the rage in a river, the roll in a thunder
but you kept me from goin' under,
when that current got too heavy
I always thought I'd be a heap of metal
in a cloud of smoke, foot stuck to the pedal
Sold for parts like a junkyard rusted-out Chevy
Fear, I've had none
what the hell made you want to love
a man, who was gonna die young


In the mirror, I saw my surprise
when those gray hairs like to hide, on my head
didn't think he'd live past thirty
If I make it thirty more, it's the brown that you'll be looking for
as you run your fingers through, say "slow down, honey" 


I put the rage in a river, the roll in a thunder
but you kept me from goin' under,
when that current got too heavy
I always thought I'd be a heap of metal
in a cloud of smoke, foot stuck to the pedal
Sold for parts like a junkyard rusted-out Chevy
Fear, I've had none
what the hell made you want to love
a man, who was gonna die young


Call it intuition, or call it crazy
just thought by now I'd be pushing up daisies
but I'd gladly stick around if we're together
So baby when you bow your head tonight
could you tell the Lord I've changed my mind?
And with you I'd like to live, well...

This song made my jaw drop. I stared at my computer for a good ten minutes reading this over and over thinking, "No way...there's no way." Then again, this is also the same artist that sings "Lightning", "Like Jesus Does", and "Love Your Love The Most". Guess that was my sign for today. Holy shit. 

I'm FREEEE!!!!

Today, I woke up a little bit before my alarm. I thought about the medication that I'm on and its tendency to reduce nicotine cravings (it increases the uptake of norepinephrine in the brain making the rewards of previously dull stimuli exacerbated). I went with it. I really want my house paid off, and I'm getting another tattoo. And really, I've been through much worse feelings than a nicotine craving/withdrawal. Piece of cake, right? I've had three drags today, and I'm on my 4th bag of chips. I valued my decision to not smoke over the moral obligation to abstain between meals. Sorry, Mom. To be continued.

Spring Forward!

More change, and of course I don't like it. Its not scary this time, but its eery. Late summer nights remind me of bare feet in the gun shop, late nights working on the house, the lake, first date, sitting on the porch at home eating tacos, homewood grill (chocolate peanut butter milkshake), the fair, grilling out odd and new combinations of ingredients, fireworks, Stan's shrimp boil, Jesus shoes, and Oakleys. Winter was cold, dreary, and depressing. Its like I justified my depression with the shitty weather. Without that weather, I feel almost like I have no excuse for being depressed. Justifying any of my feelings shouldn't be a concern, but it is. I think I feel more pressured because of false expectations. The paranoia (again, associated with depression) that the WHOLE WORLD is expecting me to feel better since the weather is getting better. I will no longer have the winter to emotionally hide behind. My thinking is so flawed, but I can't change the fact that its real. The added pressure to feel better combined with these sick reminders of the amazing life I had this time last year is a lot to handle, and I can't do much about it. The weather will change, and I have no control over that. To put an image to my feelings, imagine a room full of all of the thoughts you ever thought, all of the people you've ever met, and all of the fears you've ever had. Now imagine someone dragging you kicking and screaming to this room. You have no control. You can't run away. You can't move. And you did nothing to deserve this. Then, you get thrown in to the room completely naked and you have to sort through and conquer all of it. That's kind of what change feels like. Add windows to the room so you can see everybody watching you anticipating your next move so they can either rush to your aid or analyze your reasoning and intentions. Its kind of a lot to handle.

Anchor

I'm sleeping! I've never been so happy about sleep in my life. No waking up at 2:30am (dead hour, by the way) and stewing about 'what if' or 'why'. Its a little ironic, because my house reeks of polyurethane. Maybe I was high?? I also think it has something to do with saging my house. Since the construction has started in my basement, there's been an uneasy, confused, anxious vibe about my house (look it up...changes of such stir spirit activity). That certainly wasn't helping my sleep at all. I think the saging took care of that, though. I think the creepiest thing that happened was when my dog sat in front of me and stared as if she was focusing on something behind me. She had been following something around my living room in a circle for about 10 minutes. I was so stunned and in awe that I didn't think to take a video of it. I tried to play it cool and be brave, but I was shaking and nervous but exciting at the same time. My dog sees dead people.

I'm way past due for another tattoo. Just a heads up, Mom.

The clock on the wall has been stuck at three for days and days.

It irritates the CRAP out of me when people say "I'M MARRYING MY BEST FRIEND!!" or other forms of such.

Really? That's all he is to you?

Dream

Last night I dreamed that I was with Rob Thomas, the lead singer of Matchbox 20. We were chillin' like it was no big deal. I asked him to play this song, and he said, "I think that's a great idea. I think it will help you."

P.S. The meds are working, but I'm not sleeping for shit. I gotta figure this out.

Its been 6 months. It was never supposed to be that long. It feels both slow and fast. Slow: i thought i would feel a lot better by now. I guess the bigger the love, the harder it is to heal. Iv been in this hell more than long enough. Fast: i feel like iv been standing still. Still partly in shock watchin the world happen. Then suddenly im smacked in the face with 6 months of time i feelike iv missed. A lot of people tell me they dont understand how im doing this or they cant believe how good im handling it. Wanna know a secret? I cant believe it either honestly. But iv been doing it for 6 months standing on my own feet. No wonder im exhausted.

5 o'clock

If I'm going to feel like I'm drowning (which is a pretty accurate depiction of my feelings this week) I'd really rather margaritas be involved. My mother in law agrees, and my father in law is in Cancun. Its fate, right? I'm practically obligated to enjoy myself this evening!

I write this as if people are reading it. I know that isn't true but a mere handful of my family. Funny, but in the beginning I had thousands of views within 12 hrs of posting this. Now I'm down to maybe 5 a day? Its not about the attention. This does prove, though, that the world expects 'quick quick quick, get over it because its uncomfortable'. I feel like I've reached a point where I'm still uncomfortable, and that is making others uncomfortable because they aren't uncomfortable anymore. I'm not talking about my immediate family, but others at work, in the community, in the store, etc. Its an interesting transition to go from the center of everyone's attention and the latest gossip to people trying to avoid me and sweep me under a rug because I'm uncomfortable to be around. As if I wasn't lonely enough losing my husband, it feels that the rest of the non-grieving world is against me. Bummer, dude.

Sleepy Jitters

There are two reasons why I'm not on my office floor wallowing in an odd combination of sleeping and crying:

1. I'm already having a bad hair day.
2. I don't know the last time my office floor was vacuumed.

Sometimes you don't need a good reason. Just a reason good enough for you.

(I think I'm prolonging the collapse because I'm so excited for how amazing my couch is going to feel as soon as I can get my butt home after work.)

Rome was built on ruins.

That's all I got...I don't have words for it, and I'm out of advice. I just know I'm still standing, and today, that's all that matters. I don't feel like I'm moving forward, but I don't feel like I'm moving backward. I think I just have to get comfortable standing before any movement can happen.

Rant mode.

Everything all at once. I've felt lonely and basically shitty all damn week. On top of that, I'm dealing with a hellacious amount of stress at work with the general overtone of "we business men don't know a thing about therapy, but here are the rules we've developed for you to strictly enforce upon your patients." THEN, my rate of billable services this week has been in the toilet. Clients not showing up or calling me 10 minutes in to their scheduled afternoon appointment time saying, "uhhhhh dude I just woke up." Or how about the calls from frantic significant others saying, "HE'S GONE OFF HIS ROCKER AND IS DRINKING BOTTLES AT A TIME!!" Those have been fun too. On top of that, I have my group this afternoon and have nothing prepared for the 5-8 blank faces staring at me waiting for me to lecture for 2 hours. On top of that, I just feel pulled in every direction in general. I feel like I'm not accomplishing anything, and I feel like its my fault. I'm not sure if it really is or not. Then, no one can fix any of this but me. This isn't something I can delegate to reduce stress. To be brutally honest, I feel about as stable as I did at the funeral. In fact, I was more stable at that point because I had the ability to delegate, and I had control over most things that were happening. Right now, I have none. No control. That makes me a basket case. I've even taken a Xanax this afternoon, and I'm still ranting. I have this illogical assumption that the world expects me to be better by now. It derives from my own frustration that I'm not yet healed, and I'm very aware of that. I'm sick of things just not getting noticeably better in quite some time. I find myself yet again doing all of the right things and making right choices, but I see no improvement in my life despite my efforts to make myself happy and make myself feel good. This is all so routine now, and I don't want it to be that way. I WANT TO BE BETTER...NOW. Not later. Not 'when the time is right'. Not 'when God feels you're ready'. Not 'when you've learned the lessons you're supposed to learn'. I firmly believe that God does not give us more than we can handle, but this didn't come from God. This horrible tragedy is not an act of God. God does not 'bless us' with tragedy that pushes us near the breaking point. He does not present us with struggles so deep and hurtful that every day feels like a dead end. That is not the work of God as I know him. This is a result of human error. None of this is right, and none of this makes any sense. I'm tired of waiting.

I want an angel with arms, not with wings.

A little hank jr to cap off the evening.

Seriously?

I feel boring. I feel like nothing is happening...good or bad. That makes me frustrated, because I feel entitled to a good 'happening'. I'm certainly long overdue. I want to have a reason to say "Things are really looking up!", but I don't. I guess I should be thankful that things aren't going to hell in a hand basket, but how long do I have to wait? I don't want to feel sad, I don't want to feel lonely, I don't want to feel lost, I don't want to feel empty, and I'm certainly tired of feeling 'blah'. 'Blah' is nonproductive, and its getting me no where in a hurry. All of those tips and tricks to boost my mood are getting old and rather routine to be honest. I find myself reflecting on the notion of 'rebuilding out of the ashes'. Now that all of the ashes have settled, I find my same self standing in the middle of them unchanged. By that, I mean that nothing spectacular has been rebuilt. Its just me. Going home to my dog every night. Doing my laundry. Keeping my house. Going to work. Its just me...I don't understand. 5 months ago, this is exactly where I expected myself to be. That's frustrating to me. 5 months ago, inside the depression, shock, and grief, I had these minimal expectations to simply return to a halfway normal life. That's all that's happened. It makes me sick. Throw me a bone, life.