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.