And the hits just keep coming. Today I am fighting depression again. Although my body and mind are healing, the process is slow going. It doesn't help to realize just how slow until I realize the world blowing by. THAT stupid cancer took 5 years from me and continues to take moments of life from me by questioning how strong I am now. I want to make a difference, I want to show others I can DO THIS. But I can't.
I thought about helping out with Liz's Girl Scout troop and have started down that path, and now struggling to keep up. I often wonder if I am pushing her into something that isn't her. I want to relive my scouting days with Olivia. When I was her troop leader, I also lead a woman's Bible Study, was working full time and taking care of my mom.
From that time in my life I became a cancer fighter. All I could do was be in bed, and somehow I was okay with it. (I'll have to read back on this blog) I know I lived through it. I know that was my one and only job. To LIVE.
And now living and fighting a different sort of fight. The fight of bordom, the fight of insecurities, fight, fight, fight. Or maybe not. Maybe it's not my job to fight anything. Maybe it's my job to be a mom, just a mom. Not a perfect mom, with the perfect house. See I was thinking, I'm so insecure about who I am, I over compensate by signing up for activities and duties and doing a little of each, instead of putting all my focus and energy into one. The ONE THING.
41“Martha, Martha, the Lord replied, “you are worried and upset about many things.42But only one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, and it will not be taken away from her.”…
Luke 10:41
So today, December 7, 2016 I will do the ONE necessary thing! I will bless my kids and my husband and let God take care of the rest.
Love you, love me, love you, love me!
Clues that I'm trying to do too much
~My van is in the shop (I keep volunteering to drive kids and yet I don't have the room!)
~Shin Spllints---OUCH!
~I constantly think of people to pray for (stop doing, start praying)
~My mind races and I can keep up!
~Not sleeping well ( I need to slow this brain down!)
~People have been giving me hints and "outs" but I don't take them, instead I take offense to them
~I find other "things" to keep me busy from doing what I'm suppose to (this blog... and with that I sign off!)
Wednesday, December 7, 2016
Friday, November 11, 2016
11.11.16 The Victim
The words, I hear over and over. That I play the victim. Without forgiveness, I will continue to hear the words and other hurtful, angry words. They burn in my soul and my voice is snuffed out. I have fought these words over and over in my mind. There was a time when they controlled my actions. There was a time when I gave in and believed them. I guess as a survivor and a fighter the word "victim" makes my skin crawl. I try and rise above, I try and the harder I try, the harder I fall. And when I fall, I'm not allow to say I hurt or it hurts. I'm not allow to feel the pain aloud, because then I make myself the victim. So what do I do? Embrace being a victim? Or continue to fight? Do I apologize? All I can think to do is forgive. Forgive those people for not seeing who I really am. That I can be too strong for myself. That I over think things. I'm working on it though. I'm working on me. On seeing me for who I really am. For seeing my strengths and seeing my weaknesses as really challenges that can be assets.
I do know that words hurt and can for a very long time, or I can let them go and focus on the words of love, understanding and patience.
Love you, love me, love you, love me.
I do know that words hurt and can for a very long time, or I can let them go and focus on the words of love, understanding and patience.
Love you, love me, love you, love me.
Monday, October 31, 2016
10.30.16 Twas Grace that Caused my Heart to fear
The first night coming home, I slept. I had somehow developed a rash, hives of sorts and the itching was and at times still is unnerving. I started taking anti-anxiety and benedryl. This combination makes the eyelids extremely heavy. Morning came and I attempted to walk out to the chicken coop and check on my gals. This didn't seem to ease any anxiety or bring any joy. I felt out of breath and when gasping could feel the drainage tubes in my chest. To add to this, I couldn't seem to hold any food down. I constantly felt nauseous and dizzy. This began my spiral downward. Thoughts stacked one on top of the other. "You won't be the same." "You've lost your beauty". "Nothing will be the same". "Nothing can make you happy anymore". and over and over. All I wanted to do was crawl back into bed. Silence the negative voices and let my body feel relaxed. I let sleep take over for most of the day and night.
Sunday came. I heard Bill and Elizabeth getting ready for church. I wanted to get up, I wanted a reason to get up and go, but I could find none. I was begining to not care. The anger was building. Why did this happen? Again? Why me? When? When would this end? When could I be done? When would I care. Did God still care? Did He still love me? Why did he allow this to happen? Why didn't He prevent it? I pulled the covers off the bed and found my way to the couch. Maybe if I got away from my bed I could pull myself out of this. I spent the morning watching TV. When Bill and Elizabeth got home, I only found myself angrier. I wanted to be left alone. I didn't want to feel. I think you can see where all this is going.
Monday morning I arose to my dad's voice in the living room. I could hear my Uncle Josh telling him, "Come-on, just go with me." I smiled. They reminded me of teenagers. I got up shortly thereafter, to find the house empty. "Good. This is good, I can do this," I told myself. I fell into my routines of coffee, picking a few things up and general stay-at-home-mom stuff. I was glad to have my kids back at school. They had each missed a few days for the last couple of weeks. When I feel especially ill (physically) I like to have one of them (or both) home to help me. I know, not the best thing for a mom to do, but the best of the situation.
Somewhere in those early days I heard a song, "It's not over yet". The words stuck with me to "everyone who's hit their limit... it's not over yet". I didn't want it to be over. I don't want to spend the rest of my life like this. So yesterday, I made the proclaimation. It's NOT OVER. I WILL MAKE IT THROUGH THIS!!!
Love you, love me, love you, love me!
Sunday came. I heard Bill and Elizabeth getting ready for church. I wanted to get up, I wanted a reason to get up and go, but I could find none. I was begining to not care. The anger was building. Why did this happen? Again? Why me? When? When would this end? When could I be done? When would I care. Did God still care? Did He still love me? Why did he allow this to happen? Why didn't He prevent it? I pulled the covers off the bed and found my way to the couch. Maybe if I got away from my bed I could pull myself out of this. I spent the morning watching TV. When Bill and Elizabeth got home, I only found myself angrier. I wanted to be left alone. I didn't want to feel. I think you can see where all this is going.
Monday morning I arose to my dad's voice in the living room. I could hear my Uncle Josh telling him, "Come-on, just go with me." I smiled. They reminded me of teenagers. I got up shortly thereafter, to find the house empty. "Good. This is good, I can do this," I told myself. I fell into my routines of coffee, picking a few things up and general stay-at-home-mom stuff. I was glad to have my kids back at school. They had each missed a few days for the last couple of weeks. When I feel especially ill (physically) I like to have one of them (or both) home to help me. I know, not the best thing for a mom to do, but the best of the situation.
Somewhere in those early days I heard a song, "It's not over yet". The words stuck with me to "everyone who's hit their limit... it's not over yet". I didn't want it to be over. I don't want to spend the rest of my life like this. So yesterday, I made the proclaimation. It's NOT OVER. I WILL MAKE IT THROUGH THIS!!!
Love you, love me, love you, love me!
Sunday, October 30, 2016
10.30.16 Amazing Grace
A song normally heard during a funeral I suppose. But for me, it's a song of rebirth. A rising from the ashes type of song (and I just heard it on the TV). Per my usual, it's very late and my mind refuses to shut down until I type the words running through my mind. I desperately don't want this to be a debbie downer post, but to get to the joy part, the overcoming part, the comfortable part, you have to go through the trials. And if you're reading this, you're going to go through this with me.
It started several weeks ago, another fever, more aches. I could feel this coming on. Another infection. At first I was determined to get this and get it over quick. Then I noticed something. I noticed little good-byes. I noticed I would admire myself in the mirror and say good-bye to these breasts, to this body. I looked lovingly at myself, her smile, her confidence, her outward beauty, and I felt a little sad, like I knew something was coming. I have blogged from the beginning, I knew I was in for a fight. Five years ago, I could feel a calling on my life to a challenge, a challenge to love, to give my all. I'm not saying I'm something special or that I'm proud of this. It's just something, like my story. We all have a story, and I had an idea I was in for another page in this story. Back to the infection, I knew something, somehow. I told Bill how I was feeling and it was decided that Thursday the 27th I would go in and see the doctor. I remember saying "If this is it, if it's another infection, I am done. I can't keep doing this. I want my new normal. I'm tired of not lifting things, not being able to reach, of scared of hurting myself every time I hug or drive or walk on the treadmill."
The wheels turned quickly as they sometimes do, once set in motion. I was sent to the E.R. and it was decided I would go in for surgery later that night. I woke from surgery crying, feeling like something was over, or someone had died. Someone had left me. Bill was there, I chatted on the phone with my dad. I had Bill text one of my closest friends. I told him to call the kids. Check, check, check, check. All there, all there. Then why did I feel as though someone DIED? Bill stayed with me until I had something to eat and reassured me, everything was okay, Kids, Friends, Sisters, Dad, Brother, beloved furry Tree Bear and even chickens all an hour's drive away. I fell asleep.
The next morning I woke, groggy and still feeling an internal pain. It would be 2:00P.M. before I could be released. Bill called and said he would be coming to get me. I slept off and on most of the day. I had forgotten my phone at home the previous day, so I had no way to communicate with anyone and was just so exhausted from surgery. Bill arrived and we had found it would be another couple of hours before I could go home. I still didn't have my phone, and was getting updated from Bill and giving him updates to post for me.
The drive home was long yet it seems as if time were slipping by. I put my hand to my chest and cried. We got home and I headed straight for bed. I just couldn't seem to think, like I was in a fog, trying to clear the air, trying to make sense of what just happened. I hugged my kids and pulled the covers up.... I once was lost...
Tomorrow, the longest week to date.
It started several weeks ago, another fever, more aches. I could feel this coming on. Another infection. At first I was determined to get this and get it over quick. Then I noticed something. I noticed little good-byes. I noticed I would admire myself in the mirror and say good-bye to these breasts, to this body. I looked lovingly at myself, her smile, her confidence, her outward beauty, and I felt a little sad, like I knew something was coming. I have blogged from the beginning, I knew I was in for a fight. Five years ago, I could feel a calling on my life to a challenge, a challenge to love, to give my all. I'm not saying I'm something special or that I'm proud of this. It's just something, like my story. We all have a story, and I had an idea I was in for another page in this story. Back to the infection, I knew something, somehow. I told Bill how I was feeling and it was decided that Thursday the 27th I would go in and see the doctor. I remember saying "If this is it, if it's another infection, I am done. I can't keep doing this. I want my new normal. I'm tired of not lifting things, not being able to reach, of scared of hurting myself every time I hug or drive or walk on the treadmill."
The wheels turned quickly as they sometimes do, once set in motion. I was sent to the E.R. and it was decided I would go in for surgery later that night. I woke from surgery crying, feeling like something was over, or someone had died. Someone had left me. Bill was there, I chatted on the phone with my dad. I had Bill text one of my closest friends. I told him to call the kids. Check, check, check, check. All there, all there. Then why did I feel as though someone DIED? Bill stayed with me until I had something to eat and reassured me, everything was okay, Kids, Friends, Sisters, Dad, Brother, beloved furry Tree Bear and even chickens all an hour's drive away. I fell asleep.
The next morning I woke, groggy and still feeling an internal pain. It would be 2:00P.M. before I could be released. Bill called and said he would be coming to get me. I slept off and on most of the day. I had forgotten my phone at home the previous day, so I had no way to communicate with anyone and was just so exhausted from surgery. Bill arrived and we had found it would be another couple of hours before I could go home. I still didn't have my phone, and was getting updated from Bill and giving him updates to post for me.
The drive home was long yet it seems as if time were slipping by. I put my hand to my chest and cried. We got home and I headed straight for bed. I just couldn't seem to think, like I was in a fog, trying to clear the air, trying to make sense of what just happened. I hugged my kids and pulled the covers up.... I once was lost...
Tomorrow, the longest week to date.
Thursday, October 27, 2016
10.26.16 A year ago...
I waited approximately 4 years. I waited until the dust settled and I thought I could see a bit more into the future. I thought I could see beautiful gowns and clothing that would show my strength. For all that breast cancer had taken, I would show it who came out on top. Who became the swan. A year ago I dreamed of long strong arms and a torso that would match my hips. I dreamed of a chest full and yet not so full as to walk around with a back ache. It wouldn't be a body to show off, just a body to be comfortable in. I struggled with body image in my teen-age years, but as a young adult and then a young mother, I was proud to be who I was in the body I was given. About a year before I was diagnosed I noticed weight coming on. I had a wedding to be a part of and working towards a dress I knew I would love and would show that I truly did love this body. And then the diagnosis. CHOP them OFF. SAVE MY LIFE! I'D RATHER BE ALIVE!
And so the process began. I had been on Herceptin for over a year and felt my body had healed significantly from the chemotherapy, radiation, and 9 surgergies behind it. A year ago I looked forward to pretty bras and shopping with my teenager. A year ago, I looked forward to surprising my husband with a shirt that fit. A year ago I looked forward to wearing a skirt to church, to just being able to get dressed each morning without grabbing ahold of sweatpants or an oversized sweatshirt.. In some weird way, I think those implants were killing me too. Infections, not healing, pain, unable to lift or reach or hug. So they were removed. My body is racked with emotional pain. Hurt. I am hurt. I see a huge concave area in my chest where a woman's breasts are suppose to be.. Then below a belly full of anger and bitterness, eating anything it can see. I don't want to get up. I have two drains hanging from tubes inside my chest. Draining out what beauty and life was once there. I am uncomfortable to move, to sleep, to walk, sit, or stand. I can feel the tubes moving in my chests, begging to be pulled free from this ugly body and dis-morphed skin. It's late and I am tired. The one thing I hold to. The one thing, is this, tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow the drains will be pulled and then I can go for a walk and clear my head. If this day were to last any longer, I am afraid I would grab the clippers and shave what beauty I see left of me.I don't even want to know what it will be like a year from now.
And so the process began. I had been on Herceptin for over a year and felt my body had healed significantly from the chemotherapy, radiation, and 9 surgergies behind it. A year ago I looked forward to pretty bras and shopping with my teenager. A year ago, I looked forward to surprising my husband with a shirt that fit. A year ago I looked forward to wearing a skirt to church, to just being able to get dressed each morning without grabbing ahold of sweatpants or an oversized sweatshirt.. In some weird way, I think those implants were killing me too. Infections, not healing, pain, unable to lift or reach or hug. So they were removed. My body is racked with emotional pain. Hurt. I am hurt. I see a huge concave area in my chest where a woman's breasts are suppose to be.. Then below a belly full of anger and bitterness, eating anything it can see. I don't want to get up. I have two drains hanging from tubes inside my chest. Draining out what beauty and life was once there. I am uncomfortable to move, to sleep, to walk, sit, or stand. I can feel the tubes moving in my chests, begging to be pulled free from this ugly body and dis-morphed skin. It's late and I am tired. The one thing I hold to. The one thing, is this, tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow the drains will be pulled and then I can go for a walk and clear my head. If this day were to last any longer, I am afraid I would grab the clippers and shave what beauty I see left of me.I don't even want to know what it will be like a year from now.
Saturday, September 17, 2016
9.17.16 No title
Usually at various times during the day I have a topic I want to write about in here, but there are more I am thinking that I don't know what to write, I just find myself here. It's been 4 years. 4 years ago I was awaiting my results for various tests. CT, blood work, maybe surgery that would ultimately tell me I had breast cancer, again. My 2nd diagnosis was a totally different type of breast cancer and they had found cancer in my ovaries. Nothing was normal or routine.
But I have learned, WHAT is normal? I have had other struggles unrelated to cancer, were they normal? Is this normal, up, past 11 on a Friday night after laundry, checking e-mails, grades, picture day, sewing a costume. Sometimes I like normal. No "super excitement". My littlest one has picked up the term "Just chill". I'm just chill. It's just chill. So life today is Just chill. AND TRUST ME THAT'S A GOOD THING. When I think about those moments that were all over the place, I don't wanna go back. :)
I have also found that moments pass. And we find almost 18 years later we love our husband more than we did the day we said "I do". We see that 17 years later, a colicky baby is grown into a young man. That all the stress of finding childcare for our babies or the laughter as we picked them up from school is only a moment. We learn that those moments of tears, anguish and pain are just moments and we can let them pass or we can hold onto them and let them become distant memories. But this will pass and we can say WE LIVED IT. WE MADE IT THROUGH. I wanna be that person that has a normal and an abnormal sorta life, because THOSE make the moments.
Tonight, no title. Just chill.
Love you, love me, love you, love me.
But I have learned, WHAT is normal? I have had other struggles unrelated to cancer, were they normal? Is this normal, up, past 11 on a Friday night after laundry, checking e-mails, grades, picture day, sewing a costume. Sometimes I like normal. No "super excitement". My littlest one has picked up the term "Just chill". I'm just chill. It's just chill. So life today is Just chill. AND TRUST ME THAT'S A GOOD THING. When I think about those moments that were all over the place, I don't wanna go back. :)
I have also found that moments pass. And we find almost 18 years later we love our husband more than we did the day we said "I do". We see that 17 years later, a colicky baby is grown into a young man. That all the stress of finding childcare for our babies or the laughter as we picked them up from school is only a moment. We learn that those moments of tears, anguish and pain are just moments and we can let them pass or we can hold onto them and let them become distant memories. But this will pass and we can say WE LIVED IT. WE MADE IT THROUGH. I wanna be that person that has a normal and an abnormal sorta life, because THOSE make the moments.
Tonight, no title. Just chill.
Love you, love me, love you, love me.
Thursday, August 18, 2016
8.18.2016 She writes, she writes
Some 90's song... She bang, she bang. Well, for me and for tonight, I write. I write. My life just doesn't seem interesting enough to document.
Since my surgery about 3 weeks ago, I have been sitting in the armchair watching a show. It occured to me today, that I could be reading, studying, something ELSE.
I awoke to my daughter's radio, loudly playing Christian music and a few times I had thought I had heard her playing. But no, school has started 4 days ago and the quiet interrupted only by the sound of the washing machine or the dish washer. Or this crazy TV. I am ready to have my kids home with me all day. Sure I'm okay with sending them off to school the first couple of days, but then I wish them to be home with me. I think a big part of this has to do with the fact that I was a working mom for so many years and yearned to be at home with them. It is the hardest, most self-sacrificing, most rewarding job I have ever held. I get yelled at, then hugged. I get told no, I clean up gross stuff, then I get puppy eyes and good-night kisses.
I was due for a round of Herceptin 3 weeks ago, but I won't go in until next week for treatment. This has been good for my joints, taking a break from the aches. I have pondered not continuing for several months, but this won't go over with my doctor. :( and I'm okay with that.
My real reason for being on here and so late, I was watching my eldest daughter draw tonight, she is an artist! And I read through some of my son's writings, HE IS AN AUTHOR! My youngest has removed her Barbie House and in it's place is a "desk" complete with phone, papers, pencils and "Work Stuff". I smile. Each of them has a little bit of me. That's why I'll continue on the Herceptin, that's why I'll fight every tummy ache, every achy joint, every tired morning and restless night. To be with them, to watch them grow, to send them to school. To cry with them and for them. And when it's all said and done. They will have this blog to look back at and say, "She wrote. She WROTE."
Love you, love me, love you, love me.
Since my surgery about 3 weeks ago, I have been sitting in the armchair watching a show. It occured to me today, that I could be reading, studying, something ELSE.
I awoke to my daughter's radio, loudly playing Christian music and a few times I had thought I had heard her playing. But no, school has started 4 days ago and the quiet interrupted only by the sound of the washing machine or the dish washer. Or this crazy TV. I am ready to have my kids home with me all day. Sure I'm okay with sending them off to school the first couple of days, but then I wish them to be home with me. I think a big part of this has to do with the fact that I was a working mom for so many years and yearned to be at home with them. It is the hardest, most self-sacrificing, most rewarding job I have ever held. I get yelled at, then hugged. I get told no, I clean up gross stuff, then I get puppy eyes and good-night kisses.
I was due for a round of Herceptin 3 weeks ago, but I won't go in until next week for treatment. This has been good for my joints, taking a break from the aches. I have pondered not continuing for several months, but this won't go over with my doctor. :( and I'm okay with that.
My real reason for being on here and so late, I was watching my eldest daughter draw tonight, she is an artist! And I read through some of my son's writings, HE IS AN AUTHOR! My youngest has removed her Barbie House and in it's place is a "desk" complete with phone, papers, pencils and "Work Stuff". I smile. Each of them has a little bit of me. That's why I'll continue on the Herceptin, that's why I'll fight every tummy ache, every achy joint, every tired morning and restless night. To be with them, to watch them grow, to send them to school. To cry with them and for them. And when it's all said and done. They will have this blog to look back at and say, "She wrote. She WROTE."
Love you, love me, love you, love me.
8.18.2016 She writes, she writes
Some 90's song... She bang, she bang. Well, for me and for tonight, I write. I write. My life just doesn't seem interesting enough to document.
Since my surgery about 3 weeks ago, I have been sitting in the armchair watching a show. It occured to me today, that I could be reading, studying, something ELSE.
I awoke to my daughter's radio, loudly playing Christian music and a few times I had thought I had heard her playing. But no, school has started 4 days ago and the quiet interrupted only by the sound of the washing machine or the dish washer. Or this crazy TV. I am ready to have my kids home with me all day. Sure I'm okay with sending them off to school the first couple of days, but then I wish them to be home with me. I think a big part of this has to do with the fact that I was a working mom for so many years and yearned to be at home with them. It is the hardest, most self-sacrificing, most rewarding job I have ever held. I get yelled at, then hugged. I get told no, I clean up gross stuff, then I get puppy eyes and good-night kisses.
I was due for a round of Herceptin 3 weeks ago, but I won't go in until next week for treatment. This has been good for my joints, taking a break from the aches. I have pondered not continuing for several months, but this won't go over with my doctor. :( and I'm okay with that.
My real reason for being on here and so late, I was watching my eldest daughter draw tonight, she is an artist! And I read through some of my son's writings, HE IS AN AUTHOR! My youngest has removed her Barbie House and in it's place is a "desk" complete with phone, papers, pencils and "Work Stuff". I smile. Each of them has a little bit of me. That's why I'll continue on the Herceptin, that's why I'll fight every tummy ache, every achy joint, every tired morning and restless night. To be with them, to watch them grow, to send them to school. To cry with them and for them. And when it's all said and done. They will have this blog to look back at and say, "She wrote. She WROTE."
Love you, love me, love you, love me.
Since my surgery about 3 weeks ago, I have been sitting in the armchair watching a show. It occured to me today, that I could be reading, studying, something ELSE.
I awoke to my daughter's radio, loudly playing Christian music and a few times I had thought I had heard her playing. But no, school has started 4 days ago and the quiet interrupted only by the sound of the washing machine or the dish washer. Or this crazy TV. I am ready to have my kids home with me all day. Sure I'm okay with sending them off to school the first couple of days, but then I wish them to be home with me. I think a big part of this has to do with the fact that I was a working mom for so many years and yearned to be at home with them. It is the hardest, most self-sacrificing, most rewarding job I have ever held. I get yelled at, then hugged. I get told no, I clean up gross stuff, then I get puppy eyes and good-night kisses.
I was due for a round of Herceptin 3 weeks ago, but I won't go in until next week for treatment. This has been good for my joints, taking a break from the aches. I have pondered not continuing for several months, but this won't go over with my doctor. :( and I'm okay with that.
My real reason for being on here and so late, I was watching my eldest daughter draw tonight, she is an artist! And I read through some of my son's writings, HE IS AN AUTHOR! My youngest has removed her Barbie House and in it's place is a "desk" complete with phone, papers, pencils and "Work Stuff". I smile. Each of them has a little bit of me. That's why I'll continue on the Herceptin, that's why I'll fight every tummy ache, every achy joint, every tired morning and restless night. To be with them, to watch them grow, to send them to school. To cry with them and for them. And when it's all said and done. They will have this blog to look back at and say, "She wrote. She WROTE."
Love you, love me, love you, love me.
Monday, August 1, 2016
8.1.16 Letting Go and Filling the Hole
Oh what a day it has been. It's been one of those days where I woke with a song, I sang aloud and felt joy. What joy to be alive, to breathe, to LIVE.
I am on sort of bed rest. I am not allowed to lift my arm above my shoulder, and required to bandage my chest. No showering until after my follow-up appointment (Wednesday). I found I can knit without difficulty, but pretty much anything other than walking, is painful. Pain pills = lethargy and anxiety and moodiness. And through all of this I am finding hope. I can still see hope, or sense it. There is no loss for me, God is right beside me guiding me and helping me see joy through the pain, and lessons through the trash. Yes, trash. The garbage.
About a year ago we lost one of our landline phones. Not a big issue right? We had an extra just use it. Well the battery died. Kaput. For several months we had nothing. No landline, I'm sure we weren't missing vital phone calls, but none-the-less, I'm kinda old school and like having a way for people to contact us if needed. I also feel very tied down when carrying my cellphone. So I turn the ringer off. I would say at this point almost permanently. I check it frequently and respond well to text messages. I listen to voice mail messages, although, very infrequently. So a power issue, pun intended. I like to be in control of who I talk to and when. I like being in control of, I just like being in control.
I prayed, I begged God to help me find the phone.
I tried to forget about it, tried to act like I didn't care.
Then I started shopping for a new phone, the timing was all off. We didn't have it in the budget, or when we did, I couldn't find the right one. We needed one with multiply handhelds, I really didn't want to have this happen again (also with the way landline services work now, you have one plugged into a cable box thing and other phones can just be plugged into the wall where ever need be.
Finally I broke down and asked friends and family to search their "garage sale" boxes to see if one could be given to me. I just couldn't see myself buying a whole new set of phones. Someone suggested the second hand stores. AH YES! So I found myself buying a "new" phone, and it looked just like the one I had at home!
Brought it home to find that it didn't match, it didn't have all the cords and it was missing a charger dock.
So another few months go by. I still search once in awhile. And then I'm sick of it. Sick of this grocery bag of phones and wires and charger docks. I told Bill to just get rid of it. I'm tired of thinking this phone is going to show up. I give up. As we lay it on top of the garbage bin, I think, "Ah, but what if...."
Two weeks later, Bill has cleaned out a closet downstairs. THERE it is. There is the missing phone. Arggggg. I begin the search. I search everywhere for the bag of old phones and wires. I already know it's been long gone, yet I search. I dig in the trash, I search empty boxes and boxes of stored items. I know I threw it out. They were old phones. But I wasn't able to let go. I was hanging on. To something useless. Something that no longer worked and would no longer work for our family, I was still hanging onto. Even after thinking I had let go and even made the motion to giving it up, somewhere deep in my mind, I was hanging on. Tonight I am ready to let go, truely let go and use what God has already given me (my cell phone) and I'm ready to be prepared for something new to come into my life. Something better, that will WORK and bless my family. I am so blessed to be able to look around my situation and to be happy and relize the freedom in letting go of that which weighs me down.
Just as an alcoholic, drug addict, someone struggling with letting go, after letting go, after leaving the weight and cutting the ties. After learning to live day by day, moment to moment, I am now ready for that hole to be filled with something great, be it LOVE, JOY, PEACE, LONG SUFFERING, GENTLENESS, GOODNESS, FAITH, MEEKNESS AND TEMPERANCE.
I am so blessed to share this challenge I am going through with YOU! Love you, love me, love you, love me!
I am on sort of bed rest. I am not allowed to lift my arm above my shoulder, and required to bandage my chest. No showering until after my follow-up appointment (Wednesday). I found I can knit without difficulty, but pretty much anything other than walking, is painful. Pain pills = lethargy and anxiety and moodiness. And through all of this I am finding hope. I can still see hope, or sense it. There is no loss for me, God is right beside me guiding me and helping me see joy through the pain, and lessons through the trash. Yes, trash. The garbage.
About a year ago we lost one of our landline phones. Not a big issue right? We had an extra just use it. Well the battery died. Kaput. For several months we had nothing. No landline, I'm sure we weren't missing vital phone calls, but none-the-less, I'm kinda old school and like having a way for people to contact us if needed. I also feel very tied down when carrying my cellphone. So I turn the ringer off. I would say at this point almost permanently. I check it frequently and respond well to text messages. I listen to voice mail messages, although, very infrequently. So a power issue, pun intended. I like to be in control of who I talk to and when. I like being in control of, I just like being in control.
I prayed, I begged God to help me find the phone.
I tried to forget about it, tried to act like I didn't care.
Then I started shopping for a new phone, the timing was all off. We didn't have it in the budget, or when we did, I couldn't find the right one. We needed one with multiply handhelds, I really didn't want to have this happen again (also with the way landline services work now, you have one plugged into a cable box thing and other phones can just be plugged into the wall where ever need be.
Finally I broke down and asked friends and family to search their "garage sale" boxes to see if one could be given to me. I just couldn't see myself buying a whole new set of phones. Someone suggested the second hand stores. AH YES! So I found myself buying a "new" phone, and it looked just like the one I had at home!
Brought it home to find that it didn't match, it didn't have all the cords and it was missing a charger dock.
So another few months go by. I still search once in awhile. And then I'm sick of it. Sick of this grocery bag of phones and wires and charger docks. I told Bill to just get rid of it. I'm tired of thinking this phone is going to show up. I give up. As we lay it on top of the garbage bin, I think, "Ah, but what if...."
Two weeks later, Bill has cleaned out a closet downstairs. THERE it is. There is the missing phone. Arggggg. I begin the search. I search everywhere for the bag of old phones and wires. I already know it's been long gone, yet I search. I dig in the trash, I search empty boxes and boxes of stored items. I know I threw it out. They were old phones. But I wasn't able to let go. I was hanging on. To something useless. Something that no longer worked and would no longer work for our family, I was still hanging onto. Even after thinking I had let go and even made the motion to giving it up, somewhere deep in my mind, I was hanging on. Tonight I am ready to let go, truely let go and use what God has already given me (my cell phone) and I'm ready to be prepared for something new to come into my life. Something better, that will WORK and bless my family. I am so blessed to be able to look around my situation and to be happy and relize the freedom in letting go of that which weighs me down.
Just as an alcoholic, drug addict, someone struggling with letting go, after letting go, after leaving the weight and cutting the ties. After learning to live day by day, moment to moment, I am now ready for that hole to be filled with something great, be it LOVE, JOY, PEACE, LONG SUFFERING, GENTLENESS, GOODNESS, FAITH, MEEKNESS AND TEMPERANCE.
I am so blessed to share this challenge I am going through with YOU! Love you, love me, love you, love me!
Monday, July 25, 2016
7.25.16 Sometimes...the unexpected
For the past several months or so I have been changing my words around. I don't say things are too hard or that I can't do this or that. I have decided to use the words challenge. Things are challenging, this is a challenge for me. I was challenged to do that. It has really helped in creating a different thought process for me. I am hoping it is helping my kids to understand too, that NOTHING in life is "TOO hard". My mom (by the way) hated when we would say "I can't do...". She would come back with the comment that "Well, I'm BLIND and if I can do it, you can. If I wasn't blind I would be using my hands right now to keep busy. You kids can do anything you want put your mind to" I smile thinking of that little comment.
So here I am. A week or so ago, I noticed a scab on one of my incisions. "Ah it's nothing." "A scab means it's healing". Then another and a small leak. Ah, I don't want to call my doctor, I missed my last appointment, I've forgotten to make another, I don't waaaaaaaant to go back. Then my breast gets red and kinda warm. I show Bill. "Make the appointment." I call and tell my nurse what's going on. She tells me to come in first thing in the morning.
"It's angry and needs some antibiotics to calm it down. The entire drive back to Wasilla I am woozy, feverish, and so very tired. When I get home I tell the kids I'm super sick and head straight to bed. I'm there all day and all night. The next morning I wake with the fever still hovering. I call Bill at work and call my doctor. At some point Bill hangs up with me and the next thing I know he's at home with me ready to take me to the E.R. in Anchorage. I'm walking around trying to figure out what I'm going to need. Will they admit me? Will they send me home? Do I need slippers? Do I take a puzzle book? I just want to crawl back into bed. I look up at Bill and the tears roll out of my eyes. "I don't want to go". "You HAVE to go". "My kids..." "They will be fine."
Less than an hour later and we are pulling up to the hospital. "Great, I have to sit in a waiting room".
I'm soon lead back to an examining room, where I tell my shortest version of my diagnosis to no less than 2 people. (All the time praying they take this information, go home to their wives and someone checks their own breasts that night.) As I listen to myself, I notice, part of my story includes that the night I found my first lump was date night. Today is kind of a date. We are alone in this room, talking, albeit, I feel hot and shivery, nausous and anxious and REALLY tired! After some time I see my oncologist, my plastic surgeon, a radiologist, a phlebotimist and a nurse. I'm moved to a room upstairs.
I spend the rest of the late afternoon and evening getting re-adjusted. Bill is on the phone with family. My first antibiotic treatment along with fluids are pumped in. I eat. Bill bring me nachos and I miss my kids. I send him home to them, I can't stand the thought of them home any later than it is already getting.
Sometime in the middle of the night my 2nd treatment is given.
I awake feeling better, but now this amazing headache. My doctor comes in and tells me, the breast is looking much better and the antibiotic seems to be taking it's course. I can have food again and we'll continue another day and see what it looks like tomorrow. I seriously want to hug this woman everytime I see her. I drink two cups of coffee and my headache, not so amazing. More like gone!
I spend the day in and out of bed, much better and yet not ready to run anywhere. It's Saturday and I tell Bill to spend it with the kids. Not to worry about coming to see me. I take a short walk around the hospital and wonder what my mission is. Why am I here? I keep hearing "Rest. REST. I am with you. I am holding your hand. I am with you, rest."
I awake Sunday. Too my angel doctor standing over me, I hate to wake you, I just need to take a quick peek. "Oh much better, much, much better. This is good we'll continue and see about removing this implant cleaning the area out and putting in a new implant." Have I said I want to hug this woman????
Sunday. Church, I miss my church, I miss my peeps. I ask for a robe and head downstairs to search out a service. Catholic Mass. Hmmm, never been to Mass before. It's like church right? I walk in and sit in the back. I am nervous and tell someone I am Christian and have never been to Mass, can I still come? He says yes and just like the Father said a few weeks ago, Jesus said "All. Come ALL." I am all today. The service is beautiful, the message, just what I needed. About pausing for a moment and being close to the one who loves me, Jesus."
After Mass I head back up to my room. I'm doing fine. Haven't cried in like a whole 24 plus hours. I got this!! Go for another walk and low and behold Bill and the kids finally make it. I am ectactic, sheesh! This is what it's like to get visitors! What joy! Chatting and laughing, joking. It feels like the moments fly. Before too long, it is time for them to go. The tears flood, I cry, "Only a couple of days kiddos, only a couple of days." I know that spending my time here for a few days will result in more time at home with my family. I have chosen not to complain or to cry about going home. Yes, I want to, but this time is for me to REST and to lean into HIM, TRUST in HIM, TAKE COMFORT IN HIM." I am choosing that this time, sometimes, the unexpected is exactly what I need, I just didn't know it. Love you, love me, love you, love me.
Rhonda
So here I am. A week or so ago, I noticed a scab on one of my incisions. "Ah it's nothing." "A scab means it's healing". Then another and a small leak. Ah, I don't want to call my doctor, I missed my last appointment, I've forgotten to make another, I don't waaaaaaaant to go back. Then my breast gets red and kinda warm. I show Bill. "Make the appointment." I call and tell my nurse what's going on. She tells me to come in first thing in the morning.
"It's angry and needs some antibiotics to calm it down. The entire drive back to Wasilla I am woozy, feverish, and so very tired. When I get home I tell the kids I'm super sick and head straight to bed. I'm there all day and all night. The next morning I wake with the fever still hovering. I call Bill at work and call my doctor. At some point Bill hangs up with me and the next thing I know he's at home with me ready to take me to the E.R. in Anchorage. I'm walking around trying to figure out what I'm going to need. Will they admit me? Will they send me home? Do I need slippers? Do I take a puzzle book? I just want to crawl back into bed. I look up at Bill and the tears roll out of my eyes. "I don't want to go". "You HAVE to go". "My kids..." "They will be fine."
Less than an hour later and we are pulling up to the hospital. "Great, I have to sit in a waiting room".
I'm soon lead back to an examining room, where I tell my shortest version of my diagnosis to no less than 2 people. (All the time praying they take this information, go home to their wives and someone checks their own breasts that night.) As I listen to myself, I notice, part of my story includes that the night I found my first lump was date night. Today is kind of a date. We are alone in this room, talking, albeit, I feel hot and shivery, nausous and anxious and REALLY tired! After some time I see my oncologist, my plastic surgeon, a radiologist, a phlebotimist and a nurse. I'm moved to a room upstairs.
I spend the rest of the late afternoon and evening getting re-adjusted. Bill is on the phone with family. My first antibiotic treatment along with fluids are pumped in. I eat. Bill bring me nachos and I miss my kids. I send him home to them, I can't stand the thought of them home any later than it is already getting.
Sometime in the middle of the night my 2nd treatment is given.
I awake feeling better, but now this amazing headache. My doctor comes in and tells me, the breast is looking much better and the antibiotic seems to be taking it's course. I can have food again and we'll continue another day and see what it looks like tomorrow. I seriously want to hug this woman everytime I see her. I drink two cups of coffee and my headache, not so amazing. More like gone!
I spend the day in and out of bed, much better and yet not ready to run anywhere. It's Saturday and I tell Bill to spend it with the kids. Not to worry about coming to see me. I take a short walk around the hospital and wonder what my mission is. Why am I here? I keep hearing "Rest. REST. I am with you. I am holding your hand. I am with you, rest."
I awake Sunday. Too my angel doctor standing over me, I hate to wake you, I just need to take a quick peek. "Oh much better, much, much better. This is good we'll continue and see about removing this implant cleaning the area out and putting in a new implant." Have I said I want to hug this woman????
Sunday. Church, I miss my church, I miss my peeps. I ask for a robe and head downstairs to search out a service. Catholic Mass. Hmmm, never been to Mass before. It's like church right? I walk in and sit in the back. I am nervous and tell someone I am Christian and have never been to Mass, can I still come? He says yes and just like the Father said a few weeks ago, Jesus said "All. Come ALL." I am all today. The service is beautiful, the message, just what I needed. About pausing for a moment and being close to the one who loves me, Jesus."
After Mass I head back up to my room. I'm doing fine. Haven't cried in like a whole 24 plus hours. I got this!! Go for another walk and low and behold Bill and the kids finally make it. I am ectactic, sheesh! This is what it's like to get visitors! What joy! Chatting and laughing, joking. It feels like the moments fly. Before too long, it is time for them to go. The tears flood, I cry, "Only a couple of days kiddos, only a couple of days." I know that spending my time here for a few days will result in more time at home with my family. I have chosen not to complain or to cry about going home. Yes, I want to, but this time is for me to REST and to lean into HIM, TRUST in HIM, TAKE COMFORT IN HIM." I am choosing that this time, sometimes, the unexpected is exactly what I need, I just didn't know it. Love you, love me, love you, love me.
Rhonda
Monday, June 20, 2016
6.20.16 When abandoned, Sad really
Ah yes, a sad post... No not really. I happenstance on a blog I once read going through my treatment. I was desperate you see. I was going through the worst of the worst chemo nausea. Stomach issues reeling me into a fetal position on the bathroom floor or in my bed. I cried, nothing soothed. I was given a manual of sorts from the Oncology clinic and had read it front to back and back to front. Beyond frantic I think I was about 3 days out from chemotherapy. So desperately I searched the internet. I typed in something, I don't recall. And up came a blog post about chemo and tums. It was witty and smart and real. I could relate. And so my relationship with tums began. (I found I could tolerate tums and grapes.) Although the blog was two years old, I read and read. It was written by the wife of a man who had brain cancer. They were living their life to the utmost. He was considered stage 4 and unlikely to live longer than I believe a year. He was going through treatment and she was blogging, going through with him. And then, without warning, the posts stopped. Did he live? Were they still together? What had become of my fellow blogging family? I searched the internet. And there they were. He was alive two years later, they were still married. He was living a "normal" life. I could be this person, I could take my tums and live another 2 years, 20 years. I smiled. I found someone who went through this. But the blog, why did it stop, why did she stop posting? Well as inspiration finds others, people began to give so that this couple could live. So they could travel, so dreams could come true. And then someone questioned why this couple needed this. Accusations flew and jealously grew. And it was about this time the blog ended. The real reasons are only known by the writer. I look at this story and see who lived the life. Who deserved to live the life. We all do. In giving selflessly, we live, and we will continue to live as long as we remember it is to be selflessly. See this couple they gave, they gave their story and it helped me to live. I see this blog as my way of giving. It's what I have. It's the story God has given me to share, so I must continue to share and not abandon it, because that would be sad really. Love you, love me, love you, love me.
Wednesday, June 8, 2016
6.7.16 It's Been a Long Time
There's a song with these. It's by a group called "Backyard Tire Fire". Great song. I love it. It reminds me of recovery. It's been a long time since the skin I'm in felt like mine. I can't seem to find the song online now. But it reminds me of this blog. So here it is. A long time later.
But... it is later. I have found my way back. I moved my TV out of my room shortly after the last post, began working out and now, here. I'm back in my garden, back to life and back to reality. Why all the song lyrics tonight? Not sure.
I had my final surgery to remove my expanders and place in my implants in. So they are in and I am
almost 7 and 1/2 weeks out. I have yet to return to the gym at 100%. All in good time though. The pain at times has been excruciating. Crying, yelping (?) in pain. But it's been mostly nerve pain and lasts for only a second or two (okay maybe a minute). But it ends and I live. :)
I am loving life this Spring/ Summer. I have my family, a chicken coop, a small garden and Tree Bear in my life and am learning to take care of them and myself. I have been through some difficult challenges these last few months, but it has taught me that there is sunshine and life beyond the cold, dark days.
I continue on Herceptin, my maintenance chemotherapy drug, with side effects minimal at this point. I still have achy joints, am tired some days, have dry skin, but all of this is doable, and with all honesty, pleasure compared to other challenges I have faced.
With this I will sign off. Love you, love me, love you, love me.
But... it is later. I have found my way back. I moved my TV out of my room shortly after the last post, began working out and now, here. I'm back in my garden, back to life and back to reality. Why all the song lyrics tonight? Not sure.
I had my final surgery to remove my expanders and place in my implants in. So they are in and I am
almost 7 and 1/2 weeks out. I have yet to return to the gym at 100%. All in good time though. The pain at times has been excruciating. Crying, yelping (?) in pain. But it's been mostly nerve pain and lasts for only a second or two (okay maybe a minute). But it ends and I live. :)
I am loving life this Spring/ Summer. I have my family, a chicken coop, a small garden and Tree Bear in my life and am learning to take care of them and myself. I have been through some difficult challenges these last few months, but it has taught me that there is sunshine and life beyond the cold, dark days.
I continue on Herceptin, my maintenance chemotherapy drug, with side effects minimal at this point. I still have achy joints, am tired some days, have dry skin, but all of this is doable, and with all honesty, pleasure compared to other challenges I have faced.
With this I will sign off. Love you, love me, love you, love me.
Saturday, January 9, 2016
1.9.16 About Nothing Blog
This is where the blogging gets difficult. Where the rubber meets the road. Where I DID NOT DO a thing today, I have no inspiration. So therefore where life gets boring... I wonder if celebrities get bored? I guess if they are human.
I did sleep in Elizabeth's room last night. Or I should say, tossed and turned. Then moved into our room this morning and slept until 1. I dreamt I was being chased on a pirate ship. I wonder what that means? I actually did do something, something I guess I'm a little embarrassed about. I've been watching "House, M.D." on Netflix. I am finally on season 8 of 8. Yes, a Netflix marathon. I really do need more of a life. Ah yes. But it keeps my mind busy and I am motivated to finish watching all of it. Why? I DON'T KNOW!
Maybe my motivation is to be honest.
Love you, love me, love you, love me.
Maybe I should start a list of possible blog topics... At least it wasn't a BAD day. So therefore, it was a good day.
I did sleep in Elizabeth's room last night. Or I should say, tossed and turned. Then moved into our room this morning and slept until 1. I dreamt I was being chased on a pirate ship. I wonder what that means? I actually did do something, something I guess I'm a little embarrassed about. I've been watching "House, M.D." on Netflix. I am finally on season 8 of 8. Yes, a Netflix marathon. I really do need more of a life. Ah yes. But it keeps my mind busy and I am motivated to finish watching all of it. Why? I DON'T KNOW!
Maybe my motivation is to be honest.
Love you, love me, love you, love me.
Maybe I should start a list of possible blog topics... At least it wasn't a BAD day. So therefore, it was a good day.
Friday, January 8, 2016
1.8.16 Only a few complaints
So I've been thinking, today is date day. Friday. I missed it today. I missed church the last couple of weeks, due to sleep.
Ah yes, I don't if anyone else has noticed, but I started labeling my blogs. Just because I am curious about how many times I bring certain subjects up. lol.
Sleep. Sleep eludes me. Or completely takes over me. It's not a completely unpleasant side effect. Just annoying. I was telling Bill I either sleep 4 hours or 10 hours. Okay, now I think I'm just at the point of complaining now.
Since my incision, and re-stitch, I had my new stitches in for about 2 weeks. I had them taken out last Monday another fill. Slowly but getting there. Which is what I orginally wanted. I have treatment this week and another fill next week. After this last dozy, I really wish I can stop treatment all together. If I'm already sleeping this much...Whoa, falling into the complaining lap again.
So, before I continue to complain, I will sign off. But not before I say a huge thank you to my teenagers for keeping me real!
Love you, love me, love you, love me.
Ah yes, I don't if anyone else has noticed, but I started labeling my blogs. Just because I am curious about how many times I bring certain subjects up. lol.
Sleep. Sleep eludes me. Or completely takes over me. It's not a completely unpleasant side effect. Just annoying. I was telling Bill I either sleep 4 hours or 10 hours. Okay, now I think I'm just at the point of complaining now.
Since my incision, and re-stitch, I had my new stitches in for about 2 weeks. I had them taken out last Monday another fill. Slowly but getting there. Which is what I orginally wanted. I have treatment this week and another fill next week. After this last dozy, I really wish I can stop treatment all together. If I'm already sleeping this much...Whoa, falling into the complaining lap again.
So, before I continue to complain, I will sign off. But not before I say a huge thank you to my teenagers for keeping me real!
Love you, love me, love you, love me.
Thursday, January 7, 2016
1.7.16 Author
I wonder how many times I start this blog and never even know what I am going to write about. Some authors may tell you this is not writing, but ah, my friend, it is. For you see they are words and they are meant to be read. I want to be an author. I want, oh, wait, I am. I AM AN AUTHOR! And a mom! I have days where I can't seem to muster the strength to get out of bed, but author's don't need to get out of bed, and. AND... mom's, good mom's don't need to either. If you do to the best of your ability, that is good. Yesterday was a dozy. I could blame on emotions, but it wasn't just emotions. I had apologies to get out, I had fears and loss to feel. To clarify, (because this is an open blog and I have shared it with my older kids), I had to apologize to another adult yesterday. I had to transition or change and they way in which I did, left me feeling as if I manipulated the situation for the other person to feel sorry for me, instead of bowing out gracefully, I thrashed about. I didn't like her.
The fears I had, well, there's this fear when you apologize, that it won't be accepted. But someone told me once that when we apologize and ask for forgiveness, and step back, the ball is in their court. We can receive what they have to say or not say, but then game over. Walk off, walk off knowing you did your very best. The very best to your ability, that is good.
The loss I felt, just came from missing another female I could talk to. I wanted to share with one of these women. I know now, I HAVE to be able to share with my heavenly Father, my husband and to seek out and trust other women. It will come, all in good time. Today, I am actually pretty proud of myself. I did something huge yesterday. In my life. I also recognize it is January, the 19th was my mom's birthday, I am No Evidence of Disease and transitioning into that realization. That I don't have this disease, but my job right now is to keep fighting it. Fighting the negativity in my life and moving forward to a life MORE fulfilling than any I've ever know. (Oh, and I also learned authors can and should use spellcheck). Love you, love me, love you, love me!
The fears I had, well, there's this fear when you apologize, that it won't be accepted. But someone told me once that when we apologize and ask for forgiveness, and step back, the ball is in their court. We can receive what they have to say or not say, but then game over. Walk off, walk off knowing you did your very best. The very best to your ability, that is good.
The loss I felt, just came from missing another female I could talk to. I wanted to share with one of these women. I know now, I HAVE to be able to share with my heavenly Father, my husband and to seek out and trust other women. It will come, all in good time. Today, I am actually pretty proud of myself. I did something huge yesterday. In my life. I also recognize it is January, the 19th was my mom's birthday, I am No Evidence of Disease and transitioning into that realization. That I don't have this disease, but my job right now is to keep fighting it. Fighting the negativity in my life and moving forward to a life MORE fulfilling than any I've ever know. (Oh, and I also learned authors can and should use spellcheck). Love you, love me, love you, love me!
1.7.16 Mimic
I don't even know where to begin.
https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8719469485576497233#editor/target=post;postID=7055619257514617046;onPublishedMenu=posts;onClosedMenu=posts;postNum=4;src=postname
This was a post from awhile back. Trials. Trials that day. Mimic the trials of today. An unbroken circle. Oh, when will I learn? When will I learn to trust, that maybe this is what I should be doing. Late into the night, early in the morning, typing. Letting it all go, letting it all out.
I started a Girl Scout troop for E. Let me rephrase. I helped start a Girl Scout troop. It, strained me. It challenged me, to the point of stress. But I still loved it. But it wasn't my calling for now. When Olivia was this age, I lead her scout troop. I loved it, I was challenged and I loved it. I could feel the impact I was making on young lives. I still to this day love those girls. My girls. I thought it would be the same. I thought I would be making the same impact. But... So... I quit. Or as I told Elizabeth today, I stopped for a little while, leading, but I am still a girl scout, just doing different things now. I guess I feel somewhat like a failure. I apoligized for how I left, it was ugly and it wasn't me. Not to the girls but to myself, to those around me. Even after the apology, I didn't feel the release. I had no one to really share with.
You know how you have that one or two friends you can share with and they just get it. They know exactly what to say. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself" or "It's okay, cry for a minute." I don't really have that right now. I'm searching for her. That one person I can trust with all of my aches, joys, pains, smiles. Share verbally. I'm learning how to trust. I am learning who I am. All of this again. I am relearning I am coming full circle? What is that saying? Insanity, is just doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results? I know this blog is what I am called to do, and I don't know why. I spend so much time worrying about why and trying to figure it out, when I should just be typing. Just type. It will come out. Then it is fully released. See I learned awhile ago. You should apologize, you should forgive, but then there has to be an action. A change in behavior. I hope, I pray I can change this, attitude in trying to find (just do) and trusting (just do).
Does this make sense? Love you, love me, love you, love me.
https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8719469485576497233#editor/target=post;postID=7055619257514617046;onPublishedMenu=posts;onClosedMenu=posts;postNum=4;src=postname
This was a post from awhile back. Trials. Trials that day. Mimic the trials of today. An unbroken circle. Oh, when will I learn? When will I learn to trust, that maybe this is what I should be doing. Late into the night, early in the morning, typing. Letting it all go, letting it all out.
I started a Girl Scout troop for E. Let me rephrase. I helped start a Girl Scout troop. It, strained me. It challenged me, to the point of stress. But I still loved it. But it wasn't my calling for now. When Olivia was this age, I lead her scout troop. I loved it, I was challenged and I loved it. I could feel the impact I was making on young lives. I still to this day love those girls. My girls. I thought it would be the same. I thought I would be making the same impact. But... So... I quit. Or as I told Elizabeth today, I stopped for a little while, leading, but I am still a girl scout, just doing different things now. I guess I feel somewhat like a failure. I apoligized for how I left, it was ugly and it wasn't me. Not to the girls but to myself, to those around me. Even after the apology, I didn't feel the release. I had no one to really share with.
You know how you have that one or two friends you can share with and they just get it. They know exactly what to say. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself" or "It's okay, cry for a minute." I don't really have that right now. I'm searching for her. That one person I can trust with all of my aches, joys, pains, smiles. Share verbally. I'm learning how to trust. I am learning who I am. All of this again. I am relearning I am coming full circle? What is that saying? Insanity, is just doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results? I know this blog is what I am called to do, and I don't know why. I spend so much time worrying about why and trying to figure it out, when I should just be typing. Just type. It will come out. Then it is fully released. See I learned awhile ago. You should apologize, you should forgive, but then there has to be an action. A change in behavior. I hope, I pray I can change this, attitude in trying to find (just do) and trusting (just do).
Does this make sense? Love you, love me, love you, love me.
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| quilt piece from a project runway participant |
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