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"Life always offers you a second chance, it's called tomorrow...the past cannot be changed, forgotten, edited, or erased...it can only be accepted."

Monday, September 18, 2017

The 20th of September

It's that stupid day again. The day of the year where no matter how great things are going in my life, and no matter how healed I feel..I suddenly revert back to a zombified idiot. I can't concentrate, I'm mad at the world for no logical reason and I just feel like the world is crashing down around me.

Now why is it that one day...the date of something...cause me to lose my mind? It doesn't make sense to a logical person. Nothing bad is happening today...no one is hurting me...but I feel like I've been punched in the gut. It happens every year. You think it would get better in time...everyone says it does at least. Yet here we are 5 years later and it still feels like it happened a matter of days ago.

Maybe it's because it's all at the forefront of my brain today, when on other days I am sometimes blessed enough to forget it all. Either way, I'm not a fan of the constant nagging reminder that this time 5 years ago...I could barely pull myself up off the floor.

Well let's be fair. I couldn't stop cooking or cleaning...and then I took off to an island for a week of vacation that I was barely conscious for.

Not exactly "healthy" coping mechanisms. Let alone things I could (or would) do now.

Real life conversation in my kitchen earlier:
Me- "I kinda want to go to the casino and make a lot of money. Simply so I can bet it on his birthday or something. That way...when I lose...I have another reason to be mad at him again."
...silence...
Me- "Is that unhealthy?"
Husband- "Yes..."

Here's the real deal. I don't have the answers. I am frustrated, I am still irrationally angry at my father, but I'm also remarkably hurt by the lost promises and the idea that I will never again get to talk to him. Then on the other hand...I still have no interest in talking to him, and I thank God daily that I no longer have to live in fear.

It's a strange thing living in fear. It's something that never leaves you. When it is that ingrained in your brain...and your body has spent 15 years watching every corner and every car that goes by...you don't really know how to turn it off.

I try to. But it sneaks up on me sometimes, and then leaves me reeling. I am relieved that I no longer have a logical fear associated with that panic moment. I am relieved that when I feel that way...I can honestly tell myself that he is gone, and has no ability to continuously terrorize me and the people that I love.

Then days like today hit. I find myself replaying the moments from hell over the years and getting angry. I am so pissed off that some man was able to put so many people through so much incredible pain. As a mother...I commend my mother for not burying the man in a shallow grave down by the river.

I digress. The man caused pain that can never truly heal...and for that I'm not sure I can ever really forgive him. He had no remorse for the things that he did or the lives that he ruined. He was so intensely mentally ill and addicted that he was a shell of a person. With no real feelings or thoughts that weren't controlled by substances.

So why do I miss him? Why do days like today hurt my heart, and why do the words "my father died" still make me nauseous? Why can I usually have a normal conversation about him and how the experiences shaped me for the better...but then on days like today I can't explain what the day is without tearing up?

It's September 20th. I guess you could call it my "dark day."

Monday, September 11, 2017

It's your life

It's funny how the past sneaks up on you. 

And I don't mean the cutesy drawings you find from your grade school days...or the kid you teased on the bus becoming your boss. I'm not talking basic irony. I mean the big stuff. The moments or the people that pop back up into your life like a bat out of hell. The moments that kind of make your heart skip...and make you wonder if you have made the right decisions for yourself and for your kids.

The last two years have been weird. I was given this amazing gift in our daughter...a gift I never thought I would get. At the same time I lost 3 of my best friends in this world...and it changed my world. On a daily basis I question if we've made the right decisions as a family...if I made the right decisions as a person.

It's been a doozy of a week. Hell...I take that back. A doozy month. A lot of information that my brain isn't quite equipped to handle. I am taking care of a million things, and trying to keep this house running on my own. I am killing myself at work and running myself ragged running my business at home. I am exhausted, and my brain is overflowing. I have so much that I want to do, and so many things I'm trying to accomplish.

Tonight I had to stop myself. I had to realize that I am doing my best and I need to give myself a break. I want to write more for my own sanity...I wish my house was cleaner. I wish I was more caught up on schoolwork, and I wish I was a better friend that paid more attention to what the people around me are going through.

But...

I HAVE TO STOP BEATING MYSELF UP. 

The things in the last two years...have happened for a reason. If I have any hope of keeping myself and this family going over the next 9 months...I have to stop kicking myself when I'm down. I push myself to a breaking point...and then push a little harder just to see if I can handle it. I have aspirations that are likely out of my reach...but I am going to push to hit them anyways. I want our kids to have a better life...I want them to see people working hard for what they want.

So here's the deal. I'm a mom and a bonus mom...who aspires to be as close to Lorelei Gilmore as possible. I'm a business owner that keeps notes and reminders written on her hands...and then showers forgetting they are there. I'm a wife that has a ridiculous crush on her husband...but has an attitude that gives the poor man a run for his money. I'm a student that can't keep up with basic tasks, but can write a 10 page paper during an after dinner cup of coffee.

I'm a walking contradiction...and I'm not perfect. But I am working my ass off. I'm trying to avoid an existential crisis while still keeping everyone in this house alive. I have unrealistic expectations for myself...but I'm willing to work hard enough that unrealistic becomes a reality.

I'm beyond lucky to have a partner that supports my insanity.

And I'm so thankful for all of those pieces of my past sneaking up to remind me of that. I have all of the things that I wanted and talked about for years...the love, the home, the kids...everything. And if we don't slow down for a second and realize the good things we have...we're going to miss our lives flying by.


Here's to the exhaustion. 
To the very late nights and the frustrating days. 
The endless to do lists and the laundry pile that never stops growing. 

Here's to toddlers that rip apart what you did just moments before, and the husbands that want attention at the worst times. 

Here's to learning to love every moment of the chaos...because it's your life. 

And here's to loving yourself because you're doing the absolute best you can.

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Reality check

This has to be included in my last post of frustration.

I could truly not be happier with the amount of love in my life.


Sometimes you have to reality check yourself. 

Sometimes you have to remind yourself of the amazing love that surrounds you.

It is what it is

For weeks I have been just surviving. I don't know what other way to put that...other than I have been just keeping my head above water.

That probably means nothing to you. A lot of people will take that as a "she just managed to get everything done in time." When to me it means "she just managed to get out of bed."

I don't know how to explain it. These things hit me...and they hit me hard. I have had multiple panic attacks almost every day for no reason. I'm snapping at my daughter, my immune system is tanking, and I haven't slept more than 4 hours in weeks.

My husband is gone for a few weeks. And I am struggling.

Here's the honest truth...and something that is really hard for me to admit. I am horrible when it comes to being alone. I'm all "Miss Independent" "I've got this" "watch me rock this." But then I get home, I put my daughter to bed...and I'm panic attack city.

Lately it's been everything. Sunsets, smells, songs...

I see my dad, I smell him, I hear him...and I can't function. My heart races, my body freezes up...I feel tears coming for seemingly no reason.

It is taking everything in me to keep moving. I don't know why...I hate it. I despise feeling this way, and my chest constantly feels heavy. But I feel like I can't breathe.

I want to be honest as I've always been. I don't know why my heart hurts lately. It's been years, and my life is better than it has ever been. It doesn't make sense for things to hurt right now...it doesn't make sense that my heart aches for someone who really never gave a shit.

But it does. Summers were the good times, or at least the easier times. The nights on the boat, the evenings running around the docks...the times my father started to act like a normal human being.

I don't know why it hurts. I don't know why I miss the lunatic that made my life hell for 20 years.

I do know that it hurts. And this year it feels worse than usual.

I miss my dad.

Not a damn thing is ever going to change that.

Friday, May 19, 2017

Maybe he is there

I spent the afternoon driving a route for our motorcycle ride on Sunday for Adamshine. Within two hours I was frustrated as the route we had planned was not safe for bikes...and I refuse to put anyone in a dangerous situation. I was driving circles trying to rewrite our route.

I came flying down a hill, irritated as it was my third "go" at trying to make it work and I was running out of options. It had been starting to rain, and I was drained.

The sun had tried to peak through...but not enough. I was feeling defeated.

As I came down the hill a James Taylor song came on. One I hadn't heard in years. I instantly felt my attitude change a little...and then I saw it.

Cascade.

I know that road like the back of my hand. I blew past it because I was trying to finish the route. I got to the next road we were supposed to turn down...and for the 40th time today...gravel. Road work. A big old NOPE in the bike world.

So I turned around. I went back to Cascade. And guys...the sun came out. It started SHINING.

I went down the road...and stopped on a bridge.

I lost it. Tears pouring.

The waterfall where I spread my father's ashes is just off of Cascade Road.

The route works through that road. It's the only one that isn't destroyed from winter plowing.

Today I was supposed to be on that road. He tried to tell me and I didn't listen.

So maybe he is there. Even when I fight it.

For the first time in any moment I can remember...I have to say thanks dad. I didn't expect that today. And it has me feeling things I had buried years ago.

Saturday, May 6, 2017

The smell

It's the smell...the noise...the momentary lapse in your brain that you remember everything.

You remember the screaming and the hell. You remember all of the bad.

You don't know why the memories chose that moment to come through...but the reality is that they come back ten fold.

I was standing at the sink tonight when my dad's cologne came through. The window was open...but that was a smell I haven't experienced in over ten years. It came back STRONG. It made my heart beat a little faster, and my instant reaction was to check the back door. It made me nervous. It made me uncomfortable. It made me question everything in the house for a moment.

He's gone. Has been for years. But those triggers are very much alive.

There was no one there. Obviously nothing was wrong...the cologne was a figment of my own neurotic stress.

Never doubt someone when they talk about their triggers. You have no idea how easily a noise, smell, overall "feeling" can slam someone like a freight train.

It's been a rough few weeks.

Thursday, April 20, 2017

Remind me

My dad's pictures hang in our upstairs hallway. I notice them EVERY time I walk by...and I consistently think about taking them down. 

What do I hope to accomplish by keeping them there? They hurt me. They remind me that there were these good moments despite the hell...and that is something that I continuously struggle with. How can there be good when there was that much bad? They remind me that I MISS HIM. They remind me that I want a dad. They remind me that some bullshit things happened when I was a kid.

But they also remind me that my kids have a dad. A dad that adores them with every fiber of him. A dad that works so hard to keep us all together and afloat. A dad that is fighting to get through school while doing everything else...just so that we can all live a great life. This man is showing his kids that when you work for things you want, they can happen.

Those photos remind me of where I came from. I came from a lot of scary situations. I came from a girl who was scared to trust anyone...but clung to everyone. 

And now I'm not that girl anymore. I have built a home with a man who is better than I could have hoped for. I have a beautiful bonus girl, and a miracle baby. I have everything I wanted and that much more. 

So I will leave the pictures. Because I am stronger because of them. I am stronger because of the man in them. I am unshakeable because I went through so much so fast.

He's still gone, it still hurts, I still wish I had a dad. It aches every day when I pass those pictures. 

But I'm okay. I have been able to survive so much because of the things that he did and the life that he lived. I have learned so much, and I have gotten to a place where I feel I can be a better parent because of him. 

And I will see him every day.