Well before I have had time to blink half the summer is over! I can hardly believe that in another month I'll be preparing to send my babies back to school. This is the last year of grade school for my Ellie, and I can hardly believe where the time has gone. Our first year as a family of 3 Ellie was just starting kindergarten. As I look back on those years with all the heartache that I've dealt with, I can also recall some wonderful elementary school moments. In the midst of divorce, court proceedings, custody issues, bankruptcy, disease, and illness my little family has also enjoyed ball games, recitals, school plays, choir concerts, science fairs, birthday tables, spelling bee's, and other very "regular" elementary functions. It's amazing now as I look back and remember all the good that came along with the bad. When I went through each trial over the different years I remember thinking...."this is the year that will defined by HIV." Or..."this will be the year that will be defined as my divorce year." It's always hard while you're going through some awful situation to look around at all the positive that is also happening. It's like the BAD consumed all my thoughts, and somehow I managed to go through the motions of day to day life, but I never could see the blessings that I was blessed with while trudging along. I have always looked to the growth process of the lotus flower. These beautiful flowers that bloom on the waters surface have a very difficult and a rather unpleasant life before they hit the top of the water. This flower starts in the mud. Buried down deep in the ickiest muck the seed of the lotus flower starts. Many lotus flowers don't make it out of the mud. They suffocate and die. It takes years for the flower to persist and grow up through the dirty and dark mud beneath the water. After much of their life in the mud and darkness the flower finally reaches the top of the water, and can finally bloom and bask in the warmth of the sun.
During the different times that I have spent under the water and in the dark and dirty mud I have had a difficult time knowing that if I stay steadfast I will eventually hit that goal of the top of the water and reach the warmth of the sun. I don't know if the lotus flower knows before hand that it will eventually reach the sun? But I have learned a life lesson from the lifecycle of this flower. During the times that my life is in the mud, I need to remember that if I don't give up and surrender my spirit I will reach the surface and feel the sun again. This is a lesson I learned a few years ago, and it has helped me tremendously when looking at what I may be dealing with in the present and also what the future may hold for me. Before I had really experienced hard trials I didn't have any idea how to deal with such difficulties. Although I may still be only in my 30's, I do feel as though I have a couple life notches in my belt. I have dealt with some tough things, and while I went through them it was hard to not let them consume me. It was hard to look at anything positive because all around me was so negative. So I thought. Looking back now, I had positive around me even then. My beautiful girls have always been there. My oldest who started my divorced journey with me when she started kindergarten has always been a straight A student, excelled in sports, choir, school plays, and is becoming more and more the best big sister ever. This is just one example of the positive, or my lotus flower, that has blossomed after coming up through some of life's mud.
Now I have learned that bad days do come. Sometimes they come in the form of bad weeks. Bad things happen. Life will throw the biggest curve balls our way. But without these trials I wouldn't have learned a great lesson. I try my hardest not to concentrate on the dark, cold mud. But when I'm having a rough time or a severe struggle with something I look up toward the sun and know that I will bloom again. I'm so grateful for this life on earth. I am so grateful for EVERY lesson I learn. Everyday here with my family and loved ones is a blessing that I do not take for granted. I try to embrace each morning and give thanks each evening for the day that I've been given. I take deep breaths that fill my lungs all the way. I try my hardest not to put something off until tomorrow that can be done today. My kids keep growing up, and summer 2015 is halfway over. I'd better make sure to spend as much time as I can with these 2 young women blooming with them in the sun!
The Girls 2014
"Enjoy the little things in life for one day you'll look back and realize they were the big things."
Sunday, July 19, 2015
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
Chapter 15
Sometimes, more than not, I get to urge to want to write things down, but then somehow when I sit down in front of my screen to type I don't know where to start? I'm sure I'm not the only one that has a million ideas and thoughts rambling through my head, but can't seem to find the right way to convey them out on paper.
This last month for me has been a strange one. More emotional than most previous months. I underwent a complete hysterectomy at the end of February, and coming to terms with emotions and feelings has been an ongoing battle for the last 6 weeks. It's kind of strange. I have felt completely out of place. I am, for the most part not an emotional person. Or at least, if I feel that I need time to cry, or break down, I will usually go into my room and have these tender moments late at night; in private, and not in front of anyone. I have always been a rather private person when it comes to expressing emotion, or showing any signs of weakness with emotion. The less vulnerable I feel in public the more confident I feel in private. Maybe that doesn't make much sense to many, but to me crying has always been a sign of weakness, and I have learned to hide it or stuff it away. A hysterectomy however has allowed these emotions to come forward and manifest themselves without my consent. I can be completely fine; feeling in total control of my emotions when the slightest tender moment will set me off like a water hose. I think that I have cried at every ASPCA and Adopt A Child commercial out there. Any kind of tender moment has been an open invitation for my feelings to manifest themselves in the form of tears. Those of you who have had children may understand these feelings. I remember after I had delivered Ellie, and I was at home with a newborn. Neighbors, friends, and family called on the phone to express congratulations, and simply ask if I needed anything. With all my might I would try and give a simple answer, but the hormones would take over and the tears would start to fall. Somehow I would muster the words, "No.....I'm fine." So with the hysterectomy has come the flood of emotions. Mostly the leakage of tears from my eyes or silly things. However, it did occur to me that one night as I was sobbing into my pillow for no real reason at all that perhaps I really did need to cry. Instead of trying to stop the tears from flowing I decided to let them come. More freely and openly that I had before. I must have cried for a good hour. When I was finished I honestly felt cleansed. I began to think. You know, it wasn't my fault that a hysterectomy at age 35 was necessary. I wouldn't have had to have dealt with this issue if it weren't for other health problems passed on without my consent. I had done nothing wrong to my body to have this operation. Maybe I needed to cry at the past that I had bee supressing. Maybe it was ok for me to be angry at those in my life who had made this choice for me. Cervical cancer may or may not have come at the early age of 35, but I certainly know that HIV running through my blood helped speed the process up. Maybe I needed to cry because if I was to ever marry, or be in a relationship again I would have to explain to that innocent man why they would need to take a pill everyday that in a sense is a poison to your body. Overall, maybe I just needed to cry. Cry for things that I had not cried for in such a long time. It was cleansing for my soul. It was refreshing, and although I had the awful headache that comes when one cries so much I really did feel better.
These last few weeks of school have been interesting. I can hardly believe that next year I will have a 6th grader. The fact that Olivia will be in 2nd grade doesn't seem to hit me as hard as Ellie in the 6th grade. We had the official "sex" talk the other night. I recall a lot of blank stares on her part as I tried to explain what happens between a man and a woman when they love each other and desire to have children. After about 15 minutes of talking, she replied, "Mom I have to process this, could you just leave and give me a minute?" Being a little floored, but at the same time wanting to respect her space I reluctantly left the room. About 15 minutes later she came into the kitchen and firmly announced that since most of her friends are boys, and that she loves to play sports with them, she was going to pretend that the facts I had just explained to her really did not exist. I tried so hard not to chuckle but on the inside I was dying. Ellie has to give a verbal report on Dr. Suess tomorrow in class. I am excited to go and listen to her pretending to be the great author. She has worked so hard at learning all the facts about Dr. Suess, and even borrowed my mascara to apply a scratchy looking beard. She has a blazer, white shirt, and a bow tie complete with black rimmed glasses. I love this age. My kids still think that I'm cool, and want to hang around me. I wouldn't change anything about it!!
The crying has gradually gotten a lot less noticeable and I am glad for that. I think that certain family and friends are not as concerned that I'm losing my mind anymore. I do still occasionally experience hot flashes which are AWFUL!!. However i have learned that when the tears start to fall, just let them come. The other day I cried because Mt. Timpanogos was so beautiful!! I have learned even more so not to let a single day go by without expressing your love for those around you, and to hug longer, talk more, listen harder, and love deeper. Thankful to all my friends and family who have been so patient with me through everything!!
This last month for me has been a strange one. More emotional than most previous months. I underwent a complete hysterectomy at the end of February, and coming to terms with emotions and feelings has been an ongoing battle for the last 6 weeks. It's kind of strange. I have felt completely out of place. I am, for the most part not an emotional person. Or at least, if I feel that I need time to cry, or break down, I will usually go into my room and have these tender moments late at night; in private, and not in front of anyone. I have always been a rather private person when it comes to expressing emotion, or showing any signs of weakness with emotion. The less vulnerable I feel in public the more confident I feel in private. Maybe that doesn't make much sense to many, but to me crying has always been a sign of weakness, and I have learned to hide it or stuff it away. A hysterectomy however has allowed these emotions to come forward and manifest themselves without my consent. I can be completely fine; feeling in total control of my emotions when the slightest tender moment will set me off like a water hose. I think that I have cried at every ASPCA and Adopt A Child commercial out there. Any kind of tender moment has been an open invitation for my feelings to manifest themselves in the form of tears. Those of you who have had children may understand these feelings. I remember after I had delivered Ellie, and I was at home with a newborn. Neighbors, friends, and family called on the phone to express congratulations, and simply ask if I needed anything. With all my might I would try and give a simple answer, but the hormones would take over and the tears would start to fall. Somehow I would muster the words, "No.....I'm fine." So with the hysterectomy has come the flood of emotions. Mostly the leakage of tears from my eyes or silly things. However, it did occur to me that one night as I was sobbing into my pillow for no real reason at all that perhaps I really did need to cry. Instead of trying to stop the tears from flowing I decided to let them come. More freely and openly that I had before. I must have cried for a good hour. When I was finished I honestly felt cleansed. I began to think. You know, it wasn't my fault that a hysterectomy at age 35 was necessary. I wouldn't have had to have dealt with this issue if it weren't for other health problems passed on without my consent. I had done nothing wrong to my body to have this operation. Maybe I needed to cry at the past that I had bee supressing. Maybe it was ok for me to be angry at those in my life who had made this choice for me. Cervical cancer may or may not have come at the early age of 35, but I certainly know that HIV running through my blood helped speed the process up. Maybe I needed to cry because if I was to ever marry, or be in a relationship again I would have to explain to that innocent man why they would need to take a pill everyday that in a sense is a poison to your body. Overall, maybe I just needed to cry. Cry for things that I had not cried for in such a long time. It was cleansing for my soul. It was refreshing, and although I had the awful headache that comes when one cries so much I really did feel better.
These last few weeks of school have been interesting. I can hardly believe that next year I will have a 6th grader. The fact that Olivia will be in 2nd grade doesn't seem to hit me as hard as Ellie in the 6th grade. We had the official "sex" talk the other night. I recall a lot of blank stares on her part as I tried to explain what happens between a man and a woman when they love each other and desire to have children. After about 15 minutes of talking, she replied, "Mom I have to process this, could you just leave and give me a minute?" Being a little floored, but at the same time wanting to respect her space I reluctantly left the room. About 15 minutes later she came into the kitchen and firmly announced that since most of her friends are boys, and that she loves to play sports with them, she was going to pretend that the facts I had just explained to her really did not exist. I tried so hard not to chuckle but on the inside I was dying. Ellie has to give a verbal report on Dr. Suess tomorrow in class. I am excited to go and listen to her pretending to be the great author. She has worked so hard at learning all the facts about Dr. Suess, and even borrowed my mascara to apply a scratchy looking beard. She has a blazer, white shirt, and a bow tie complete with black rimmed glasses. I love this age. My kids still think that I'm cool, and want to hang around me. I wouldn't change anything about it!!
The crying has gradually gotten a lot less noticeable and I am glad for that. I think that certain family and friends are not as concerned that I'm losing my mind anymore. I do still occasionally experience hot flashes which are AWFUL!!. However i have learned that when the tears start to fall, just let them come. The other day I cried because Mt. Timpanogos was so beautiful!! I have learned even more so not to let a single day go by without expressing your love for those around you, and to hug longer, talk more, listen harder, and love deeper. Thankful to all my friends and family who have been so patient with me through everything!!
Sunday, March 15, 2015
Chapter 14
Tonight as I write this entry I watch as the cursor bounces off the screen and stares at me. As if it's persuading me to express...push on, write on, express feelings from deep inside. I battle back and forth between the demons deep in my mind and the positive persuasive voices inside my soul wanting to shout only the positive when I know that deep, deep down is so much buried. Buried for years and years. Do I really want to dig it up? If I do, it will bring so many emotions, buried feelings, and memories back to the present. Things I have tried so hard to forget. Months and months of therapy that have helped me overcome the past only to drag it up to the surface. PTSD medications have wiped away many of the past demons, flashbacks, and dark times. But I feel strongly persuaded to go to the place where I have tried so hard to escape and never return to. It's a persuation that I cannot ignore.
The first year that I was separated I experienced many flashbacks and dark nightmares from which I would wake soaked to the skin with sweat from the reality of those nightmares. 2009-2010 I would have liked to have started my life anew. Fresh with vibes of a second chance running through my self, however, I was tormented with flashbacks and experiences that were awful......downright hellish. I brought many of my old things with me on the move out from my ex husband. Pictures, trinkets, and other things that decorated my home, particularly my bedroom from my married bedroom came along with me to this new apartment. A newness ran through my skin. Newness to leave the horrible past behind me. I never did expect that my own past would haunt me. Wake me in the night screaming with fear. At first I didn't know where this fear was coming from. Just pieces and parts from the past echoing in my dreary mind. Therapy would later bring out those nightmares and demons from my dark, dreary past. Many times in my apartment, with my babies down the hall did I wake from shaking terror nightmares drenched in sweat; remembering incidents of the past. Incidents that had occurred without my consent. Visions rather; blurry with many faces, bright lights, and familiar objects which sent me into a frenzy. Full panic attack mode. A place that I'm not sure how you get back to reality. How are you supposed to press on with these lingering demons chasing your thoughts and memory? I remember one night waking to feel nothing but numbness. Fervent tingling in my hands all the way up to my heart. I could hear my own heart beating in my head. I could feel it throughout my body. Even now as I express these feelings my heart rapidly beats quicker. Memories that I have wanted to put behind me. I can feel them overtake me. If I let them, they will take me back to the time when I was broken. When I was a victim. When I was weak and fragile. I don't want to be there ever again. It rips at me as I write this. To have my children know these things real is an awful reality. I am HIV positive. I cannot prove that I got this dibilitating disease from my ex because there were others there. I have been the joke of many, and I will never fully be able to erase other dark faces from my memory of different nights alone in the bed of strangers. I can hardly ask if my oldest sweet daughter remembers others in her parents bedroom? I am as vulnerable as I can get as I discuss this back and forth in my own mind. Memories of the past, rushed with the future and its uncertainty literally blind me. I often wonder.....am I broken forever? I have been raped. With only a few details clear I truly feel I can't express the story. I can't fully give it the closer it deserves because I can only remember few details. Medication has erased much of this, and my positive demeanor has pressed on past these gruel details from the past. This time was not me. This time was not my own self. I never gave consent to those faces from the past. Parts of my physical body I never gave to strangers. Laughter in the echos of my mind. I hate going there. Still to this day I feel that I will only express through tears and sadness to my girls what went on behind those closed doors. Different nights that summer. Overtaken and incapacitated chemically. I never gave consent. What trusted spouse does this to their partner? Who overtakes their boundaries and invites others there. There to that sacred place between husband and wife? I can't piece together full memories. Only bits and pieces. Images like clowns with strange men in my bedroom. I don't know their names. I don't know what they are doing there. I often myself if I am crazy? I sometimes feel downright crazy? Outside my head. Outside my own mind. But I know these things to be real. I know them to be my past. Part of me. Part of my story. Therefore I must press on. Press on and tell this story. Hopefully it touches others. Someone. Just one person who has become a victim to sexual assault. Sexual assault in marriage is real. It happens. Disease, sadness, rape, and victomology happens. These are all REAL subjects. I know there are many many women who have been impacted. Diagnosed with this disease. HIV or HIV related cancers. These are real. These are real life impacts. These things are my daily life. I take a pill each day that reminds me of this strong beating reality. Many other women do as well.
My medication costs are enormous. The mental scars are real and everlasting. Time is healing, however, each conversation, each thought from the past stirs up feelings from the past. I often wonder. Was this whole marriage of 10 years a dream? Was is fake. Did it really happen? Unfortunately it did. It left scars. It left impacts. It left deep, and sometimes dark impressions. More than anything, impressions of the opposite sex that I am working so intently at shaking. Believing that their are good men. Pure men. Men that really want to hold me dear. Men that hold women in a sacred place. Men that don't want something behind a good deed. Will I trust these men again? That's a good question. I ask myself this question daily. I really do. I want to grow old with someone. I want to be with someone. I want to experience grandchildren with someone. But if that man is not pure in heart, honest, and patient, I do not believe that I will meet this man. This is a thought that is fine with me. If I can't find the man who is the most patient, and whom endures the trials of Sara, accepts my past, loves my girls fully; fully in fact loves them as much or more than me....this man will not cross my path. If he doesn't.....I'm content. That's completely honest. I'm content in knowing that the only men in my life will be my Savior and my Heavenly Father. In fact it will be these men that will or will not send my way someone to hold my hand as I pass from this life to the next. If this man is not sent from my Heavenly Father I will not accept this precious gift of companionship. I will exit this life into the next single. A single woman with righteous desires. Not fully understanding her past, and the meaning as to "why" behind it, but knowing that there is a treasure brighter and richer than any other waiting for me as I enter into the arms of my Savior. I did not just come to this earth to endure pain. I did not just come to endure hardship. I did not just come here to endure a lifetime of sickness. Marked with a scarlet letter "A" on her chest. I did not come here to endure suffering. No, I came for a reason. A specific reason. A mother to two beautiful girls. Girls that are righteous and strong. I am proud to be their mother, and proud for them to be given to me. Motherhood is the calling most highest and honorable. If I wasn't to have these two precious spirits, I would not have been asked to bear them. Through hardship, torture, and hell the joy of motherhood came to me. It came to me in the time when I needed it most. To this day, ages 10 and 7 I am most proud of my work as a mother. I love these girls. They are worth the demons of the past. They are worth the abuse. They are worth EVERYTHING I have endured and more. I love them. I love them more than myself. I love them more than any man.
This has been the hardest entry for me so far. I have really had to let go of some private feelings. Some VERY private facts. As I close this blog entry I find myself asking some questions. "Do I trust men?" "No says me." Am I working on it? "Yes" Does that past haunt me? "More than anything else." Am I bitter when I take my daily anti-retro-viral? "Somedays" Am I working as an addict to push past the past? "Every single day." Does the thought of using pain killers and alcohol to escape the past take over my mind? "Every Day." It's a constant struggle. But I remember those sweet girls who have been sent to me as the positive. Positive out of a very negative situation. They are the lights each day when I wake. They are my sunrise and my sunset. I live for them. They make me happy and at the same time drive me insain. I know with them I can't go wrong. I only want the very best in their lives. Sometimes, honestly, that means a half broken mother. But, at half broken this mother knows that Christ is her answer. More than anything else. Christ has not left her side. He KNOWS what it is like to be in the mind of Sara. He knows what it is like to suffer what I have suffered. HE knows the desires of my heart. He knows the yearns of my spirit and soul.
Only HE knows that the end of the day I can lay down my burdens at his feet. He has felt my pain. He has felt my tears on his cheeks. He has felt my sobs. HE has felt my past!! He has been there for me in the dark and the light. Most important to me is the dark. He has been there, holding my hand as I have felt the realization of rape and abuse. He has brought me two precious girls from the filth to the light. Oh this entry is hard for me. I hope that many will be able to connect with what I have spoken, and not so much with what I have not said outright. It is so hard for me to say certain things out loud. This entry is difficult. It is hard. However I have felt pressed to share. I was a victim. I was drugged. I was raped. I never gave consent.
But there is hope. There is hope and love through everything. There is love, peace, and salvation through my Savior. I have endured many HARD things!! I have done this with HIS understanding. I know that many out there can as well. Lay your burdens at his feet. Pray to HIM. Plead with him in the worst times and he will save you. He will reach out his hand and deliver you from the suffering you are enduring. I hope you have my love. I hope I have helped.
The first year that I was separated I experienced many flashbacks and dark nightmares from which I would wake soaked to the skin with sweat from the reality of those nightmares. 2009-2010 I would have liked to have started my life anew. Fresh with vibes of a second chance running through my self, however, I was tormented with flashbacks and experiences that were awful......downright hellish. I brought many of my old things with me on the move out from my ex husband. Pictures, trinkets, and other things that decorated my home, particularly my bedroom from my married bedroom came along with me to this new apartment. A newness ran through my skin. Newness to leave the horrible past behind me. I never did expect that my own past would haunt me. Wake me in the night screaming with fear. At first I didn't know where this fear was coming from. Just pieces and parts from the past echoing in my dreary mind. Therapy would later bring out those nightmares and demons from my dark, dreary past. Many times in my apartment, with my babies down the hall did I wake from shaking terror nightmares drenched in sweat; remembering incidents of the past. Incidents that had occurred without my consent. Visions rather; blurry with many faces, bright lights, and familiar objects which sent me into a frenzy. Full panic attack mode. A place that I'm not sure how you get back to reality. How are you supposed to press on with these lingering demons chasing your thoughts and memory? I remember one night waking to feel nothing but numbness. Fervent tingling in my hands all the way up to my heart. I could hear my own heart beating in my head. I could feel it throughout my body. Even now as I express these feelings my heart rapidly beats quicker. Memories that I have wanted to put behind me. I can feel them overtake me. If I let them, they will take me back to the time when I was broken. When I was a victim. When I was weak and fragile. I don't want to be there ever again. It rips at me as I write this. To have my children know these things real is an awful reality. I am HIV positive. I cannot prove that I got this dibilitating disease from my ex because there were others there. I have been the joke of many, and I will never fully be able to erase other dark faces from my memory of different nights alone in the bed of strangers. I can hardly ask if my oldest sweet daughter remembers others in her parents bedroom? I am as vulnerable as I can get as I discuss this back and forth in my own mind. Memories of the past, rushed with the future and its uncertainty literally blind me. I often wonder.....am I broken forever? I have been raped. With only a few details clear I truly feel I can't express the story. I can't fully give it the closer it deserves because I can only remember few details. Medication has erased much of this, and my positive demeanor has pressed on past these gruel details from the past. This time was not me. This time was not my own self. I never gave consent to those faces from the past. Parts of my physical body I never gave to strangers. Laughter in the echos of my mind. I hate going there. Still to this day I feel that I will only express through tears and sadness to my girls what went on behind those closed doors. Different nights that summer. Overtaken and incapacitated chemically. I never gave consent. What trusted spouse does this to their partner? Who overtakes their boundaries and invites others there. There to that sacred place between husband and wife? I can't piece together full memories. Only bits and pieces. Images like clowns with strange men in my bedroom. I don't know their names. I don't know what they are doing there. I often myself if I am crazy? I sometimes feel downright crazy? Outside my head. Outside my own mind. But I know these things to be real. I know them to be my past. Part of me. Part of my story. Therefore I must press on. Press on and tell this story. Hopefully it touches others. Someone. Just one person who has become a victim to sexual assault. Sexual assault in marriage is real. It happens. Disease, sadness, rape, and victomology happens. These are all REAL subjects. I know there are many many women who have been impacted. Diagnosed with this disease. HIV or HIV related cancers. These are real. These are real life impacts. These things are my daily life. I take a pill each day that reminds me of this strong beating reality. Many other women do as well.
My medication costs are enormous. The mental scars are real and everlasting. Time is healing, however, each conversation, each thought from the past stirs up feelings from the past. I often wonder. Was this whole marriage of 10 years a dream? Was is fake. Did it really happen? Unfortunately it did. It left scars. It left impacts. It left deep, and sometimes dark impressions. More than anything, impressions of the opposite sex that I am working so intently at shaking. Believing that their are good men. Pure men. Men that really want to hold me dear. Men that hold women in a sacred place. Men that don't want something behind a good deed. Will I trust these men again? That's a good question. I ask myself this question daily. I really do. I want to grow old with someone. I want to be with someone. I want to experience grandchildren with someone. But if that man is not pure in heart, honest, and patient, I do not believe that I will meet this man. This is a thought that is fine with me. If I can't find the man who is the most patient, and whom endures the trials of Sara, accepts my past, loves my girls fully; fully in fact loves them as much or more than me....this man will not cross my path. If he doesn't.....I'm content. That's completely honest. I'm content in knowing that the only men in my life will be my Savior and my Heavenly Father. In fact it will be these men that will or will not send my way someone to hold my hand as I pass from this life to the next. If this man is not sent from my Heavenly Father I will not accept this precious gift of companionship. I will exit this life into the next single. A single woman with righteous desires. Not fully understanding her past, and the meaning as to "why" behind it, but knowing that there is a treasure brighter and richer than any other waiting for me as I enter into the arms of my Savior. I did not just come to this earth to endure pain. I did not just come to endure hardship. I did not just come here to endure a lifetime of sickness. Marked with a scarlet letter "A" on her chest. I did not come here to endure suffering. No, I came for a reason. A specific reason. A mother to two beautiful girls. Girls that are righteous and strong. I am proud to be their mother, and proud for them to be given to me. Motherhood is the calling most highest and honorable. If I wasn't to have these two precious spirits, I would not have been asked to bear them. Through hardship, torture, and hell the joy of motherhood came to me. It came to me in the time when I needed it most. To this day, ages 10 and 7 I am most proud of my work as a mother. I love these girls. They are worth the demons of the past. They are worth the abuse. They are worth EVERYTHING I have endured and more. I love them. I love them more than myself. I love them more than any man.
This has been the hardest entry for me so far. I have really had to let go of some private feelings. Some VERY private facts. As I close this blog entry I find myself asking some questions. "Do I trust men?" "No says me." Am I working on it? "Yes" Does that past haunt me? "More than anything else." Am I bitter when I take my daily anti-retro-viral? "Somedays" Am I working as an addict to push past the past? "Every single day." Does the thought of using pain killers and alcohol to escape the past take over my mind? "Every Day." It's a constant struggle. But I remember those sweet girls who have been sent to me as the positive. Positive out of a very negative situation. They are the lights each day when I wake. They are my sunrise and my sunset. I live for them. They make me happy and at the same time drive me insain. I know with them I can't go wrong. I only want the very best in their lives. Sometimes, honestly, that means a half broken mother. But, at half broken this mother knows that Christ is her answer. More than anything else. Christ has not left her side. He KNOWS what it is like to be in the mind of Sara. He knows what it is like to suffer what I have suffered. HE knows the desires of my heart. He knows the yearns of my spirit and soul.
Only HE knows that the end of the day I can lay down my burdens at his feet. He has felt my pain. He has felt my tears on his cheeks. He has felt my sobs. HE has felt my past!! He has been there for me in the dark and the light. Most important to me is the dark. He has been there, holding my hand as I have felt the realization of rape and abuse. He has brought me two precious girls from the filth to the light. Oh this entry is hard for me. I hope that many will be able to connect with what I have spoken, and not so much with what I have not said outright. It is so hard for me to say certain things out loud. This entry is difficult. It is hard. However I have felt pressed to share. I was a victim. I was drugged. I was raped. I never gave consent.
But there is hope. There is hope and love through everything. There is love, peace, and salvation through my Savior. I have endured many HARD things!! I have done this with HIS understanding. I know that many out there can as well. Lay your burdens at his feet. Pray to HIM. Plead with him in the worst times and he will save you. He will reach out his hand and deliver you from the suffering you are enduring. I hope you have my love. I hope I have helped.
Sunday, January 18, 2015
Chapter 13
Well I realize that I have been slacking with writing things down this past month. It's amazing how fast the holiday season rushes by us. One minute you're wrapping presents for under the tree, and the next you're constantly correcting the year on forms or checks that you write. It always takes me a while to get used to writing the new year (ex. 2014 to 2015) Seems like at least until March white out is a constant useful tool in my home. It's really incredible when you think about it how fast time really does fly. The other day Ellie, my 10 year old, said, "you know Mom in 5 years I'll be driving." I'm not exactly sure why, but that statement hit me like a ton of bricks. In fact, if I double her time here on earth she will be 20 before I know it. It makes a whirlwind of emotions stir inside me. Anyone who knows me knows that I hate it when I am unable to control things. (I think that this is a little of where my anxiety comes from) Bottom line.....kids grow up too fast, and they are out of the house and on their own before we even realize what has happened. We're still wondering what happened to 1st and 2nd grade and their picking out a prom dress!! Yikes!!
So otherwise than another passing too quickly I feel extremely blessed. We have a roof over our heads, food on the table, clothes to wear, Jesus in our lives, good friends, basically good health, and nothing but adventure lies ahead for my little family. I have often wondered if and when a time is right to start dating again. You know, funny thing, I pray about it (the dating that is) and I just always ask to know when the time is right for me to seek out another man to be in not only my life, but the lives of my girls. I never really feel an answer to this prayer. I think mostly because I know that deep inside I am not ready to date. Despite the loneliness and the wish to have someone to share my ups and downs I think that I really have many trust issues to work through before that time comes for me in my life. It's funny because my girls have asked for a Dad to have at home. One who lives with them full time. Someone who will come to their games, performances, and school activities. I wish nothing more than to have someone to share with all the ups and downs of life, however, when I know that the main thing I want from a man is his paycheck, and occasional intimacy, I can safely say I still do not trust many men.
We had a wonderful Christmas! We spent a lot of time doing things together as a family. Sledding, building snowmen, and being thankful for all our blessings. My girls and I love to read Christmas books, make cookies for Santa, see temple square, and listen to holiday tunes in our home. After this year, I can safely say that I enjoy my girls for the little people they are becoming. I no longer feel I have to do EVERYTHING for them. They are able to help in all the processes of every day activities! I am totally enjoying ages 10 and 7. We made several gifts and took them to less fortunate. We wrapped 30 presents and took them to Primary Children's Oncology ward, and we even gathered clothing for men at the downtown Mens Shelter in Salt Lake City. We cooked and took in Thanksgiving dinner to a man who has full blown AIDS and saw tears in his eyes as he was so grateful for the food and love on that particular day of thanks!! I hope more than anything I am able to leave my girls with a legacy of service. "Do unto others as you would have done unto you." "Pray for those who despise you." "Pray for your enemies." "Love thy neighbor as thyself." I hope they realize that big fancy houses, cars, and money do no make for happiness. Service, smiles put on those of others, and a burning feeling that comes inside when you bless the life of another human being are what matter most.
This past week has been a little bit of a rough one for us. One Tuesday I took my mom (my best friend) to a doctor's appointment for her feet. She has diabetes and has had neuropathy in her legs and feet for years. She spent some time last year in an assisted living facility after surgery on one of her diabetic ulcers. She has healed well, and we have felt blessed. However, this last doctors appointment we learned that she had two ulcers underneath some calises on the bottom of her feet. He doctor told her that she needed to stay completely off her feet for at least 6 weeks. This is extremely hard to do when you live alone. Well we also learned she has infection in those ulcers and it has spread into her blood. So home health care comes every day and gives medication through a pic line in her arm. Her spirits are good, and feel confident that if she follows the doctors orders she will be back to herself in no time. On Wednesday I had a doctors appointment with my OBGYN. I was diagnosed with the virus HPV (different than HIV) a few years ago, and I knew that the strand of HPV I carried was the strand that can lead to cervical cancer. This last Wednesday I learned as I looked at an ultrasound that I did in fact have cancer again. This time in my cervix and uterus. I was shocked and dumbfounded. You see I have been in for exams every 6 months for the last 2 years and nothing. The immediate order was a complete hysterectomy. This procedure should take place within the next couple weeks, and then after the surgery we shall determine the treatment options. Blood work, ultrasounds, and biopsies have been done. This Wednesday I will meet with the surgeon and hopefully have a date for a complete hysterectomy.
I am so blessed! I am so blessed to have 2 daughters whom I love more that my own life itself. They are my jewels and the light of my life. They make me so happy each day, and they are 2 prizes that I will always continue to fight for. I hope that those who are in my past will be forgiving. I know that I have had to become extremely forgiving for wrong doings against me. I believe that humanity is good, and that there is more good on this earth than bad. I know that as long as I keep Christ as the center of my home, and first in my life, all will be well. Til next time......
So otherwise than another passing too quickly I feel extremely blessed. We have a roof over our heads, food on the table, clothes to wear, Jesus in our lives, good friends, basically good health, and nothing but adventure lies ahead for my little family. I have often wondered if and when a time is right to start dating again. You know, funny thing, I pray about it (the dating that is) and I just always ask to know when the time is right for me to seek out another man to be in not only my life, but the lives of my girls. I never really feel an answer to this prayer. I think mostly because I know that deep inside I am not ready to date. Despite the loneliness and the wish to have someone to share my ups and downs I think that I really have many trust issues to work through before that time comes for me in my life. It's funny because my girls have asked for a Dad to have at home. One who lives with them full time. Someone who will come to their games, performances, and school activities. I wish nothing more than to have someone to share with all the ups and downs of life, however, when I know that the main thing I want from a man is his paycheck, and occasional intimacy, I can safely say I still do not trust many men.
We had a wonderful Christmas! We spent a lot of time doing things together as a family. Sledding, building snowmen, and being thankful for all our blessings. My girls and I love to read Christmas books, make cookies for Santa, see temple square, and listen to holiday tunes in our home. After this year, I can safely say that I enjoy my girls for the little people they are becoming. I no longer feel I have to do EVERYTHING for them. They are able to help in all the processes of every day activities! I am totally enjoying ages 10 and 7. We made several gifts and took them to less fortunate. We wrapped 30 presents and took them to Primary Children's Oncology ward, and we even gathered clothing for men at the downtown Mens Shelter in Salt Lake City. We cooked and took in Thanksgiving dinner to a man who has full blown AIDS and saw tears in his eyes as he was so grateful for the food and love on that particular day of thanks!! I hope more than anything I am able to leave my girls with a legacy of service. "Do unto others as you would have done unto you." "Pray for those who despise you." "Pray for your enemies." "Love thy neighbor as thyself." I hope they realize that big fancy houses, cars, and money do no make for happiness. Service, smiles put on those of others, and a burning feeling that comes inside when you bless the life of another human being are what matter most.
This past week has been a little bit of a rough one for us. One Tuesday I took my mom (my best friend) to a doctor's appointment for her feet. She has diabetes and has had neuropathy in her legs and feet for years. She spent some time last year in an assisted living facility after surgery on one of her diabetic ulcers. She has healed well, and we have felt blessed. However, this last doctors appointment we learned that she had two ulcers underneath some calises on the bottom of her feet. He doctor told her that she needed to stay completely off her feet for at least 6 weeks. This is extremely hard to do when you live alone. Well we also learned she has infection in those ulcers and it has spread into her blood. So home health care comes every day and gives medication through a pic line in her arm. Her spirits are good, and feel confident that if she follows the doctors orders she will be back to herself in no time. On Wednesday I had a doctors appointment with my OBGYN. I was diagnosed with the virus HPV (different than HIV) a few years ago, and I knew that the strand of HPV I carried was the strand that can lead to cervical cancer. This last Wednesday I learned as I looked at an ultrasound that I did in fact have cancer again. This time in my cervix and uterus. I was shocked and dumbfounded. You see I have been in for exams every 6 months for the last 2 years and nothing. The immediate order was a complete hysterectomy. This procedure should take place within the next couple weeks, and then after the surgery we shall determine the treatment options. Blood work, ultrasounds, and biopsies have been done. This Wednesday I will meet with the surgeon and hopefully have a date for a complete hysterectomy.
I am so blessed! I am so blessed to have 2 daughters whom I love more that my own life itself. They are my jewels and the light of my life. They make me so happy each day, and they are 2 prizes that I will always continue to fight for. I hope that those who are in my past will be forgiving. I know that I have had to become extremely forgiving for wrong doings against me. I believe that humanity is good, and that there is more good on this earth than bad. I know that as long as I keep Christ as the center of my home, and first in my life, all will be well. Til next time......
Wednesday, December 10, 2014
Chapter 12
Keeping a journal, or in this case, a blog is completely about being honest. When I was a little girl and I wrote things down in my "diary" I did so with the thought in mind that no one would ever read the secrets that filled the pages of my special book. I suppose it is a little different with a blog. The public can read what I type here, and although I am 90% sure that I am comfortable with that fact, I still know that there are some who may read what I write and choose to pass judgement. To those people I am truly sorry if you feel the need to judge my actions and behavior, but writing is extremely therapeutic for me, so as long I feel the need to voice my opinion in order to help me move on and stay positive I will continue to write for me and my girls.
Going out on a limb here and making a bold statement that has recently come to light in my mind very strongly. I do not trust men. I wish that I did. I wish that I had a better feeling when I was around them. It's difficult to explain...it really is, but my anxieties rise through the roof something terrible when I am around men. My Father was a wonderful example to me. We weren't emotionally close. He grew up in the depression, and didn't really speak very often, but there was a reverence about him. At least to me, the youngest, I knew for certain that he loved me and that he always had my best interest at heart. I have four brothers. Again, our age span is so great that we didn't really know each other very well. I have somewhat of a relationship with three of them now. My one brother lives out of state, and has done since I was 18. There is such a generation gap between us all that even though I love them dearly I do not feel close to them.
I felt differently about my husband when I first met him. He was someone I could talk to. We could talk together for hours, and it really didn't matter what the subject was. Just the fact that we talked and got along was wonderful to me. Looking back now however, I see how this was more like a friendship rather than a romance, but I enjoyed being around him and spending time in his company. After our marriage and time passed, this trust began to dimmer. I no longer felt a sense of "ease" in his presence but my heart would begin to race when I knew it was time for him to come home from work. When I say it would race, it wasn't in a good way. I hurried to make the house look perfect, make myself look beautiful, and make sure that from the time he came through the door all my attention was focused on him and "his" day.
Time has passed and my heart has done a lot of healing as well as forgiving, however I am finding that there is still much I need to forgive. Not every man wants something "more" than what he expresses, and not every man wishes to use me for something. However on the few dates that I have been on over the last several years I can't help but sink into a restaurant booth and thinking to myself. "What does this man REALLY want." Why is he really telling me I'm attractive? What other motives does he have? It makes me extremely nervous when a man pays me a compliment. Especially one about my appearance. Immediately I begin to wonder what he feels I "owe" him, or what other things does this person have in mind. I question his job, his integrity, finances, love of children, and above all....I begin to question, "What in the world does this man want from me?" I have been fooled in the past by a fast talker and I refuse to let those strong brick walls down just to let my heart crumble again.
Rape is a strong and harsh word. It's kind of one of those words that you whisper while out in public. Like if you say it quiet enough it didn't really happen. I read recently that one in every three women will be raped in their lifetime. One in every three women will also experience cancer. Women have some pretty crappy odds. Being a victim of rape is something that I'm not sure you ever get over. The flashbacks, the questions, and the alternative scenarios which play out in the heads of victims don't ever really go away. The only way to deal with rape is to talk about it, however there is shame, remorse, and disbelief that "you really didn't do anything wrong" stays with you. Many times just after my second daughter was born I can recall waking with a strong headache. I always assumed it was because I was no getting enough sleep with a new baby. I believe that I have always been a bit of an early sleeper. Having two little kids you learn to sleep when they go to be, so many nights I remember being fast asleep by 9 o'clock. Since my ex would rarely get home before 7 or 8 at night he was always so good to make me a diet coke filled to the brim of the glass with lots of ice. It was a nightly routine for me. I loved carrying it in front of the tv and relaxing until I would head up to bed. However some nights sleep were often more disturbed than others. I would wake around 4 to feed the baby with the most awful headaches. Not only did my head pound, but I would find my pajamas strung across the floor of our bedroom. This wasn't something every night so naturally I assumed that I had gotten hot during the night and taken them off while sleeping.
This went on for several months. Again, not every night, but it began to happen often enough that I just started sleeping only in garments. Even after this began things weren't right. Clothes weren't on so that I felt dressed completely. I noticed a few times bruises. I made excuses that they must have come from the gym. I did work out, and I did bruise easily. This is not easy for me to talk about. As I sit here I even wonder whether or not I want to type. Sometimes it's easier to stuff memories and feelings back so you don't remember them. So many things I remember, but it has taken years to get those memories back. Once they're back I do nothing but wish they'd go away.
In my first apartment where I lived with my girls they were very young. Ellie was 4 and Olivia was only 16 months. It was here where my mind began to piece things together. Flashbacks began to come so strongly. Flashbacks when I would look at a certain picture on my bedroom wall. I woke up so many nights with faces staring at me. They were faces of men I did not know. I could hear laughter. I could hear jokes. I could feel pressure, and I could see myself there. The only way I know how to describe these times is this.....I found these words written down in a journal from this time and I think it describes it well.
"Woke up completely drenched in sweat again tonight. It's 4:06 on the clock and both girls are here in my bed. My chest is pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. I have got to get rid of that candle holder on the wall tomorrow. It's in my nightmare and the wax keeps dripping off of it in my dreams. I hear Drew in my dream. His face is close to mine and he's laughing at me. My ankles feel like they want to kick but they are tied with something. It's an awful horrifying dream. I keep looking at our closet. I feel eyes watching me, and I scream out to those eyes but nobody comes. Pretty soon my arms are held down and I'm in pain. It's a nightmare!!! I know there are people there besides me and Drew, but they stand at the end of my bed and do nothing. I don't know....I feel sick to my stomach. These nightmares keep happening over and over."
Only a few weeks after this experience I was able to grasp a firm grip on what had happened to me over several years. The details of this are still so difficult for me to talk about. I really am trying to deal with the evil that lies in mankind. However, there is so much good that also lies in those people on earth. I try hard to make that my focus and strive to become stronger. I would much rather laugh than cry, however I am a firm believer that crying is necessary at times. When I cry into my pillow (which I have done often) I always offer prayer, and I KNOW without a doubt that my Heavenly Father hears those prayers. I feel arms wrapped around me. As I continue to work on trusting men in my daily life, I remind myself often that there are wonderful men in my family who are great examples of goodness. It is something I am working on. I don't want to spend the rest of my life alone and bitter at every male I meet. I want and wish to find love again one day. If I don't here in this life, than I know I will in the next life. I believe more than ever my Heavenly Father is in control of that area of my life. I'm honest enough to know that I'm not ready to give my heart away just yet, but perhaps in the future I'll be ready to try again to give it to someone special.
Saturday, December 6, 2014
Chapter 11
Well we can't really be human unless we experience ALL emotions. Not just the good ones. Today I am a little saddened, and my heart feels a little heavy. Mostly these deep feelings are nothing more than selfish tangents. Feelings that only take into play my own thoughts, self happiness, and overall... "but what about what's best for me?" questions. Many people know that I came into the world as a "little surprise." Well ok, surprise, accident, fibroid growth...whatever you want to call it. My mom was 47 when she realized that she wasn't actually going through menopause, but in fact she was four months pregnant with a baby. A fourteen year age difference between he youngest son and myself. As a matter of fact her second son, Bob, was graduating BYU with a wife of his own, and a baby on the way! My niece, who would come to earth three weeks ahead of me, making the oldest grandchild of Bruce and Lynn Passey older than their youngest child. Only in Utah right??
So fast forward several years until today. My sweet mother is a ripe age of 82. I love her wisdom. I still call her everyday. She is my sounding board when I need to vent, and my arms of love when I need to cry. My dad passed away in 2009 just 7 months after I separated, and 6 months before I was diagnosed HIV positive. I am absolutely convinced that the Lord took him home when he needed to. His passing was sudden, but he went quickly and didn't suffer. Events such as death of a parent are extremely surreal. To me it's like I was outside my own body. I could see myself at the hospital, sitting by my father at his bedside, and even holding his hand; however, it doesn't seem as though things are really happening. It seems as though it's an awful dream. A nightmare, in fact, where I will wake up any second and realize that my dad has not died. He is still as strong as ever. One minute you're talking about cancer treatment, then death, then the funeral, obituary, etc. It seems like time passes but at the same time it's standing still. One minute I'm talking to my dad as he's helping me shovel my driveway, then the next I'm holding his hand as the ventilator stops. I understand that death is natural, necessary, and even at times the best thing, but what about us left behind?? My mom is in basically good health. Today I saw her extremely tired however, and it struck me. She had been wrapping all her families Christmas presents. She was so tired. As I listened to her explain that her fingers didn't move as they used to, her arms were tired from wrapping and lifting gifts, and her vocal worries about whether or not her family really even cared whether or not she gave them presents I became overcome. This woman, my "other", seemed exhausted. For several moments I wondered if her grandchildren, children, and great grand children really knew how much she was concerned for their happiness at Christmas? She really thinks about each and every person in her family, and she wants nothing more than the best present for each member. I saw what it does to her physically, mentally, and emotionally, and for several minutes I thought, "is this worth it?" I realized for the first time today I didn't know exactly how much time I would have my sweet mommy. Yes, she is in basically good health. Her heart is strong, her lungs are strong, and her mind is still there. For these things I count my blessings, but she looked so tired today. I have seen that kind of tired before. In fact, I will go as far as to say I have been that tired before, and it's a scary thing.
I am feeling selfish tonight, and if I can be honest a little angry. I miss having a partner. My mom is a wonderful person. She really is. She is my best friend, and without a doubt the person I go to whenever I have news to share. Good news, bad, exciting, or sad. She is the first phone call I make to talk about my day. Being 14 years apart from my next sibling I do not have close relationships with my brothers or my sister. I cannot call them and vent to them about my day. Mainly because they have their own kids (who are my own generation) and they are the sounding boards for their own children. we just seem to have nothing in common. Our interests are different. There is a generation gap between my siblings and I, and although I love them dearly there will always be this bridge between us that is just difficult to cross. My siblings, many of them, have a spouse that is their sounding board. That person is their "other." You know, the one you go to when you've had a bad day, or maybe it's a good day. Someone to share inside jokes with. Someone to rant and rave at. Someone that will just listen when you need to cry. For me, at least the last several years has been my mother. I worry about when she is gone. I hope that loneliness will not overcome me. For I do not have someone to talk to at night. I don't have that partner to help me with dinner, homework, baths, or all other duties that a family has. To be quite frank....I do not want a man around right now. I can think of a couple reasons why I would like to be married, but none of those reasons are healthy so for now I guess I continue on single. I miss the help with the family, but I have been so scorned that I don't feel that my trust radar is anywhere near on target yet. That will take some serious time. Time that I can't put a limit on.
I often worry about how much I take for granted. Time is number one on my list of things most precious. Don't ever take time for granted. Don't put off until tomorrow what can be done today. I would like to add to that saying. Don't put off until tomorrow what can be done or said today. Tell those around you how much you love them. Make sure they know it. Make sure that you hug longer and more often. Don't be ashamed or worried that you might look like a fool by expressing your feelings out loud or to someone you love. Time is not something to take for granted. In a moment things can be different. People you love can be gone and it will be too late to say what you need to say. Forgive!!!! For goodness sake....are you perfect???? If we were perfect, at least in my opinion, we would not be on this earth anymore. We would be taken back up to heaven to live with our Savior. So, when someone wrongs you, hurts you, makes you sad, angry, or upset....no matter how hard it is.... try to work on a way to forgive them and move on. If you have not walked in someone else's shoes are you truly able to pass judgement on them?? Be a peacemaker, and say "I'm sorry" much more often than you already do. Don't worry about things that are out of your control. Control the things that you can change. Yes, I will be the first to admit that I am a bit selfish in saying that I wish I had a mother who was 52 instead of 82. I wish my dad were still alive. I wish my siblings were closer in my age; that we could raise our children together instead of a generation apart. I wish my nieces and nephews lived closer. I wish, I wish, I wish.......but my mother knows how much I love her. I've told her. I tell her often. My dad knew before he died that I was grateful to him for life. I was thankful he showed me how to pay it forward and press on even in hard times. I am thankful for forgiveness. Both given to me and forgiveness I have given. I tell my friend often that I love them. That I am thankful for them in my life. I hope that I never put off something I can say today. I love you mom!
So fast forward several years until today. My sweet mother is a ripe age of 82. I love her wisdom. I still call her everyday. She is my sounding board when I need to vent, and my arms of love when I need to cry. My dad passed away in 2009 just 7 months after I separated, and 6 months before I was diagnosed HIV positive. I am absolutely convinced that the Lord took him home when he needed to. His passing was sudden, but he went quickly and didn't suffer. Events such as death of a parent are extremely surreal. To me it's like I was outside my own body. I could see myself at the hospital, sitting by my father at his bedside, and even holding his hand; however, it doesn't seem as though things are really happening. It seems as though it's an awful dream. A nightmare, in fact, where I will wake up any second and realize that my dad has not died. He is still as strong as ever. One minute you're talking about cancer treatment, then death, then the funeral, obituary, etc. It seems like time passes but at the same time it's standing still. One minute I'm talking to my dad as he's helping me shovel my driveway, then the next I'm holding his hand as the ventilator stops. I understand that death is natural, necessary, and even at times the best thing, but what about us left behind?? My mom is in basically good health. Today I saw her extremely tired however, and it struck me. She had been wrapping all her families Christmas presents. She was so tired. As I listened to her explain that her fingers didn't move as they used to, her arms were tired from wrapping and lifting gifts, and her vocal worries about whether or not her family really even cared whether or not she gave them presents I became overcome. This woman, my "other", seemed exhausted. For several moments I wondered if her grandchildren, children, and great grand children really knew how much she was concerned for their happiness at Christmas? She really thinks about each and every person in her family, and she wants nothing more than the best present for each member. I saw what it does to her physically, mentally, and emotionally, and for several minutes I thought, "is this worth it?" I realized for the first time today I didn't know exactly how much time I would have my sweet mommy. Yes, she is in basically good health. Her heart is strong, her lungs are strong, and her mind is still there. For these things I count my blessings, but she looked so tired today. I have seen that kind of tired before. In fact, I will go as far as to say I have been that tired before, and it's a scary thing.
I am feeling selfish tonight, and if I can be honest a little angry. I miss having a partner. My mom is a wonderful person. She really is. She is my best friend, and without a doubt the person I go to whenever I have news to share. Good news, bad, exciting, or sad. She is the first phone call I make to talk about my day. Being 14 years apart from my next sibling I do not have close relationships with my brothers or my sister. I cannot call them and vent to them about my day. Mainly because they have their own kids (who are my own generation) and they are the sounding boards for their own children. we just seem to have nothing in common. Our interests are different. There is a generation gap between my siblings and I, and although I love them dearly there will always be this bridge between us that is just difficult to cross. My siblings, many of them, have a spouse that is their sounding board. That person is their "other." You know, the one you go to when you've had a bad day, or maybe it's a good day. Someone to share inside jokes with. Someone to rant and rave at. Someone that will just listen when you need to cry. For me, at least the last several years has been my mother. I worry about when she is gone. I hope that loneliness will not overcome me. For I do not have someone to talk to at night. I don't have that partner to help me with dinner, homework, baths, or all other duties that a family has. To be quite frank....I do not want a man around right now. I can think of a couple reasons why I would like to be married, but none of those reasons are healthy so for now I guess I continue on single. I miss the help with the family, but I have been so scorned that I don't feel that my trust radar is anywhere near on target yet. That will take some serious time. Time that I can't put a limit on.
I often worry about how much I take for granted. Time is number one on my list of things most precious. Don't ever take time for granted. Don't put off until tomorrow what can be done today. I would like to add to that saying. Don't put off until tomorrow what can be done or said today. Tell those around you how much you love them. Make sure they know it. Make sure that you hug longer and more often. Don't be ashamed or worried that you might look like a fool by expressing your feelings out loud or to someone you love. Time is not something to take for granted. In a moment things can be different. People you love can be gone and it will be too late to say what you need to say. Forgive!!!! For goodness sake....are you perfect???? If we were perfect, at least in my opinion, we would not be on this earth anymore. We would be taken back up to heaven to live with our Savior. So, when someone wrongs you, hurts you, makes you sad, angry, or upset....no matter how hard it is.... try to work on a way to forgive them and move on. If you have not walked in someone else's shoes are you truly able to pass judgement on them?? Be a peacemaker, and say "I'm sorry" much more often than you already do. Don't worry about things that are out of your control. Control the things that you can change. Yes, I will be the first to admit that I am a bit selfish in saying that I wish I had a mother who was 52 instead of 82. I wish my dad were still alive. I wish my siblings were closer in my age; that we could raise our children together instead of a generation apart. I wish my nieces and nephews lived closer. I wish, I wish, I wish.......but my mother knows how much I love her. I've told her. I tell her often. My dad knew before he died that I was grateful to him for life. I was thankful he showed me how to pay it forward and press on even in hard times. I am thankful for forgiveness. Both given to me and forgiveness I have given. I tell my friend often that I love them. That I am thankful for them in my life. I hope that I never put off something I can say today. I love you mom!
Monday, November 10, 2014
Chapter 10
Today I was able to spend some alone time in the mountains with my journal. It was an exceptionally nice November day, and the colors of Fall were everywhere. Although I don't like the cold at all, there was something exciting at seeing the skiffs of snow on the tops of the mountains in Park City and Deere Valley. I love the mountains with all my heart! I think I've had more tears of overwhelming joy drip down my cheeks while hiking and spending time in the mountains than I can count. There is something that stirs up inside of me whenever I wander through the woods that makes me feel "at home." I feel love, joy, peace, and an overwhelming sense of happiness in nature that literally makes me cry at times. So today I was happy to have a few hours to write my thoughts and feelings down in my journal with my diet coke and bask in the warmth I felt inside and out.
As I wrote my feelings down I paused several times and thought about certain struggles in my life at this time. I said some prayers to my Heavenly Father, and I poured out my heart and soul on paper and in words.
When I first divorced I was relieved to be alone. The nightmares that I had been having while married were still going on even after I was divorced, but they continued in a different way. They weren't as up close and "in my face." I no longer was in the same house, and I didn't have to tip toe around walking on eggshells with the looming elephant in the room, so I did have moments of calmness and peace, however my mind always seemed to be anywhere but in a calm place. When I say nightmares I don't mean literally; just figuratively speaking. I found it very difficult however to be alone when my kids were with their dad. I was uncomfortable in my own skin. Not having them meant that I could relax, however it also meant that my mind was free to wander. Daily routines with children are able to help keep your mind busy, however it can also be a catch 22 because my anxiety levels seemed to shoot through the roof when my girls were home. Feeling like I needed to meditate on what to do next in my crumbling marriage, but having two noisy little ones distracting that concentration proved to be more than I could handle at times. However, when your kids are gone with their father for the weekend, it's like a limb is missing. The only way I can describe it is that you feel like you want your kids gone so you can think and figure out "life", but then when they're gone all you do is think, and think, and think, and think, and think whether good or bad, and too much thinking when your life is upside down can be a very bad thing. Too much pondering on the negative, especially alone, only leads to despair, depression, and dark thoughts.
This tee-tor totter relationship with myself went back and forth for a long time. Coming home to an empty house is almost as lonely at times as living with someone who doesn't want anything to do with you. It took me a long while to be "ok" with myself alone. Feeling as though I was enough too time. It took a small eternity to be alone in my house without any distractions. For a long time the tv had to be on all the time to keep me company. If it wasn't the tv then it was the radio, but as time went on I found that meditation, in a healthy form, can be healing and peaceful. I began to hike or go for walks. Taking time to breath the fresh air in and out. Running or jogging without music became a task that I would try. (Not too often because I need a beat to run too :) I would listen to the constant pattern of my breathing and let my thoughts wander. My biggest help became journaling. Write it down, get it out, and move on. The last couple of years especially I have become quite comfortable with myself as far as being alone goes. In fact I look forward to alone time. When my kids go to bed I enjoy tv, reading, or other tasks that I am able to do. Life can be so crazy and busy, but there is great comfort in knowing that God is in charge of my life. "Be Still, and Know that I Am God."
Don't get me completely wrong. I do still get lonely at times. Lonely for a partner. Someone to bounce ideas off of, laugh with, love, and someone to share my heart with. Many tears have come wishing for someone to hold, share inside jokes with, or just plain "be there" with me. However, I have put that part of my life completely in God's hands. If it's meant to be then it will happen. If it's not meant to happen, then I'm ok with that because I still know that my Heavenly Father loves me and the promises that will be mine one day.
I believe that when you climb a mountain you do so with a purpose. Maybe the purpose is to exercise, see a beautiful view, spend time with friends, or just enjoy the journey. However every time I climb a mountain I leave a piece of myself at the top. Maybe it's a frustration, unkind feelings towards someone, or maybe someone has offended me. When I am ready I look out over the view, take a moment, and leave whatever is bothering me at the time up on that mountain. Then make a promise to come back down with a new attitude, rejuvenation of life, and a positive outlook. For three years I have worn a yellow "Livestrong" cancer bracelet on my right arm as a reminder of my battle. I would look at it often and remember the hardships that once were. A reminder of daily medication, loss of hair, and illness. I recently went to Mexico on a yoga retreat, and spent time by the ocean reflecting on my past as well as the future to come. While there I took my yellow bracelet and threw it into the ocean to be carried out to sea. I felt as though it was time to let that reminder go. No more concentration devoted to illness, hair loss, and awful medication. I will ponder on things from time to time about that season in life, but I felt it was time to remove the constant daily reminder. This sounds so silly; I admit that, but for me it was a giant step forward. "Moving forward is much better than going back. Especially if you've experienced what it took to get you where you are today."
This tee-tor totter relationship with myself went back and forth for a long time. Coming home to an empty house is almost as lonely at times as living with someone who doesn't want anything to do with you. It took me a long while to be "ok" with myself alone. Feeling as though I was enough too time. It took a small eternity to be alone in my house without any distractions. For a long time the tv had to be on all the time to keep me company. If it wasn't the tv then it was the radio, but as time went on I found that meditation, in a healthy form, can be healing and peaceful. I began to hike or go for walks. Taking time to breath the fresh air in and out. Running or jogging without music became a task that I would try. (Not too often because I need a beat to run too :) I would listen to the constant pattern of my breathing and let my thoughts wander. My biggest help became journaling. Write it down, get it out, and move on. The last couple of years especially I have become quite comfortable with myself as far as being alone goes. In fact I look forward to alone time. When my kids go to bed I enjoy tv, reading, or other tasks that I am able to do. Life can be so crazy and busy, but there is great comfort in knowing that God is in charge of my life. "Be Still, and Know that I Am God."
Don't get me completely wrong. I do still get lonely at times. Lonely for a partner. Someone to bounce ideas off of, laugh with, love, and someone to share my heart with. Many tears have come wishing for someone to hold, share inside jokes with, or just plain "be there" with me. However, I have put that part of my life completely in God's hands. If it's meant to be then it will happen. If it's not meant to happen, then I'm ok with that because I still know that my Heavenly Father loves me and the promises that will be mine one day.
I believe that when you climb a mountain you do so with a purpose. Maybe the purpose is to exercise, see a beautiful view, spend time with friends, or just enjoy the journey. However every time I climb a mountain I leave a piece of myself at the top. Maybe it's a frustration, unkind feelings towards someone, or maybe someone has offended me. When I am ready I look out over the view, take a moment, and leave whatever is bothering me at the time up on that mountain. Then make a promise to come back down with a new attitude, rejuvenation of life, and a positive outlook. For three years I have worn a yellow "Livestrong" cancer bracelet on my right arm as a reminder of my battle. I would look at it often and remember the hardships that once were. A reminder of daily medication, loss of hair, and illness. I recently went to Mexico on a yoga retreat, and spent time by the ocean reflecting on my past as well as the future to come. While there I took my yellow bracelet and threw it into the ocean to be carried out to sea. I felt as though it was time to let that reminder go. No more concentration devoted to illness, hair loss, and awful medication. I will ponder on things from time to time about that season in life, but I felt it was time to remove the constant daily reminder. This sounds so silly; I admit that, but for me it was a giant step forward. "Moving forward is much better than going back. Especially if you've experienced what it took to get you where you are today."
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