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.

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!

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."

Chapter 9

I have discovered as I get older that I have been able to block a lot of memories from my mind.  Now, I'm not exactly sure if this is because perhaps my subconscious doesn't want to remember certain things, or if I have taken so much medication that I have permanently become lodged in a state of brain fog.  In many ways this has become a blessing in my life, however I learned the hard way that "stuffing" feelings down deep inside doesn't make them go away.  It only makes for some awful flashbacks that are crippling.  Diagnosed in 2010 with HIV I did not tell my family right away.  I did not tell my best friend until almost a year later.  I was ashamed, I was humiliated, and most of all I was in denial.  I felt completely fine, and somehow or other I was determined that this awful disease wouldn't really affect a woman like me.  Someone who had tried her hardest to do what's right all her life.  With the exception of being a complete "handful" to my mother as a teen I had lived my life how I had been taught.  I believed in God, I had great faith, served a mission, and married in the temple.  I was a mother, and I enjoyed my babies.  If I didn't talk about the disease then it didn't really exist.  I didn't look any different.  I was the same person as I was before being diagnosed.  I was the same friend, daughter, mother, and Sara as I had always been.  Except that I was sick.

My physician had told me at my diagnosis that eventually my spleen may need to come out.  The spleen is an organ that cleans your blood and helps produce antibodies to help the immune system.  He also told me that my risk for cancer jumped to 80%.  That if untreated, without medication the HIV virus would prove fatal.  Going through a divorce and having 2 small babies I just didn't put these facts first in my life.  Instead I chose to stuff these things down deep inside.  I stuffed them so deep in fact that I pretended that nothing was really wrong.  Until I couldn't deny things any longer.  In the spring of 2011 I was running a Ragnar race called the Wasatch Back.  It was in Midway Utah that I was in the middle of my final run for my team.  A 7 mile stretch.  Around mile 4 my stomach began cramping so badly that I had to stop several times and walk.  By the 5th mile I was in tears.  My stomach hurt so badly that I was on my knees on the side of the road.  A fellow team member took over my spot and finished my run.  At the time I was more disappointed in myself for allowing my body to beat my mental self as a runner.  In pain and frustrated I got in the van and watched as a teammate finished my 2 miles.  I remember after this particular leg going into a restroom at a gas station and I was horrified that I was passing a lot of blood.  

A few days later I was back at my physician who ran tests.  The news which I received was not good.  HIV related non-hodgkins lymphoma.  This lymphoma is a slow growing B cell lymphoma which is terminal in the body.  It does not go away.  Because there is no cure for the HIV virus there is no beating this cancer.  It is very manageable.  However the radiation and chemo medication would take a severe toll on my immune system dropping my t-cell counts dangerously low.  For almost a year I wondered just how long I would be here on earth.  I thought about my children.  There were months when they did not live with me.  Thanks to my wonderful brother and sister in law my babies were able to have a stable environment to be in.  

http://www.cancer.gov/cancertopics/factsheet/Risk/hiv-infection

In the next few months I became very ill.  This time in my life is still very difficult to talk about for me.  I have contemplated why that's so?  For some reason I feel as though if I don't talk then the problem doesn't really exist, or that somehow I will wake up from an awful nightmare and be well again.  I of course had much news to share with my family.  It was time to start talking.  I had been going to therapy for almost a year at this point, and I had talked at length with my therapist about many issues beginning from marriage.  My therapist knew about my disease long before my family members did.  It was just easier in so many ways for me to talk to a complete stranger than my own mother.  Radiation was so hard on my immune system.  My t-cell counts dropped so incredibly low.  By sheer faith of those around me, and my desperate prayers I made it through this awful time.  

I am leaving out so much of this time of my life, but I don't want to focus on the negative.  I believe that the mind is the strongest muscle we have, and when your mind is in the right place; the absolute right place, everything else will fall in line.  I have become beyond grateful for each day.  For time to be able to go outside and be in nature.  Many things are not so important anymore, and I really do take time to make memories with my children.  I need to know for myself that I have engraved lasting memories of positive times in their little minds.  I want so badly for them to know that their mommy loves them.  They are my two lotus flowers that have blossomed into beautiful flowers despite all the mud and dirt they have pushed through early on in life.  That's how a lotus blooms you know.  It starts way down in the mud and over time it's fervent efforts to make it up to the sunlight at the top of the water keeps its spirit alive.  It has to go through all the ugly to get to the beauty, and once that flower reaches the tops of the water; oh how gorgeous it is.  

I do not know my exact lifespan.  I hope it's a long while to come.  I do know that I want to fill each day with gratitude and love for everything around me.  I hug more; even strangers.  I don't stress so much about the future.  The Lord is in charge of that.  I pull my kids into my bed in the middle of the night instead of putting them back in their room.  I look people in the eye more and genuinely say "Thank You."  I take deep breaths, laugh, love, and remember that everyday I'm here is a blessing.  I hope that my kids will be proud of me.  I hope that I make some footprint here, and that I always remember to Pay it Forward what has been done for me.  

Chapter 8

Well we are three weeks into the new school year and I am finding it a little difficult at times to get used to this new chapter in my life.  Having both girls in school the whole day I have begun to deeply think about this new phase in my life.  Not having my little sidekick next to me everyday gets kind of lonely sometimes, but when she comes home and tells me all about her day I realize that Olivia is happy at school and enjoys all her new friends.  She has enjoyed having some little boys throw away her lunch, follow her around the playground, and helped her carry her backpack.  (Oh dear, heaven help us in the future!) She loves all the girls in her class, and both my girls really like their new teachers.  Ellie too, is happy and enjoys being with her friends.  If I let my mind wander too far.....junior high is in 2 years; just around the corner, and I AM NOT ready for that!! Ellie has always been an excellent student.  She loves learning and has never really minded homework.  She loves math.  Which the only fear I have when she has math homework is hearing her yell from the kitchen, "Mom, I don't get this problem." I feel like I want to hide when I hear those words, which really isn't very often because she rarely has an issue.

I've thought about how fast time goes by, and how their little lives are becoming more and more enriched with experiences in this world.  I pray and even often tell each girl that despite the bad in life, there is SO MUCH good.  I've felt pressed to keep their attention focused on the good in those who are in their lives.  You know it's sad in a way because every year that kids get older a little bit of their innocence is lost.  I've thought about what might be their ambitions and aspirations for the future.  I hope that each of my girls grows up to be a loving, kind, caring, and understanding person.  I hope they feel free to be themselves and express themselves in a positive way.  Be patient with people around them.  I think we all learn this lesson in life.  Some people I am more patient with than others.  I admit that....:)

Earlier this year I wrote a poem that I will one day read to my girls.  My Mom had it framed for my birthday, and it sits in my room.  I have learned that most important things in this world aren't "things." More importantly are those we have in our lives.  If you really want someone in your life, you make sure they stay there.  Relationships with those around us will come and go, but hopefully we will take a piece of each one with us through life's journey.  Love you girls!!!

I do not own a fancy house,

Or drive the latest car.

My bank account is nothing big,

I do not travel very far.

To dress myself in stunning jewels,

Is nothing I can afford.

I made a list of all my assets,

And it seems I'm rather poor.

With me there is no secret stash,

What you see is what you get.

No pot of gold at my rainbow,

But I haven't given hope up yet.

When it comes to my material things,

My net worth is kind of low.

My wishlist of what I want,

Doesn't match my actual cash flow.

But my life is good and my smile is big

I have more riches than I can say;

I have the love of my sweet girls

Their happiness beats any payday!

Within the walls of our small home,

Love and laughter abide within.

For all the money in the world,

I would not trade this gift in.

All the diamonds a girl could want,

Cannot be found in my jewelry box.

But instead; trinkets, notes and drawings

Lost first teeth and hair locks.

My car is old and may have some dents,

But it gets me where I need to be.

Ball games, lessons, and tumbling class

Play practice, PTA, or anywhere else my girls need me.

And one day before I know,

I'll be buried down in the ground.

It is my prayer that my girls looks back,

And say, “We're sure glad Mom was around.”

We did not have a great big house,

Or ride in a fancy car.

But we sure made some memories,

That will outlast dollar bills by far.

I pray they learn from their young age,

That happiness cannot be bought.

That when they are discouraged,

Feeling down, saddened, and distraught

They take a look around them,

And be happy with what they've got!!

Chapter 7

Well since I am in the mood to "rant and raive" a bit I figured why not do so on my blog??  I thought I would take just a moment and educate some of my friends about the way the government works for folks like me....you know the ones who are on state assistance.  Remarks about Welfare on Facebook are all too familiar and personal to me.  Yes, it's a little bit of a sting each time I read somebody re-posting something about how they are paying MY food, medical, and housing bills each month.  Although a portion of this IS true I am not however wasting the tax payers money on booze, cigarettes, and gambling. As if I'm some lazy piece of junk that just wants to take the government, hard working tax payers, for everything they've got.  Believe me I never wanted to be on public assistance.  It wasn't a "goal" I set out for, and to this day it puts a very distinct and BITTER taste in my mouth when I think about it.  But YES! many of you are paying my food bill each month.  More of you are paying my doctor bills, prescription refills, and my rent each month!  More of you are paying for my heat in the wintertime.  This is NOT  fact I'm proud of, and to be frank I'm sorry if this kind of help for me angers you, but I urge each of my friends to remember the situation my children and I have been put in is not one of choice.  I NEVER said, "I think I'll just mooch off the system for awhile."

I remember the FIRST time I walked into Work Force Services in Clearfield.  I was standing in a building completely strange to me.  I didn't even know this place existed.  I was overcome with tears, and I still to this day remember them flowing freely as I asked the man behind the customer service desk what I needed to do to apply for government "help."  He directed me to some pamphlets, booklets, and other necessary paperwork to fill out.  I had heard of Food Stamps.  In fact, when I was a checker at grocery store during college I knew that they bought certain grocery items.  I knew they were different than WIC, but that I had to count out the money for the Food Stamps to make sure the person using them had enough to purchase their groceries.  My first encounter with these was when I was a checker and I actually had to tell a woman that she didn't have enough stamps to cover her bill.  I remember feeling so awful for this woman, and I felt even more awful having to tell her that her stamps didn't cover her bill.  She left all the groceries at my register for the bag boy to put back because she just couldn't use her cash to pay for things.  She simply DIDN'T have the money.  When I went into Clearfield I obtained the necessary papers to apply for this same program.  I was working at Corbin's Grille at the time, and I knew that I just didn't make enough money to pay for everything that my young children and I needed.  My job was completely secondary.  In my understanding while I was married...."your job is our PLAY money."  I didn't HAVE to work while I was married, but for my own sanity I needed too.  My husband never liked it when I worked.  I could always tell that.  It meant he was tied down with the children, but at the same time, I never really ASKED permission.  I just needed that time out to be a better mother, wife, and not to mention...have some adult conversation.

When I applied I had to fill out my whole life story on paper, then be interviewed over the phone and answer every question about my background.  The first go around I was COMPLETELY honest.  I told how my dad would help me if I couldn't make the rent on my new apartment.  I was forthcoming about I worked part time, and that at the moment I was still on my husbands health insurance for the next three months, or at least until our divorce was final.  The government was completely relentless at squeezing every detail out of me.  What were my assets?  Did I have a car, property, trust fund, insurance, or bank accounts in my name?  If so....how much did they total?  What were they worth?  Who was the beneficiary?  It wasn't until late that I learned just how LITTLE if nothing I could really have in my name.  Almost nothing can be claimed to be MINE.  For my honesty I was denied.  Then I was denied again.  The third go around and many months later, still not supporting myself, I filled out the assistance papers.  This time I had closed all bank accounts, insurance benefits were no longer in my name, I had not property, my car was not in my name, and I had signed off that I had NOTHING!  I was finally approved for assistance.  I felt relieved however, at the same time heartbroken.  My dad grew up in the depression.  Nothing was ever handed to him.  He worked for everything he had.  The man wouldn't buy a car unless he had the money to own it outright.  He wrote a check for a house, and then sold his old one.  The same year I got assistance my dad passed.  I kept hearing his voice in my head.  Like I needed to work harder, do more, I just felt that I had let him down by being on Food Stamps or Medicaid.  It was awful.  It IS awful feeling like you are NOTHING! That you can't support yourself.  Our system is so completely screwed up!!  If I work full time, as per my doctor, I will be sick and flat in bed in a matter of months.  However full time work is the only way I will qualify for insurance benefits.  My one medication a month....an Antiretroviral called Atripla is $2300 a month without insurance.  Thanks to Governor Herbert this medication has been uncovered anyhow since last October.  Thank goodness as of September 15, 2014 Medicaid will again cover this medication and I will no longer pay out of pocket in order to stay on my necessary life sentenced medication.  If I went to work part time (WHICH I TOTALLY FEEL I COULD DO) I would not have any health insurance, and surely could not afford my monthly medical bills.  I have already had to declare medical bankruptcy because medical bills, hospital stays, treatments, and medications. So the message to me is that I can sit and do NOTHING and get benefits through Social Security, or I work part time and have zero medical coverage.  Third option....I take the chance and work full time with the hopes I won't get sick.  The chances of that is extremely slim.  Not only will I most likely burn out, but my children are too young to get themselves here and there.  Ready for school, homework, extra activities etc. BUT the biggest...how long will any given company put up with my medical bills on their company's insurance before they let me go.  Sure Obama has said that you can no longer discriminate, but I don't put my trust in Obama.....BIG SHOCKER!!  It will only take a matter of months before any company gives me some sorry excuse about how they have to let me go because my position is no longer needed in their company, while really the reason behind my dismissal is that of high premiums on the company's medical program.

Soooo although it is NOTHING I'm proud of, I have learned that for now I have to accept the governments help for my family.  Belief me my self esteem has felt every blow that is ever joked about on Facebook about Welfare and assistance.  Not everyone who is on government help is a drug addict, in prison, or an alcoholic.  There are people like me who have been handed a messed up situation, and we have to deal with it.  Swallow big gulps of pride and accept the help.  I can't really say what the future brings, but as for now, this is where my life is and I have to be ok with that.  However, just because I am ok with it for now, doesn't mean that I am comfortable in my own shoes.  My self worth has taken a huge blow.  Self esteem knows in which company the majority of society holds me in, and I am reminded of that each month when the food stamp balance is put on my monthly card.  Just because I am on government help doesn't mean I want to be.  Just because I don't work part time doesn't mean I'm lazy, and just because I pretend to be fine with the way things are doesn't mean I am.

Chapter 6

So I've come to the conclusion that some things from the past are better left there...in the past.  Some personal moments are better left unsaid, or they are to be discussed at the proper time with certain people.  I've thought a lot about how much I want to share, especially via the internet over a blog website.  Since these chapters are for my girls and will one day be read by them, I feel the need to respect their innocence at this time and share only what I feel comfortable with.  At a time in the near future I know that I will have some difficult discussions ahead of me.  It will not be an easy task to explain my medical situation to my children.  I will need a lot of strength when that time comes.

I did not always know that I was a wife of a man living a double life.  When I was a new bride I was no different than any other newlywed.  My head was up in the clouds while building a home with my new husband.  We moved into our home only 3 weeks after we came back from our honeymoon.  I spent the next few months decorating, putting in a yard, and making our house into a home.  Looking back I can now realize that there were certain times when things seemed a bit "off"in the romantic area of our relationship, however, I figured it was something that we would work on together.  We were married in an LDS temple which in our religion meant that we had both saved ourselves sexually for marriage.  After several months of problems and feelings of frustrations I began to doubt myself as a woman.  The man lying next to me had always told me how beautiful he thought I was.  He had paid me tons of compliments while we were dating, and was such a gentleman when we went out on dates.  For the first several months of our marriage I often heard him say how nice he thought I looked, or that he was so lucky to have such a beautiful wife.  He "said" these things, but when it was time to "show"(if you catch my drift) it just wasn't what I'd had in mind.  I made a suggestion one day that maybe he should see a doctor, or that we should go together to seek medical help with our "issues," I quickly realized that I had just unleashed what seemed to be a mad dog.  That suggestion of mine, only hoping to help the two of us, had turned into a suggestion that was turned back at me.  Months of frustrations came flooding out from this gentle man.  It was no longer suggested that the "timing" of relations in the bedroom had anything to do with him, and for the first time I heard many ugly words blaming me for our problems behind closed doors.  Of course as a woman and a new wife I took it extremely personal, and began to sob trying to figure out what I was doing wrong.  A person may say to me now, "It wasn't your fault," or "you shouldn't worry about those things now that you know he's gay," but the truth is this was an emotional scar 10 years ago, and it still is an emotional scar I'm dealing with today.  From only a few months into our new marriage our sex life, or the lack thereof had become not only MY problem, but was thrown into my face every time I made an attempt and was shot down.  After so long of being told how disgusting you are, or how I can't "please" a man I quit trying to iniciate anything other than a hug or a kiss.  Did I wonder if he was cheating? NO NOT ONCE!!  Maybe I was stupid, but the thought never crossed my mind.  I made excuses for his behavior, his verbal comments, or belittling remarks.

Around the same time I was first being blammed for things going wrong in the bedroom, remarks about my weight began to start.  I don't know how to really explain these things so that someone won't read this and say, "Really, what a jerk! Why didn't you just leave?" The master art of manipulation is in my opinion a slow process, and it works really really well against women who already have a lower self-esteem or self image of themself.  I have always been a very confident, put together person for the public eye, however many times in my past I was an anxious, self criticizing, and frazzled person when I was alone.  I have learned to be much better at this over the past several years.  Today when someone asks me if I'm having a good day, they will generally get a TRUE answer!  Sometimes too truthful....lol  However I believe that for the most part I have trained myself to handle things better, talk things out, and realize my self worth in the eyes of my Heavenly Father.  When ugly comments were directed my way from my spouse it wasn't like they were all at once or everyday.  Mixed emotions were a constant in my mind, however for the public eye everything was totally fine.  I think any woman would be sensitive with comments about such tender subjects, and as time went on I stopped questioning why I was being told such lies, but instead began believing all of them.  To the public I was being boosted up by my husband, however behind our walls was another story.  Every compliment was sarcastic to my face, and it seemed as though no matter what I said Drew heard it differently.  Words spoken were twisted into things that I had done wrong.

I am still working on my self image even four years later after divorce.  I have gone to therapy and talked at lengths about my body. I still look at myself in the mirror and occasionally hear derogatory remarks in my mind.  It has gotten a lot better, but it's still a struggle and I imagine that it always will be.  Also, I'm still working on my overall physical image to the opposite sex.  I get very nervous when a man pays me a sincere compliment.  I know they are being genuine however the first question in my is usually, "what does he really mean, or what does he really want?"  Dealing with the fact that I have never really experienced true love is sometimes hard, but I don't give up hope.  I may or may not in this life.  After my divorce I was made completely aware that I was used by my ex.  He wanted children and he wanted to portray an "image" for his family and the public.  But there was never clearly any love.  In his words, "I needed someone to use, and you seemed like as good of a sucker as any woman." Yeah.....I know...ick!  I am trying to learn that not all compliments have ulterior motives, that I'm a beautiful person despite one jerks opinion, and that one day I will know what it really means to be loved by a man unconditionally.  I'm working on shedding the ugly comments that come into my head at times.  I hate that I even question my self image, physical appeal to men, or that I'm just someone to "use" because of one man.  I have two beautiful girls to raise.  I'm teaching them to have their own positive self images, express their individuality, creativity, and personalities in this world.  That they can leave it a better place by being in it.  Let me make it clear...lol that I'm in NO hurry to find true love, date, or rush into any relationship.  I've got a lot of healing to still accomplish before I'm ready to be in that situation, and I've got two littles that need me.  I consider myself pretty lucky to have them and to be their momma.

Chapter 5

So there's a quote off of one of my all time favorite shows "Steel Magnolias" where Dolly Parton says to her friend, "Laughter through tears is one of my favorite emotions." I have always liked that expression, and if I could cross stitch perhaps it would be on a throw pillow on my couch...lol.  I sure have experienced a lot of laughter through tears since divorce.  I always had good friends that reminded me to keep my chin up when I felt down, look on the brighter side of life, and always, always, always get up in the morning and keep going no matter how hard. You know, I've heard people say that if you do something like 42 times or something it becomes a habit.  I could totally be off on the 42 thing, but anyway if you do something enough it becomes routine.  I have my own analogy on this.

Just a quick example, there have been days where I have consistently eaten healthy foods. Enough meals to make sure that I have developed a habit of putting good things into my body. Then there have also been those times where after 40 plus days of eating like a rabbit, I ravenously attack the candy isle at Wal-Mart and go on a full on junk food binge for days!! But after a few days of gorging myself and taking a pre diabetic sabbatical vacation from the healthy food I feel horrible.  I feel soft, sluggish, tired, and disappointed in myself for my lack of self control with the candy and junk food.  I once again have a talk with myself about the importance to stay healthy, active, and keep up all my energy for my kids.  I am re-committed once again to eating healthier, getting in my exercise, and plenty of sleep.  The will power begins again!  Now, I use this example of a healthy lifestyle not to boast, or brag to others about what I consider to be healthy.  It's just my own personal analogy.  I was taught from a young age to eat what was put on my plate.  I was an active kid who got plenty of exercise.  I watched my mom struggle with her weight, dieting, and diabetes year after year.  From her example I made a conscience decision to try my best to keep those problems at a distance in my adult life because I could see the struggles that they brought.

Practicing laughter through tears is a lesson I learned only a few years ago with the help of my Heavenly Father.  During much of my married life, definitely during divorce, and for sure after being diagnosed HIV positive I practiced ANGER through tears!  I practiced it so much that if became a daily habit.  For sure more than 42 times in a row. I cried a lot, which I believe was completely normal given my own struggles which I was facing, however, I lost perspective of any blessings that can also come out of such trials.  Instead of drawing closer to my Savior, I was filled with anger, resentment, and bitterness.  I was robbing myself of the power of the Atonement and the closeness which I so needed in my life. I ached for someone who could understand what I felt inside, and how scared I was to face the future.  Jesus Christ was there for me.  He hadn't gone anywhere, yet I had left him.  I left everything I had been taught as a child, a youth, and a missionary.  My testimony floundered, and my faith was gone altogether.  My church attendance stopped, I stopped saying my prayers, no studying the scriptures, and gradually I quit living the gospel altogether.  Looking back this period of my life was an extended sabbatical away from my Savior.

(On another entry I'll explain what humbled me enough to get back on the path where I needed to be)

My actions and my thinking have drastically changed from negative to positive today.  My relationship with my Heavenly Father is such a blessing to me in my life. I rely on it daily. When we are actually able to use the Atonement in our lives, we really are impacted by its power.  You want to forgive those who have wronged you, and you just want to do better each day than you did the previous one.  All my cancer friends can vouch for this statement of mine.  After you have experienced such sickness where all you can do is lay on the couch and watch life pass right by you; after you can't even walk to the mailbox without feeling so exhausted, or you've thrown up so much from the poison that you've been given to "help" you that your abs hurt and your eyes are bloodshot.  After all this and more, if you get a good day when you feel well...you don't waste that day.  You get up and hit the ground running; spending every minute with those you love.  You say things that you might have been afraid to say. You take advantage of every minute of life.  You make your peace with those around you, and you simply LET IT GO!!  If you can't change it then accept it.  That serenity prayer at AA meetings....is completely truth.  :)

When I was eating healthy both literally and consuming spiritual food to feed my spirit I was living the way I should.  I felt happy.  I had energy, experienced love, peace, and a calmness.  I was proud of the things I was doing and the way I was living.  When I wandered off into spiritual darkness, or strayed off the right path the peace and happiness left me.  The Holy Ghost could not be with me.  Yet after trying to fill my life with spiritual junk food I had the same realization as I have when I actually spend days eating junk.   I was disappointed in myself, sluggish, sad, and felt horrible.  I knew within myself that it was time to re-commit to what I knew to be right. It was time to repent.  It was time to feel good again with my outlook on life.  We cannot have "Laughter through tears" when life doesn't go the way we expect when we are not living the way we should.  That "laughter" or joy; the inner peace that we can have in our lives is only felt through our Savior and the spirit of our Heavenly Father.  When we choose to experience "Anger through tears" the Comforter leaves us, and the adversary moves us closer to within his grasp.  He finds his own "joy" in seeing us struggle.  Seeing us fail and fall off the path back to our Heavenly Father brings Satan happiness.  The only people I've ever met who have wanted others to fail at anything they try are those people who are so miserable in their own lives that they want to bring others into their misery.  It's a sick, warped, and a toxic way of thinking; and I personally don't want that in what's left of my life.  I choose happiness!!

Chapter 4

I think all of us have spent some time when we were younger thinking about our future life.  In my first years of college I would spend lots of time, particularly at night, dreaming about my future life.  I made several different lists of what kind of qualities I wanted in my future husband.  I remember specifically praying to my Heavenly Father and letting him know that whomever I was to be married to, I would have to meet them somewhere other than a single adult ward in my church.  I couldn't stand single adult activities.  I always got approached by the "old" men who already had a few kids running around, and they were looking for a new wife to keep on pro-creating...lol.  It only took two BAD experiences at Weber State Institute dances for me to come home, get on my knees, and begin to offer up a prayer to my Father in Heaven and announcing that if he intended me to marry, I would have to meet someone while still attending my home ward.

I pictured myself with children.  Four boys to be exact!  I wanted to be the mom that ran the kids to their various activities.  I thought about what kind of house I wanted, what sort of street I hoped to live on, and pictured myself pushing a baby stroller while following a toddler riding a bike on training wheels around my neighborhood.  Even though I have always hated cooking, I envisioned cooking for my husband and family.  I hoped that I would make friends with my neighbors, and that we would share the same moral values.  I wanted to have my kids enjoy play dates with their friends.  I prayed that  I would be a patient, loving, understanding, and kind mother.  I always wanted a basketball hoop out in my front yard, a trampoline in the back yard, and a piano in my living room.  Thinking back on all my daydreams they all had one thing in common....NOTHING was ever going to go wrong.  When I thought about my future I knew that life would throw curve balls at me now and then, but I had no idea that what I was playing out in my mind would be so completely different than what I would actually get to experience.

In the Spring of 2009 I was the queen of bitterness and hatred.  I joked with some friends that if there was a women's rights group around, not only would I be their biggest supporter, but I would plot to overtake their leader and take charge! I was so busy being so angry at the world that I didn't see one bit of beauty in it.  My children became a huge burden instead of a blessing.  God no longer became someone whom I wanted to rely on, but rather a target of my intense anger and frustration.  I wanted answers, and I wasn't wanting to hear anything sugar coated.  "The Lord only gives you challenges that you are strong enough to handle," was not on my top 10 comforting thoughts.  I am so ashamed to admit it today, but my biggest person that was to blame for the bad things happening to me, in my book, was my Heavenly Father.  After him came MEN! Men in general.  My dad and my brothers were excluded from this hate group, and I didn't hate all men.  Only the ones on earth.  At this point my ex had not come out of the closet, and I still had no idea of what illness was growing inside me because of him.  I just knew that I was divorced, he had asked me and his children to leave "his house" and I knew he was living a lie.  Going to work everyday in the LDS Church Printing Division and continuing to manipulate EVERYONE in his life.  I began questioning every man I knew.  "What were they really like?" "What were they really doing when they told their wives they would be home late?"  I looked at my neighbors, men at the store, the movies, restaurants, men I knew from work, and men I'd known for years and began to feel a disgust for them.  I had been hurt so badly by the man who was supposed to love and care for me that I questioned ALL men.  My ex was SO good at lying and living a lie.  He fooled everyone.  My family, his work, his family, his friends, our neighbors, and ward members that I felt if he could do that, all men must be lying about something.

I tried to talk to a friend after I had moved out of my house and tell her that our marriage was not what it had appeared to be to the public eye.  As I began to vent about my ex and what he was really like and I was stopped by my friend.  She told me that Drew was such a good person that she just couldn't believe that what I was telling her was true.  So I quit talking and fell deeper into anger and depression. I began to put up walls.  Big cement walls.  I didn't want anyone inside these walls.  I built the walls up high and I stayed behind them.  I didn't talk about anything that had gone on in our home previously. It was over a year later when I finally started talking about things again.  During that year of complete depression I felt so empty.  I began to try and fill those empty sad feelings with substance abuse.  I quit talking, dealing with my feelings, and caring about myself or my family, and I began finding chemical ways to feel better.  Out of control.  I could no longer control my daydreams of what my future would be like.  The daydreams were no longer happy.  They were filled with Work Force Services, Food Assistance, Medicaid, standing in line for benefits, government cash assistance, SSI applications, long hold times on the phone, and the demands of 2 young children.  I was so overwhelmed it seemed like a nightmare. The unknown was terrifying to me, and I had absolutely no control over anything.  In just a couple months I would find out that things would go a lot worse before they got better.

Chapter 3

Phone calls from strangers make me nervous.  At least they do now.  Perhaps it's a flashback feeling to once particular phone call from years back. But still to this day when the phone rings and I don't recognize the number my heart rate speeds up a bit.  In April 2010 I had been divorced for only one month.  I had been separated for 13 months.  Basically I was going through the motions of life.  I honestly can't remember much of this chapter in my life.  One day ran into the next and months passed.  I fell into a dark hole.  A deep dark hole.  I was medicated, however, severally depressed.  I was a mother, however I wasn't enjoying it.  I was quick to frustration, cried constantly, and slept a lot. During this time my custody situation was joint.  The girls went with their dad each weekend.  This proved to be a bad thing because without my children around all I did was think.  Not in a good way either.  My thoughts were not good ones, and at my lowest I acted on the thoughts put into my head by Satan.  I became overcome with thoughts that my girls would be better off without me.  I had failed them.  As if somehow everything was my fault.  I had become brain washed into believing that I was such a horrible person.  I blamed myself for my divorce.  I blamed myself for everything wrong.  But then again, I had been told for almost 10 years that everything was my fault, and that I was an awful person.  Someone repulsive that no one had wanted, and that no one would ever want.  I had some dark moments in our town home, but none as dark as the phone call I received towards the end of April.

It was late at night.  Really late.  Around 12:30 and my phone rang.  I stared at the number on the phone and didn't recognize it.  I remember thinking, "who calls this late?" So much drama had been going on between me and Drew.  He would call relentlessly to fight and bicker.  We were not on any good terms.  He HATED the fact that he was no longer in control of me, and would often park his vehicle outside my house and watch.  Hoping for a man, or anyone sketchy to come by so that he could use it against me in a custody battle.  He became completely crazy.  This time in my life was terrifying. I was experiencing so much mental pain and PTSD flashbacks. (Flashbacks that will be noted at a different time).  I answered the phone hesitantly and the voice on the other end was strange to me.  It was a man.  A man I didn't know.  He said he was a friend of Drew's, and that he had been wanting to call for quite sometime but just hadn't gotten up the nerve.  He asked me if I had felt sick lately.  I said "no."  Then I asked, "what kind of sick."  He asked if I had had the flu or cold like symptoms that had seemed to drag on.  Again hesitantly I said "no...why?" Now I was worried.  This was weird.  This man then got extremely emotional.  He stated that he had been a "friend" of my ex husbands for several years.  They had been intimate since 2006.  He claimed he didn't know that Drew was married.  He had recently found out that he had once had a wife and children. He apologized up and down.  I asked if he was alright.  "Did something happen to Drew?" I asked.  He recommended that I take my children and be tested for HIV because he had recently been diagnosed.  I was completely numb.  I had so many thoughts running through my head at that moment that time seemed to freeze.  Inadequate feelings in the bedroom on my part came rushing through my head.  My honeymoon.  Things that had always been "my fault" became very real. Images found on my computer from only a year ago seemed to make complete sense.  Flashbacks that I thought had been horrible dreams came into my mind, and I quickly began to question if they weren't flashbacks at all, but reality.  I began to shake on the phone with this man.  My breathing became quick and short, and my heart felt as though it would come through my chest.  I could only respond with "ok."  I hung up the phone so fast.  Like if I didn't have to keep talking about that conversation it didn't really happen.  "What was that?" I remember thinking.  I wanted to tell someone, but I just couldn't.  I couldn't talk about anything that was going through my mind.  I felt if I even entertained the idea I would have a nervous breakdown with my two young kids in the next room.  I had to get up the next day, make breakfast, take Ellie to school, and go to work.  I had to keep going with LIFE.  I couldn't even cope with this thought.

Three weeks later I walked out of my family physicians office with my results.  I looked around me.  I watched the cars drive by.  I watched people walking in and out of the office.  The sun was shinning.  I could hear birds.  People were laughing.  It occurred to me that life was still going.  The world was still moving even as I stood still.  I couldn't move.  How should I tell my family? How am I going to tell my children? How am I going to afford this? I don't have insurance. What the hell am I going to do?  Maybe it wasn't real.  I felt fine.  I didn't feel sick.  I had become immersed in going to the gym.  I LOVED to run.  I didn't want to stop that.  I was good at it.  I had my first half marathon in a week.  I have races scheduled.  I just made the Striders running team.  Why are the people still going on with their life?  Don't they know mine is over? What am I going to tell my friends? Can I ever be intimate with someone again? What if I loose friends? I feel fine.  I'm good.  I'll be ok.  It won't affect me.  I have gone this long without medication I'll be fine.  I'm just going to keep going.  I don't look different. I don't feel different.  Am I going to die? I'm HIV positive.  Why is the world still going when mine feels completely over?  Doesn't everyone know my life is over?

Chapter 2/May 27, 2014

I never really had any serious boyfriends.  Being raised as the youngest of six children I came as quite a surprise to my parents in 1979.  There are 14 years between the next oldest and myself.  By the time I came along I have very few memories of my brother Jeff living at home.  I was basically raised an only child, and because I spent a lot of time around adults it was adults that I learned to relate to the best.  I had also skipped a grade in school, so I may have appeared as being a lot older than I really was.  I didn't learn to drive until the end of my Junior year.  I began college as a young seventeen year old, and looking back I really wasn't ready.  I was raised as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  I have wonderful memories of my time as a young woman.  Spending time at youth conferences, girls camp, activities, and wonderful leaders are memories I will always hold dear.  My good friends were always those that I knew from church.  As far as school goes, I really only had one best friend from 3rd grade all through high school.  In fact this bestie ended up marrying my date whom I had asked to a girls choice dance.  (Whole other story!) I felt uncomfortable with teenagers at the time I was one, however, I really do enjoy teenagers now that I am grown.  

I'm not exactly sure why I felt uncomfortable around my peers.  I never wanted to go to parties, "hang out" in groups, go to games, or dances.  I never was asked to a school dance.  No prom or homecoming for this girl.  This never really was a problem for me while I was in school because my parents wouldn't have allowed me to date anyway until I was sixteen.  I did go to two girls choice dances during my senior year, but the boys I went with were "just friends."  I always did relate to the boys in school better than the girls.  I hate drama.  Still to this day I can't stand gossip or people who back stab.  If you are fake or just a bitch, then that's fine for you; go ahead and live that way.  I'm in no position to tell you otherwise, however, kindly stay out of my life.  Since girls tend to have the more "dramatic" personality, I tended to get along better with they boys.  Don't misunderstand that comment however, the boys always made it clear to me they were just my friends. No puppy love or romantic feelings ever came my way. I was the girl that knew sports, played sports, knew a thing or too about cars, and didn't mind getting dirty.  Around the girls I was not comfortable in my own skin.  I felt they were always judging me, looking at me, talking about my horrible acne, or "scuzzing" me off.  I had been made fun of for my acne, being flat chested, being a tom-boy, and even called conceited.  These things were my own insecurities at the time.  I think every kid has them at some point in their life.  I became a little bitter thing in high school, and couldn't wait to be done.

I did get a steady boyfriend when I was nineteen.  He was the ONLY other boy I ever dated, kissed, and felt butterflies about. So yes...my first kiss was when I was nineteen.  I really liked him a lot.  I had grown up with him, and we spent a lot of time together before his mission.  We had been friends since kindergarten, and looking back I think that our relationship at the time was one where two people may be such good friends that they try to become more, but in the end things end up just being weird.  Anyway needless to say, I waited for him to serve his mission and two years later he came home and broke my heart.  He has since been through two divorces and has experienced his own earthly trials.  He admitted to my a few years back how sorry he had been that we didn't stay together.  We have reconciled and are friends to this day, but have decided it is best to stay that way.

Drew came back into my life in the spring of 2001.  I had served a mission in Los Angeles California Spanish speaking.  I came back and took a job at Barnes Banking Co. in Kaysville as a teller.  I was a teller a couple months when I became promoted to work in the loan processing department.  One day I received a phone call from a woman with the last name of Call.  I don't know what possessed me to ask if she had a son named Drew, but I asked, and the next thing I knew Drew was standing in the lobby of the bank and asked me out.  I almost didn't believe it was him when I saw him.  He had changed SO much!!  He was so handsome.  I agreed to go out with him, and our first date was October 23, 2001.

Chapter 1

I've decided that I would address these posts as chapters.  Only because I need to keep track of what I've posted so that I don't repeat myself.  Also, as our lives unfold it does unfold like chapters in a book.  Each chapter of life brings new events, trials, obstacles, triumphs, heartache, and happiness.  It is my belief, at least with the limited books I've read, that every chapter brings something different.  Different situations, thoughts, challenges, and accomplishments.  As is life.

So Chapter 1....

These writings are for my children.  My two girls need to have record of where they came from, and they need to know their Mom's story.  Their Mom's story of life as it is now and has been lived.  I promise nothing proper when it comes to grammar or spelling.  My thoughts will jump around, and my thought process is nothing but bouncing off the walls.  Holding my attention has never been easy.  From the time I was little I have been a great multi-tasker.  Probably because I never seem to have only one thought in my mind at once.  I picture my brain like a bingo machine.  The big spinner that holds all the balls.  You've all played.  Each one of those brightly colored balls is an idea or thought in my head.  The machine is constantly spinning, and finally it picks one particular ball, or in my case, one thought.  However, that thought (ball) doesn't stay very long.  It's a fast paced game going on up there.  Talking too quickly before thinking things through; I've mastered that!!  I have put my foot in my mouth more than once.  I have learned to slow the bingo game down a bit as I have gotten older.  I really try to think about my words, especially if I'm talking to someone, before I repeat or say them.  I've always been quick to emotions.  I wear them on the surface, however, there has been a long chapter of my life where I kept all emotions silent.  Tucked deep, deep, deep beneath the surface.  Medication helped keep those feelings in check.  Hiding as though under a big rock that nobody could move.  Those emotions laid quiet.  Hibernating for almost 10 years.

If you've ever turned a rock over there are lots of things going on under there.  It's almost like a secret city that you never knew existed.  Different insects crawling around madly, different plants or algae growing, a great darkness hiding everything, and the weight of the large boulder pressing everything living lower and lower into the ground.  Until you roll that rock over you never really know how crazy it is underneath.  Everything looks normal on the surface.  The rock looks sturdy, firm, and confident in its resting place.  But when the rock is lifted from its spot all the craziness and madness is very clear for everyone to see.  Today whenever I see large rocks or boulders I still put this analogy together with my married life.  For me it was a cover.  Just like the sound rock proud in its place is really a cover for what is underneath.  It is hiding something.  That is the job of the rock.  To be the protector of everything weak underneath.

I went to Junior High and High School with my ex-husband.  My first memory of him was in 7th or 8th grade.  He would walk down the hall and say hello to everyone.  Although I was impressed that he knew so many kids' names, I thought to myself he was a little weird.  We all know that kid in school.  Just a little different, but very nice, helpful, and sincere.  The kind that never seems to have a "best" friend, but has lots of "friends."  Everyday after math I would go to my locker before lunch to put my books away before heading to the cafeteria.  Drew's English class was in the same hall as my math class and without fail everyday he would pass my locker and say "Hi Sara."  Now, I'll admit this openly.  I was not the sweetest little thing in junior high school.  In fact I was a little self centered, awkward, dermatologically challenged, and quite the tom-boy.  Bottom line....I thought I was too good for this nerd! Really my friends I know it is hard to believe but I was not the best person back in those days, but that's another story.

Time went by.  We had classes together but nothing really came of anything.  You see I discovered sports in junior high and they became my life.  Whether on tv or after school I was watching, playing, or practicing sports.  Mainly basketball.  I didn't feel so awkward when I played ball.  I felt as though I belonged somewhere, and it helped that I was actually good at it.  I came from an athletic family.  Siblings that knew how to move with a ball made it easy for me to want to follow in their footsteps.  To this day, I will never forget my dad getting into a pretty heated argument over a foul call with a referee during a city game.  I can say that I have not yet gotten to that point at some of Ellie's games, but I make no promises.  Playing sports and school became my "job" until I went to Weber State in 1996.  While I was pretending to be Michael Jordan, Drew was in a whole different crowd at school.  The drama performances and choir groups were his thing.  Back in the early 1990's (at least in my mind) choir and drama people were total geeks.  (I would just like to apologize to my friends who were also in these groups in high school.  Like I said before, I thought I knew everything back then.) I was under this misrepresentation that all drama and choir people were either completely stuck up or full on dorks.  I never have acquired a liking for the arts, but this misrepresentation I am speaking of was "The Word according to Sara."  I have since stopped believing that all boys who want to sing and dance must be gay.  It was a narrow and shallow point of view don't you think. :)