Stupidity.

Let me just start by stating that I'm overwhelmed, exhausted and fat from the holidays.

Something happened recently that I just need to talk about.  I'm not looking for a fight or a confrontation.  If that were the case, I would be more specific in my delivery of what I'm about to preach.  I'm writing this here because this is my safe space.  I've chewed on what I'm about to say for about five days now without conclusion and I've decided that I just have to throw it out into the universe in order to discontinue carrying my thoughts around on my shoulders.

I was recently told that I "knew nothing" (a roundabout way of being called stupid) in front of many people that mean very much to me simply because my opinion was not the same as theirs.

I didn't say a word in retaliation.  In fact, no one did.
I have to tell you that the fact that I, nor anyone else, did not chime in to stand up for me is not the problem here.  The problem is a person feeling entitled or justified enough to say such a thing to a grown adult expressing opinion.

As an adult with higher education, an established-ish career, financial stability and a level head, this is not okay.  And you know what?  If I were a child without all of the above, a teenager with or without all of the above, or an adult without all of the above, it is NOT okay.

I truly have so much more to say than this but I'm not prepared to make my first blog post in many months be a total rant session full of negativity and haste.

Just please:  You have the ability to filter what you expel into the world.  Do so.  There is already enough negativity and hate.  Look around.  If all you have to offer is more of the previously stated, please stand in the background.  Don't make yourself dominate.  Walk away.  Be better.  Do better.

Period.

Weighted But Weightless

God, my heart hurts.
It hurts with happiness, it hurts with sadness.  It hurts because it's overwhelmed and also because it's so underwhelmed.  It hurts with reality but more so with possibility.
There's something pushing against my chest, making it hard to breathe.
There's a hole in my stomach, eating it away.
I'm not writing this post as a sob story, a cry for help or even for someone to read.  I'm writing it because I need to expel just how I feel into the universe.
Inevitably, I'm always waiting for the next thing.  But I fear for the day there will be no more "next thing" and I actually have to sit in my feelings and absorb them.  It will be sink or swim.
I'm okay.  Really, I am.  I am just spent.  I'm exhausted.
I need sleep.  And more hugs.  And calorie-free wine.

Changes

The ebbs and flows of life.
Goodness,  I have no idea what to write about.  I was just speaking with someone the other day about the weight of feeling like I need to write when I'm happy.  Words come naturally with sadness.  That's easy and poetic.  The difficult and humbling experience comes from writing when we're happy.  Or at least content.  I suppose that's what you could call this place.
I'm overflowing with emotions, truly.  They present themselves randomly, evolving without rhyme or reason.
Call me a fountain.  But be prepared to stand back or you'll be drenched.

A rock and a hard place.

I had a thought today that refuses to leave my head and is keeping constant tears in my eyes.

I don't want to lay it all out like dirty laundry, but a lot has happened in the last year and half.  As a person who doesn't let go of things...ever...every single moment is on my shoulders.  I am teetering from one side to the other under the burden.  It has been physically impossible to not let this effect me.  

I keep telling myself, "Once you feel better, you'll go back to the real you.  Once this is all in the rear view mirror, you'll be back to normal.  It won't be so damn hard.  This isn't the real you.  You are better than this.  You're cheerful, you're funny, you're heartfelt.  One day it will go back."

At what point do I need to be admitting that this is the way I am now?  That there is no going back.  

I've let it break me.  I've let it heavy my heart, hurt my spirit, poison my thoughts, lace my words with venom.  I have not won here. I have so sorely lost. 

I'm back...

Wow, the last time I even glanced at this blog was over a month ago.  Is it possible that time moves that quickly?  I literally cannot keep up.  I mean literally.  When my alarm goes off in the morning, my mind is still processing the previous night's events.  That's something that fades away, right?

I've been debating what to write about in this post.  Obviously, a lot has happened.  I cannot decide if writing about it all will hurt or provide relief.

I've experienced death before.  A void in my life that will forever remain vacant.  I was too young to understand the process, but old enough to remember the details.  Old enough to realize that one day, those details would be enough to keep me connected.  This time was so different.  I'm old enough to understand the process, but fully unable to grasp the details.  The sheer weight of sorrow I hold in my heart for Steven prevents me from fully acknowledging last moments, last laughs, last memories...they are too heavy.  Even dwelling on this paragraph makes me feel like I can't quite get a full breathe.
There are flowers in the sunny spots of our living room, slowly wilting and decaying.  There's a plant that appears eternal and is full of butterfly ornaments, decorating a  once bare corner.  There's a small urn on our bedside table, suspended in a period of grief, as we attempt to find a place that provides as much beauty and remembrance as she deserves.  Here, we will linger.

Day fifty-four: This Weekend

What makes today a good day, you ask?

Well, I'll be picking up my mother from the Omaha airport around 7:05 p.m.

THAT makes today a good day.

This radiant beam of wisdom will be by my side through a FULL weekend of wedding planning.  We're talking hour-to-hour appointments booked through weekend.
THANK GOODNESS!

This will be wedding dress weekend.  So!  If you have a moment, send some nice thoughts my way.
As I told my bridesmaids, I've been dreading this day since my first diet at age eight.
Have a happy weekend!

Day fifty-three: Therapy

A year ago, I met a person whom I could finally open up to about everything.  Whom not only takes what is coming out of my mouth in strides, but changes it into a language that I can better understand.  The ability to do so, change what I'm saying and make me understand it better, is a trait that not many possess.  And I was SO thankful for her.
But then I got sick and a snowball of unexpectedly gut-wrenching events began.  AKA 2015.
Before I could even get a word in edge-wise, I'm buried deep.
Let me just say that I am VERY good at keeping it together in public.  I even catch myself doing so while talking to her.  I learned this trait early; that the world should not know your secrets, your emotions.  But behind closed doors, in front of the most important people in my life...I am a mess.
I've touched on this briefly in several other posts.  But let me assure you, I am not over exaggerating and it is f***ing ugly.
Onto the topic of today's.
There were several points brought up to me recently that helped me immensely.  I figured I'd share them, in case someone else needed to hear them as well.

• There is such a thing as "new normal" and it's ever-changing.  I chuckled at this phrase as she spoke the word.  I recently wrote a post about my normal no longer being present.  She just spun it into a prettier appearance.  There is no longer a normal as my mind holds it.  But, there is "new normal".  I'm learning to accept this and grow with it.  But that doesn't make me any less scared or fully of melancholy.
• It's all about perspective.  Not only my perspective of the situations at hand, but my perspective of situations as they arise.  I am an "emotion-jumper".  I react and then think.  I'm wincing at having typed that and planning to expel it into the universe.  I'm working on it and I've been working on it since before I can remember.  It's part of me and if I become lazy and give into myself, I get emotionally ugly.  It's all about my perspective...which requires me to take a second.
• I need to redefine what a good day is to me.  This was, by far, the biggest message I took away today.  I am a planner.  I have a schedule, to-do lists, checklists...everything.  Before I even set my feet on the floor in the morning, I've already got the next 12 hours planned out.  Combining this characteristic with my sense of what "normal" should be equals unfulfilled.  I need to take smaller strides.  I need to relish in the simple acts of what makes a day "GOOD".  Because I am missing the point entirely.  Today I woke up feeling good with one of my favorite songs stuck in my head.  That made it a "GOOD" morning.

I know this post is chaotic.  This blog has been chaotic at best lately.  I'm trying.