The Breath of Life

"What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset." ~ Crowfoot

Tonight has been a peaceful and tranquil evening. I was given a great gift tonight by a friend. A magnetic word "Memories" to hang on the wall. Since it is magnetic I am able to place photos on it. I already have the perfect place to put it! In conjunction another journal, beautifully bound with a mother and child on the cover. Warms my heart.

Additionally photos of a peaceful place were taken and shared with me. I am anxious to develop them so I may be surrounded by a tranquil feeling that gets lost with all of my muddle and the day to day living.

Each breath is a choice. We choose to live each day. The breath of life is within each of us, and it is these little things that we should be mindful of to keep making that choice. Enjoy that choice. The crisp smell of rain. Cold shallow breaths of the icy winter air. Goose-bumps and chills. Daisies, daffodils, dandelions. Laughter of children playing. Watching an elderly couple hold hands. These are the breaths of life that keep us alive.

By being mindful of these miraculous events we feed our mind, body, and souls with compassion, kindness, and peace. Thus bringing onto the world these emotions along with love and acceptance.

I am choosing to surround myself with these items that bring me my breath of life. Perhaps we all should.

Alliteration

This past week I have had two people point out to me that when listing a group of words that I feel best describes me or how I feel about myself at that point in time I tend to do so using alliteration.

Examples:

Prohibited, pathetic, poignant
Ignorant, insignificant, isolated, infinitesimal
Dismal, disastrous, depressed, desolate

In reading through my list I also find that I am using obviously negative adjectives. Through the process of relearning how to think, I believe I need to do a small word exercise to change that perspective perhaps. Here is my small attempt at positive alliteration.

Productive, Painter, Parent, Pleasant, Placid
Imaginative, Inspired, Intuitive
Diligent, Different, Desiree

While my list my not be correct and true all the time, I am still these things. The last of them being Desiree, me. I have been rereading some of my blogs tonight with a couple of friends. Humor is among my writings of struggle. Compassion is apparent. I am in there, somewhere. I will find me yet. Freedom to be myself or find out who that is appears to be the key. This is a reoccurring thought in my writings, and through the voices of two friends. Two people I would like to add, that I would not be speaking with  if it weren't for my downfall and struggles. My murky waters do bring clarity at times. The key is to hold on to that clarity and embrace it.

My home is in a process of becoming my sanctuary. Slow and steady, I will emerge. My house will be organized and represent me. Maybe through that representation I will figure out who that is.

"I think you have to  know who you are. Get to know the monster that lives in your soul, dive deep into your soul and explore it." ~ Tori Amos

This fairy remembers she has wings, but the use of them is still a mystery.

Lost In Thought

Yes, I am lost in thought. Being so lost means choppy writting. A lack of a smooth flow of words always makes me feel ignorant, uneducated, unable. Apologies ahead of time as you try to read through this.

This Christmas adventure has brought some amazing bonding times. It also has brought on some not so good vibes. Yesterday my sister Lizz, Nathan, and I went to Underworld to give my sister her first tattoo.

The excitement of bonding with a little sister is amazing, and until recently a struggle. As we sat and joked, looking through photos and ideas, I felt a close bond to her. This is an amazing thing to be there for, to give. A work of art that will forever hold a memory every time we look at it. I am proud and thankful of her decision of her design, ploacement, and how well she did under the needle. The only thing missing was our other sister. Our piercer was a good sport and stayed two hours after closing to accomodate us.

Of course the whole event was documented with my camera and I have some amazing pictures. To bond is to bring together, to renew, to hold, to love, to know, to accept.

They say good things come to those who wait. Well, affter almost twelve years I finally got the piercing I have been dreaming of. This is the only piercing I have been nervous of ever. Well worth the wait! Even this was documented by my sister and trusty camera.

I cannot help but feel through this bonding with my sister, that others were hurt or felt out of place. Bonding with certain people have been hard for me. I am still struggling with so many thoughts, wants, needs. With the year comming to an end I cannot help but to think about all that has transpried these past tweleve months. What I am thankful for, what I dread, what has brought tears and laughter.

One new niece, one new nephew. Loss of connections, a renewal of connections. A new dear friend, or maybe penpal, some things are not to be labled. A tragic loss. Three new piercings, no more hair. Memories that have surfaced. Feelings that I thought were gone and lost, coming back and tearing at me. It is amazing what we convience ourselves of, what we bury deep inside. Trying to lose it in transition. Some things will never resurface. Others, we only hope and wish. Then it hits you hard.

Lost in thought. As I sit and look around me, I see my family that I have missed so much. The family I ran from long ago. Things are different in many ways. In others, it is the same. The love, the undeniable acceptance, the lack of judgement. The safety of being surrounded and not alone. Yet, I am still terribly alone. My mind lost in thought.

Time to try and surface, pull myself up and out of the muddle mess of my mind. Time to play, converse, and enjoy the family I love.

Seeds of Perfection

Within all beings there is a seed of perfection; but compassion is required to activate that seed inherent in our hearts and minds.

• 12/18/10 4:28 AM Tweet by the Dalai Lama

Perfection. The state or quality of being or becoming perfect. The highest degree of proficiency, skill, or excellence, as in some art. A perfect embodiment or example of something. A quality, trait, or feature of the highest degree of excellence. The highest or most NEARLY perfect degree of a quality or trait.The act or fact of perfecting.

Perfect. Conforming absolutely to the description or definition of an ideal type. Excellent or complete beyond practical or theoretical improvement. 

Excellent. Possessing outstanding quality or superior merit. Extraordinary.

I never really felt that anything or anyone could be perfect. We all have flaws that make up who we are, it is a part of us. Perhaps though I am viewing this completely wrong.

If it were not for those flaws to make us unique from one another, we would not be individuals. The very definition of Perfection includes the highest or most NEARLY perfect degree of a quality or trait. That inclusion of nearly opens up so many doors for me. 

As we view our shortfalls, talents, should haves and will dos, we are veiwing ourselves with that ever critical eye of judgement. That ideal of perfection a goal we know we will never reach. What if, just possibly perfection is possible? I do not mean in the sense of physical appearance, or the state of never making mistakes. The perfection I am refering to is that of ones heart and mind. 

Once again compassion has came up in my mind. Specifically compassion to oneself. Through compassion I can view myself in a state of perfection. That ideal of perfection is a very personal definition and I do not believe that one definition fits for all people. 

Nearly perfect can include my continual self emprovment and awareness. If I successfully am continually working on me and doing so with compassion, then I can achieve that perfection.

Perhaps I am way off base on this one, but enlightment is possible. It may take many lives, but I am working on it!

Kindness

Random acts of kindness grow and multiply, a ripple in the pond touching all that is within the waters reach. Kindness is the soft drops of water kissing the surface of the blades of grass in the early morning light. Nourishing, refreshing, rejovenating.

“A kind heart is a fountain of gladness, making everything in its vicinity freshen into smiles.” ~ Washington Irving 

If we all were to have hearts filled of kindness we would be walking temples of peace and love. This may sound a bit utopian for many, but our very auroas glow and send a warmth or a chill to others around. This can produce other auroas, souls, emotions, people, etc.. to change with that temperature, to change with that kindness and compassion or with the lack of.

We are thrown into the real world with the routine of daily living, or to many surviving, with so many pressures, timelines, needs, desires, obligations, all of which are roots of our own suffering. Constantly our mental lists of what needs to be done, what tasks are not completed, what needs to be done tomorrow are ever growing. Consuming our minds, our energy. If we were to sit down though, and note anything that is pleasing, every tiny little thing our energy may become rejuvenated, refreshed like the blade of grass soaking the morning dew. 

Many times the lack of appreciation shown to us for our kindness and good deeds bogs us down. We must remember though that the more important aspect of kindness is the cultivation in yourself of compassion and generosity. 

I believe kindness is the easiest and hardest act to bestow upon others. A simple smile, hello and how are you can go a long way. Yet we walk past the gentlemen walking his dog without any acknowledgement. We ignore the young girl upset in the park. Grumble about the mother with noisey kids waiting in front of us in line at the store. Sneer at the odd teenager with that strange haircut and piercing. No acknowldegment, no kindness. 

The hardest part about kindness, is that shown to yourself. We are our own worse critic.

As part of a meditation technique I have tried to change the kindness I show to myself hoping that it will spread like wildfire to radiate that kindness to others as well. A simple exercise of hope and goodwill. 

Sitting on the floor I close my eyes. I feel the heaviness of my breath that fills my lungs and I try hard to imagine my lungs expand to such a great fullfillment that they can actually feel my ribs embrace them. In essence I am hugging my lungs with my ribs. Yes you can laugh if you want, but for a moment pretend here with me.

I then try to draw my face, not in detail, just the contour of my face. I do this mentally pretending my hand is holding a stick and I am sitting inthe sand. I draw myself in the sand. Once done I stand up, look down at the little girl who drew that person in the sand and I hug her. I tell her that it is the most amazing picture in the sand I have ever seen. Why do I tell her this? Becuase this is what I would tell my daughter. 

Perhaps if we all excerised a little kindness to ourselves it would naturally allow us to be kind to others.

Freedom

"A friend is someone who lets you have total freedom to be yourself." ~ Jim Morrison

This past year has shown me a few things. One of them being that I do have people I am close to that not only receive my love, but returns it. That I have the friends I have sought for so long in my life.

When you become completely exasperated, breathless, and lost you end up chasing shadows. These are not typical shadows, rather shadows of the mind. Your own mind. There is no manual, no guide that can help you maneuver the path of least resistance. You only have the tools that you were taught, earned or given. We cannot define what these tools are until we need them and either have them or don't.

I was recently brought to tears by one "friend". She sent me a text saying that a country song by Sugarland reminded her of me, "Little Miss". Never hearing this song I went to YouTube and found it. As I read the lyrics and heard them sung, a knot was stuck into my chest. Heavy weight suspended in my rib cage pressing against my lungs sucking out my breath. Uncontrollably I cried.

I could not tell you how many times I have heard, "you are such a strong person". It almost makes me sick to my stomach. Seemed to me as an excuse for not really being there for me when I was weak. Truthfully, it was because I did not see me as strong.

Those words crossing the screen, reading them, I was astonished to see that someone saw good in me. That I am truly not a bad, lost, desolate soul. Strength does reside here within me. Denial, fear, I am not sure which, kept me from believing it, from seeing it.

Some actions cause a huge domino effect. Usually it is the smallest, tiniest action that will send a whole world spiraling into a direction that you never before thought  possible. We can either ride the tide, or exhaust ourselves trying to fight the current.

I want to take this time to say thank you to those who stood by my side. No judgement, just love and acceptance. A couple were surprising and uplifting. Others were the steady and true that I knew deep down would not give up. The common thread was the fact that I am free to be me. You can either walk out the door, or shave my head for me. At the end of the day I know this, I love you all that much more, those of you who stayed and helped sweep up the floor. Metaphorically speaking of course.

At first I was fearful. Afraid I would be living in a world that I would have to continue to hide myself from. Amazingly, I have many who embrace the eccentric person I am. Even as they shake their head as I do it. It is that head shake that says, wow, why would I expect anything else. Always accompanied by a smile or a smirk.

Now I will take this freedom and re-center myself spiritually. The freedom to me, from me.

Waking up this morning, I smile. 

Twenty-four brand new hours are before me.

 I vow to live fully in each moment 

and to look at all beings with eyes of compassion. 

(Thich Nhat Hanh, Present Moment Wonderful Moment)

Through practice of mindful living I will breathe in and out and feel joy and peace. I will not suppress myself causing suffering. I will embrace my inner Buddha, and hold it dear. Embrace the suffering that I cannot control, and find the insight needed to end the suffering I can. I will use my eyes of compassion I have for others, on myself.

Thank you for letting me be me, again.

Light and Dark

My hair is maybe a quarter of an inch long now. The complete baldness is slowly fading away and being replaced by a fresh new texture. In most places it is soft, some coarse. There appears to be no rhyme or reason for the direction it grows outward toward.

We often view ourselves with a large amount of prejudice. Comparing ourselves to so many other outlets such as people or the media. This is a misleading practice that I for one cannot seem to escape from doing.

The misleading effects of light and dark are like the absence of truth with prejudice. Light and dark construes the reality of our surroundings, leaving us only to trust appearances; these false appearances are like prejudice.

Dawn shows a sliver of light upon the ground, trees,  and houses, making the shadows flow into an abstruse shape, deceiving and defying the true shape of what they really are.

Daylight finally breaks through and now the light shapes the objects we see so we can define them. One knows were the table sits. Where the books are on the desk. If the door is open or closed. However, one still does not see the specifics. What color of cloth is lying on the table. The titles and authors of the books that are sitting on the desk. None of this is apparent. One sees that the object is there, but not what it truly is. 

Dusk comes and stretches out the shadows once again, giving the same effect of defiance as dawn did.

When darkness finally comes, one cannot see anything. Bumping into counters. Tripping over rocks. Receiving not a clue of what lies beside you. So you take out your flashlight and focus it upon the ground and the objects so as to not trip. Now, however, you are being deceived even more. Concentrating only on what you put the sharp beam of light upon. Nothing else around you.

The light blinds a person's view of things. Just as our own prejudicial thoughts of ourselves and others.

I find myself looking at a mirror more often now than ever before. Previously it has always been a brief glance. Is my hair in place? Makeup on without smears or smudges? What is in my eye? Allowing only a beam of light to hit certain parts to be apparent. This is not just with the physical appearance of ourselves, but the emotional and mental as well. We view slivers in full light without noticing the detail, or portions in a distorted light form.

Now I allow my eyes to trace the contour of my face. I am searching for the author of my book. Physically speaking I believe I am becoming more secure or at least more accepting of many of my attributes. It is a step of my ultimate and never ending goal of changing the way I think. How I think.

Shoppers in the store have stopped and stared at my lack of locks. Some look at me with pity. I only imagine they think I am fighting cancer. Others allow their lips to turn into small smiles before turning away so I may not see them laugh. Inside I am only observing and documenting these reactions. Personally it has not had the emotional effect on me as I thought it would.

Perhaps this shaving of my head is a cleansing that I needed. A way to look beyond what I see in the light or dark without my tainting of prejudice. The hatred or disappointment that seems to be there inside of me, who I am, or the lack of who I am.

The Peacock And The Dentist

My Sister in law, Angie, took Sandra to the dentist on November 17th. The story I am about to tell you is second hand, put together with the information given to me by my husband, Angie, and what I could hear from listening to half of the phone conversation.

Sandra called her Daddy and told him that she went to the dentist and it was a blast. She was a Peacock! (I later inquired to Angie about the Peacock and the only thing she could think of was that the book they read had a peacock in it.)

"I sat in the chair and opened my mouth and it was bright so I got to wear sunglasses. They cleaned my teeth and fixed my one tooth and it is all better. I also got to watch a movie. They gave me stickers, a pencil, and a a piece of paper to eat at Applebee's. I had fun, I like the dentist."

When I spoke to Angie, I was told my little girl did great. She didn't fuss or move. She sat still and watched Cinderella until it was all done. They cleaned her teeth and did some work on a small cavity.

For her first time at the dentist I am in awe. My little girl is so brave. I am far from brave. I hate the dentist...yikes. What an amazing Peacock. Perhaps I should be a Peacock then maybe my next visit to the dentist will go just as good.

Dominating My Emotions

"A man who is master of himself can end a sorrow as easily as he can invent a pleasure. I don't want to be at the mercy of my emotions. I want to use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them." ~ Oscar Wilde

Wow, what a powerful statement! I want to first break down two words; enjoy and dominate.

Dominate (verb) - 1. to rule over; govern; control 2. to rule; exercise control; predominate 3. to occupy a commanding or elevated position

Enjoy  (verb) - 1. to experience with joy; take pleasure in 2. to find or experience pleasure for oneself

This comes back to the circle of my theme, changing the way we think. I have spoken before about David Foster Wallace and his commencement speech. While I will not list the quote again, he basically says we need to see view the world we are in. Let me remind you of the fish in the water and not knowing what water is.

If we do not know what our life is, how can we be the masters of ourselves? Furthermore how can we be true to ourselves, who we are? We need to live each day as it is our own. Additionally we need to do what will make us happy. How else would you want to live your last day?

Another person I am going to go back to is Thich Nhat Hanh and his "The Heart of the Buddha's Teaching".  "The fist first kind of suffering is 'the suffering of suffering' (dukkha dukkhata), the suffering associated with unpleasant feelings, like the pain of a toothache, losing your temper, or feeling too cold on a winter's day." pg 19.

Now here is a concept that is hard to grasp. Even impossible to remember at times of suffering. We need to recognize suffering when it is present and to recognize joy when suffering is absent. How often do we truly do this in our lives? Do we complain and dwell on another problem in our lives without acknowledging the other joys in our lives? I know I do.

"When we have a toothache, we know that not having a toothache is happiness. But later, when we don't have a toothache, we don't treasure our non-toothache. Practicing mindfulness helps us learn to appreciate the well-being that is already there." pg 41.

What a recurring theme. Changing the way we think, how we perceive. Being more mindful of ourselves and the world we live in is not an easy task. I know this is something that I must learn, practice. If I am ever to get over my resentment and hatred, I must be more mindful.

To me being more mindful is to take control. Dominating my thoughts and emotions so I can enjoy not only life, but who I am. My last little episode of shaving my head has left me thinking about who I am once again. What is it that will make me happy.  I know what my heart says, what my mind says. Sometimes the strength is missing and it is hard to grasp the courage, support and understanding of such actions. Living each day as your last. Tell those you love, that you love them each and every day. You never know when it will be the last. Find the joys, the absence of suffering in everything you can.

"Freedom is the will to be responsible to ourselves." ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

My Only Thing

I feel as though I owe an explanation for the recent event that has taken place. My poor mother I can only imagine how she feels right now.

The storm, I thought had past. I must have only been in the eye of it. Last night, after a much stressful and cornering weekend, I cracked. Life as we know it is hard. I get that. Nothing comes without a price. We all have our demons. I could go on with these metaphorical and sensible items. Life just sucks at times.

With my loss of control, my ability to make my own decisions I was done. Done with life, done with my situation. Not having a choice in what you need, want, feel is right with you life, is indescribable. I get that life is harder for many others than myself. Life is tough and it takes work. It takes work to reinvent the way you view life, the way you think and perceive.

The only thing I had left that I had a say in was what I could do to my own body. Hence the hair is gone. So much more would have been if Nathan would have allowed it to be. Right now I just need to be in charge of me, the ability to know that I can do what I feel is right. What I know is right. Many of the people who struggle to live in a society that deems them abnormal, that try to control them, they simply perish from the world. Their very being is slowly killed and taken from them. What type of life is it to live if you cannot pursue the life that would make you whole and happy.

I am astonished that so many have responded to my outburst. More so the fact that these people are the ones I went to school with. Thank you for showing me how blessed I am. This thought is something I will try to hold onto as I continue my struggle to survive and reach my goal of what I desire for myself.

There goes my being a good mother. For the first time I have put myself before them. That is the only thing I regret about my loss of hair. That and how hard it is going to be to get a job now.

Here is to striving for what you want in life, to finding yourself and the continual survival of just surviving.

"We all suffer alone in the real world; true empathy's impossible" ~ David Foster Wallace

The Turning of the Waters

The past forty eight hours has been an awful turning of the waters inside me. My muddled mess of a mind is reaching out and pulling all of the glorious items around me into this black hole of desperation and pain.  Working on knowing yourself, and loving yourself is a never ending battle, or adventure depending on the way my mind views it at the time.

We all hold baggage. That is the plain simple truth. The heavy load we carry contains the positives and the negatives of the life we have experienced and the expectations of the outcomes of what may come in the future because of them. Some of my memories that I find to bring smiles and comfort are amazing. I remember making snowmen with my mom and sister Crystal out of marshmellows and pretzels. Playing in the cornfields with peers in school. Skinny dipping in the fishing whole in Yuma. Playing Skibo with friends. When Tribbett dressed up in a dress for my Spanish video. Sitting at Bernie's with friends drinking beer. Going to the lake with friends as they "experience" life. The first time I saw the ocean with Nathan. Just to name a few.

Other memories are the darker ones, the ones that suck us dry and spit us out. It is taking these memories, these emotions and learning to forgive first ourselves, then others for them. Some things are easier to let go than others. A few we even work out, or at least we think we do and when history repeats itself we are thrown into the depths of hell trying to claw our way out. Rape, broken hearts, friends lost to death, drug abuse, or other life experiences that so many of us go through. They all leave their mark.

The past couple of days have been hell. Arguing with my husband, the attempt to end one chapter so I may survive to heal and live the next chapter. It has been hell, I feel as though I have been cornered, a cat stuck in the very back of the room full of sleeping dogs and rocking chairs.

Many turn to faith to help them heal and move on. Some of this healing appears to be just pretending the events never happened. Some of this healing is true healing. This morning I was able to attend a brunch with my Sister in Law at her church. The church is celebrating its 100th year. I found this to be an amazing event. Sweet people, wonderful voices singing in the glory that they believe in. A strong connection between these women in the congregation.

I am still not for "organized religion", but the thought of being a Buddhist Christian is more appealing to me now than before. Some argue that you cannot be that, I argue you can. That debate is for another time, another blog.

With faith we can overcome so much, with faith we can heal. Now when I say faith, I mean faith in general. Faith in yourself, faith in God, faith in your abilities, any faith.

My anger is still so prevelant, so strong. I must get away from the source of that anger in order to heal from it. I try to be a compassionate person, I try to be patient and understanding. Lately though I am far from that. This upsets me. I just want to look in the mirror again, I mean look in the mirror and not be disguisted with what I see. A person that allows herself to be violated, used, and continuously unworthy. The only way to do this is by finally truly forgiving myself of so many things. To look at my baggage and decide to cleanse my soul of it.

Working on oneself is a continual process, a life long process.

As is my typical way of closing a thought, here is the quote of the day.

"Look within. Within is the fountain of good, and it will ever bubble up, if thou wilt ever dig." ~ Marcus Aurelius

Hope, Anger, Courage

A dear friend posted this on my Facebook. I have looked at it off and on all day. Sitting here trying to wrap my sense of understanding around the thoughts that are plaguing my mind, I am re-centered around this. Such a comfort a friend can be, when no words are there to help, a whole string of them appear.

This anger has boiled and festered inside for way to long. Slowly penetrating my very being, the person I wish to be, and the person I am currently. Devouring every bit of good and kindness out of me leaving a desolate and barren aura that kills or drives away all good things from me.

This simple phrase has encouraged me to see that this anger is pivotal in the development, growth, and direction of me. This emotion that I place such a negative label upon can have such an amazing impact on healing and development if we mold this emotion the right way.

Courage, we all need courage. The ability to do something that may be fearful, scary, unknown. Move on, continue with life, make change.

I have no idea why before now, I never considered these two emotions linked so closely as this. Logically speaking it makes perfect sense. If molded correctly Anger can lead to Courage. By definition, Hope is 1) the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best; 2) to feel that something desired may happen. Without the desire for things to change, we cannot have Hope. If we do not face our Anger, we may never find the Courage to change it, to grow.

Here is to facing our Anger, finding our Courage, and believing in our Hopes and dreams.

"God puts rainbows in the clouds so that each of us - in the dreariest and most dreaded moments - can see a possibility of hope." ~ Maya Angelou.

The Stumbling of Strength

It has been ages since I have allowed any thoughts to flow from my mind onto this Mac. My travels away from the house and the "safety" of hiding from the world has done me good.

Myself, my son, and my daughter were in a car for over 40 hours. I am completely insane to want to spend that much time in a car with a 3 and 1 year old! The experience of it all was amazing, enlightening, and life changing.

We left Ulysses, Kansas and traveled first to Branson, Missouri. Spent a very short time with a few friends there. Met their wonderful son who is just a few months younger than Logan. They are friends of Nathan's. This is a family so rooted in the beliefs of God. Amazingly sweet and caring. I missed them the moment we left.

It was also the moment that I left them that I knew what I needed to do. What decision I had to make.

From Branson onto Knoxville. My admiration for my cousin is never ending. Such a strong, intelligent, compassionate, and honest person. Her ability to multitask and handle the hurdles of life never ceases to amaze me. Four wonderful days of gaining strength, encouragement. I do not think she realizes what an amazing person she is. I have always looked up to her and I am glad that in my time of my search for me, she was so willing to have me there.

The time spent taking pictures, conversing, watching the kids, and just observing her family is a memory I will forever hold dear. If you are reading this, I love you.

Leaving Knoxville we headed onto Nashville to visit someone I have not seen since I was little. I reflected on so many things in that short drive. I had made my decision long ago, now I had the strength to face it.

Nashville brought a comfort. Seeing this man and his family made me feel loved. This is someone I have not seen in years and they accepted me into their home and loved me as I am. As I am...what I concept I have learned this trip. Discussing with him the heavy issues weighing upon my heart, seeing the look upon his face. I knew I had been disappointing myself more than anyone else.

Nashville to Columbia. A long drive, more thoughts, more stumbling upon strength. Stumbling upon a reflection of what is, could be, should be. I almost skipped Columbia. Almost. I have been in constant thought of this man. Right after the storm hit, I had come across a picture of us together on one of my visits to Columbia to see the man I consider my brother, Shawn, and his best friend Russell. Staring at that picture, that smile, I wanted that back, I wanted me back. Who ever the hell that is.

So I did not skip Columbia. I needed to see this person just as much as I needed to see everyone else on my path. Watching our kids play together and accept one another was just awe inspiring, I am immediately in love with these amazing children. They fill me will laughter and hope, with will.

While  I am still in the process of formulating words for all that has happened on my travels and at certain spots in particular, I am thankful for all of it. Stumbling across emotions, strengths, pieces of myself that I did not know even existed. We have to stumble and fall in order to stand up and brush the dirt off of our knees, cleanse our wounds, and heal.

From Columbia to Meade, Kansas where I dropped off my children onto Denver to spend time with childhood friends. I spent the next day with my youngest sister, mother, and grandmother in Greeley, Colorado. My Great-Grandfather was having surgery. I believe this time together, as short as it was, was a healing process for all of us in a way.

Now back in Ulysses, I reflect. What has happened? The unexpected, in more ways than one.

This trip has shown me I am a decent mother, no one was lost, hurt, I did not lose my cool and make anyone walk home. :) I am capable of being on my own, I am capable of being strong and doing what is in my heart and mind, what I feel is the right thing for me.

I have been filled with anger and resentment for way too long. My feeling of being disrespected and used will not go away. I cannot get past the incident that has opened up so many scars. Being tired of insecurity, lack of safety in my minds eye, I am killing all compassion I have.

My decision has and will continue to change my life and my children's lives. Change is scary, sometimes though it is necessary, and always the one that is constant. Everything changes.

Many are confused and hurt, many are angered. I am losing some friends, but I am gaining freedom. Freedom from self hatred, freedom from this disgust, violation. Yes I am leaving behind and losing much, but I am also gaining.

This is far from a poetic account of what has happened, much I still do not feel free yet to express. I will in time. When the time is right. For now I need to apologize, in order for me to survive and live, I must end some things. I only hope that this will allow others to grow and begin their own journey of finding who they are. It is a miraculous journey, filled with pain, tears, ghosts, demons, hope, new found trust, and re-found acceptance and love.

~Desiree~

May 4, 1999
Written by S. D.

You have a special way,
Of smiling from the heart.
Your beliefs are overwhelming.
Your character sets you apart.

We share a bond of friendship,
That transcends the spoken word.
We know we're there for each other.
We can talk and we are heard.

Some days, I make mistakes,
But I try all the while,
Knowing we have each other,
And we'll go the extra mile.

For you have a special way,
Of smiling from the heart.
I'll cherish our friendship forever,
Even when we're apart.

So please know you can count on me,
If you need some place to go.
I'll be there when you need me,
Just call me and let me know.

And so with every word,
You give my heart a lift.
Cause our very special friendship,
Is a most cherished gift.


*I found this in a box of my own jumbled writing. It is amazing the things I keep and forget about. It never ceases to catch me off guard the way someone else has viewed me, or does view me, compared to the reflection I see in the mirror. If you read this SD I hope you don't mind me sharing it. I miss you and all the events our lives  have given us since we last spoke. I still care about you and hope life has smiled upon you, my dear friend.* ~Desiree

Dirt and People

"People are like dirt. They can either nourish you and help you grow as a person or they can stunt your growth and make you wilt and die." ~ Plato

I read this quote and immediately thought of my mother. I am sorry mom, I know I bring you into these so many times. I hope that this is okay and that you know these are lessons I have learned from you. All for the better, none for the worse. If we cannot share the wisdom given to us by our mothers, what good is it?

My mother loves people. She loves healing people. I believe I found my desire to spread good karma onto others because of her. The deep rooted desire to help, heal, pass on the positive emotions and flow of things. This woman is a natural land that has many riches of nourishment and water to grow the plants and vegetation upon it.

In the dictionary under mother it gives me creator as a synonym. Not only is my mother the creator of myself, my two sisters and older brother, but of so much more.

I sat and watched as she tried to create a feeling of acceptance for us children, and of those around her. Sometimes she struggled so hard with trying to save a "plant" that the ground of which she is would become reaped of the nourishment laid beneath the surface and that spot would grow barren.

I love Plato's quote and ideology, however I would like to add that we are the dirt as well and we need to learn when to allow a "plant" to wilt on its own. This is a lesson I have yet to learn. I guess the deep seeded riches of the desire to be a creator, nourisher, healer is planted deep within me. If only I could remember to use this to help myself sprout beautiful flowers and fields of corn.

Thank you mom for the gift of life. I am not saying for choosing to have me, but the ability to pass on life and its wonders onto my own children who matter the most. Then onto others around me so the ripple of my actions will hopefully be gliding ripples. Carrying leaves to shore, allowing a beautiful lake alive and harmonious. With few ripples crushing and dragging bugs, floating debris to the bottom to never be seen again.

~I love you~

Enagua

Written Thursday. September 30th

I periodically print these off and give them to my therapist. Not completely sure why. It's not a requirement nor an expectation. Everything though, that happens with therapy is a choice. We all have to make choices everyday about everything. Most of these choices are automatic and decided without much contemplation. Perhaps my handing these in is my choice of full disclosure. No, that is not quite right. Security, safety is what I am choosing. For my mind, my children. While writing these are a risk, an opening into a world I want to bar off from everyone. It is also a glimpse of my stability or lack of. A glimpse of my ability to function, reason, and live. I must hold onto my ability to reason.

After handing over one of my blogs, he asked me what enagua meant. It is a word I have kept close to me since my freshman year of high school. I felt foolish when I realized I did not remember. This word came from a book I read, I Never Promised You a Rose Garden. The title of the book was all I really had to hand over. The book had something to do with a young girl and a mental illness. Beyond that, no memories, no recollection. 

This feeling of being foolish, silly, dumb has been sitting in the outer portions of my mind. A heavy weight upon my chest, an unsettling pit in my stomach. I know the question being poised was never meant to make me feel this way. Finally yielding to the unknown of the question laid before me, I logged on to Amazon. Yesterday I was delighted to open my mailbox and find it sitting there waiting for me. My lost friend, the book that would hopefully contain the word I have held onto for so long, and the meaning behind it.

Today, I have held onto my new prized possession eagerly reading. Desperately seeking and devouring each word on each page. A treasure hunt that I appear to he obsessed with. One hundred pages into my search I began to feel lost. A search for a word that perhaps did not exist at all. A figment of my adolescent imagination. That very thought brought desperation and even fear to my surface. Strange how I have attached myself to a single word. A word that has no meaning that I can recite or explain. Being a close part of me despite that. But if it never existed......

Finally, page 149. "In the evening, at night wash-up, she limped into the big bathroom and looked at herself in the steel plate that served as a mirror. The self-hate of hundreds upon hundreds of patients had been vented on it and tempered steel cannot endure such an onslaught. Even the weaponless had found weapons to scratch it and dent it and no inch of its surface was clear. "E nagua," Deborah said to it; the formal Yri for: "I love you."

Something has clicked inside me. Excited and more whole, I am beaming. This singular word does exist. I almost want to keep its meaning to myself, close, protected. The truth of this connection, this enlightenment of a piece of myself, I desire to share. If at all through an obligation to those who read my blog and can connect with what I think at times. To share this connection is only right, harmonious.

After visiting with friends a while back in Denver I wrote something to this effect.

A Wise Buddha and a Hippie princess saw a fairy walking along the path. The wise Buddha looked at the fairy and asked, "why are you not flying?" The fairy looked at the pair and replied, "I have no wings." The princess looked at the fairy and said "They are there on your back!"

But the fairy did not believe what she heard so the Buddha and the princess took ahold of the fairy's hands and led her to the river to view her reflection. The fairy still did not see her wings, however the pair was able to have the fairy see something else. The possibility that the wings may exist, because she did look into the river at her reflection. That possibility, that hope is all that is needed before the fairy will learn she has her wings and can fly.

I have always had my wings. The meaning of them was lost and therefore so was the realization of the fact they existed at all. Deep down I do love myself and always have. Perhaps I have held onto this word to remind myself of that. Now I need to begin to accept the fact I am worth loving. I have something good and true inside me, an internal beauty.

My true mental healing, my use of my wings can now hopefully, and honestly begin one more time.

Who says therapy doesn't work? 

Random, Lazy Thoughts

This is a list of random thoughts, incomplete and broken. My mind is not able to coherently combine anything tonight into a logical discussion. The solution, just write them all out. I tried to write logically last night and lets face it, that blog went no where. So I am just going to write as I think. Random, overflowing, overlapping thoughts that circle and twine together. The muddle mess within.

As I sit here drinking my beer my mind begins to wander. How is it that some are alive and able to be just okay in the day to day routine without living? My answer is that it is better then the alternative.

Speaking of beer, I never have been a big beer drinking. The past couple of months though it has been my poison of choice. Normally I would have chosen Tequila. The burn as it flows down my throat, the taste. Then I went through a Vodka Cranberry stage. Sweet, smooth. Beer, simple, cheap. Perhaps I am trying to tell myself something by what I choose to drink. I do not care for Coors, so I sit with my Bud Light. Light beer, seems to be a cliché’. Wait, Budweiser is no longer an American owned beer is it? That sucks. American companies seem to want to bail out on the American people or did the American people bail out on the American companies? Instead spending less for horrible quality and adding to the degrading state of our economy.

Our economy, I don’t even want to go there....how can we continue to pay illegal immigrants to do jobs and point to Americans and say they are just doing jobs you do not want to do. I call BULLSHIT. We just do not want to do them for barely nothing.

Nothing, that is what many of us feel each morning as we go about our daily routines, our lives. Wake up, exercise, eat, brush teeth, bathe, dress, commute, work, commute, home, eat, bed. Damn it sounds like an awful record. Music I do not want to buy into.

I love music. It is live poetry dancing in my ears. Giving my sense of hearing something to entertain itself with. Like the wind I hear blowing against my home right now. Through the empty fields, hollow.

The empty fields. I miss the corn. Silly I know, but I still miss the stalks standing outside my window. Stubborn, tall, fresh...now I get to see clouds of smoke from farmers burning the fields. I feel as though we are raping the earth.

Rape. I have been watching Sons of Anarchy Season 2, I think that is all I want to say about that. Damn Hollywood.

Time for another beer, they seem to go down quickly and quietly. How do alcoholics become alcoholics? Is it really something genetic? Are some of us more likely then others to get this disease? I am not an alcoholic. It only takes three beers and I am ready for bed. Unless of course I want to drink to get drunk. Then that is a quick adventure, usually with hard liquor.

I love the smell of whiskey. Not so much the taste but the smell. Sunflowers smell good too, lilacs. I want to plant lilacs. I cannot keep anything alive, no green thumb here...speaking of which, I need to take those dead plants outside and place the pots in the garage.

Random thoughts, this is how it will continue. One leading to another. Some lingering, some barely a flitter, not even a breath. Random, ever-growing game of round robin. No direction, this is how it is many times. I think it is healthy for me to pick a topic to write solely about, focus, direction.

No effort tonight, I am to lazy.

Lazy boys. I need a new couch.

Perhaps I that can be my reward for getting the housework finally all caught up. I am anxious for that to happen. I am still in this limbo of transition though. I know it will not happen over night. It will happen though.

Ambition, now my friend had her little girl in July and is running in a Marathon in Wichita in October. Wow, she is amazing! I wish I had that self discipline, determination, drive. I place her on my list of people I admire. I think I should send her a card and tell her that.

One of the things I am trying to do is to send random cards, e-mails, notes, texts, phone calls, anything. Everyone deserves to feel special, surprised, thought about. Best way to spread good karma is with a stamp!

Stamps, my one compulsive shopping habit.

This is a never ending cycle. I know it is not exactly post worthy, but hell, I may want to read it later! I will put an end to the typing and leave the rest in my head for now though. Perhaps tomorrow I can focus on a subject. Piece together real thoughts, sentences, logic and reason.

Marriage....

Marriage...what a joke. Let me start from the beginning of my thought process so you are able to follow my line of thinking with me.

Marriage appears to be defined for many as a union between a man and woman in the eyes of God. Biblical scripture shows that in creating mankind in his own image God made the decision to create two groups of humans, male and female. (Genesis 1:26-28). Many who align themselves with an organized religion will argue that marriage is more then a tradition. Marriage was created for specific purposes, fitting specific functions and laws. What laws? The laws of their creator, the laws governing the universe. They feel that if these laws are broken that the consequences of such will result with unhappiness and dissatisfaction of life.

"God created sexual attraction, to draw a man and a woman into a love relationship. He created marriage—a binding covenant relationship with prescribed, God-ordained roles (e.g. Genesis 2:18, 21-25; Ephesians 5:29-33; 1 Timothy 5:8), and gave laws confining the use of sex to that relationship (e.g. Exodus 20:14, 17). He intended this covenant relationship to bring stability into our lives, to teach us faithfulness and loyalty, and to give each mate the opportunity to learn to live unselfishly with another person, different from himself or herself, as a harmonious team." Why Same-Sex Marriage Will Always Be Illegal, by Joel Hilliker.

I understand that from this perspective why people would feel uncomfortable with the union of a homosexual couple. That said, I would like to point out that according to their own faith it is not their place to judge. That we all, according to their beliefs will have to face our maker on judgment day. No one is wanting to force anyone to marry a couple they do not believe should be married, but on the same token why shouldn’t these couple be allowed to be wed?

Same sex attraction has been documented long into history. We can see same sex attraction in mother nature. For that matter there is those that are asexual in nature. Does Jim and John’s marriage change the marriage I have? No, it does not.

I have had the argument pointed out to me that marriages are for family growth and reproduction. In turn I would like to point out that our world is over populated, and any capable couple who love children can raise children. These children do not have to biological, they can be adopted. Many families have adopted children, biological children, or a combination of the two.

I remember being very little and hearing my stepfather make a comment about a gay person. I asked my mom what gay meant. She said it was a person who like someone of the same sex. I asked her if she would still love me if I was gay, she said of course.

To me I learned two things with this conversation, 1)some people are scared of what they do not understand and 2)my mom would love me no matter what so it did not matter what those scared people thought of me.

As a person who is openly attracted to both sexes, I have never questioned whether or not this was a choice or instinct. If it were a choice I would have asked myself do I really feel attracted to this other woman or am I just choosing to be? Sounds silly to me. Being attracted to someone for me, is being attracted to desired qualities. Intelligence, compassion, eyes, height, body build, voice, just to name a few. One attraction alone may not be a sexual attraction, such as voice for example. However, on the same token combine that with another and it could lead to a sexual attraction.

I am a firm believer on the fact you cannot choose who you are attracted to, that is a natural feeling and your body will tell you who you are attracted to. Raised heart beat, flushed cheeks, stuttering, raised body temperature, just to name a few.

Even in the animal kingdom there are documented studies of species that have same sex pairs.

The arguements against same sex marriage all appear to boil down to the same thing-religion. I find this to be a weak argument since we are suppose to have the freedom of religion in this country. Embodded in that freedom of religion, I should have the freedom from religion. My religion, my faith, does not include a moral compass on marriage being strictly between a man and a woman. Why should my faith be put aside for your faith?

I am not really getting to a point on this subject tonight. I am just rambling now, realizing this I will finish with a simple thought.

Live and let live.

The Conflict

~Here is an old piece of poetry/writing/scribbles from 2000, the journal entry with it expressed a desire to understand faith. It also detailed my conflict with living and the consequences that would follow according to Christianity for those who lost their own battle with living. This appears to be a very raw draft, folded and not looked at again. I wanted to revise it before posting, but I did not so good luck reading it.~

Now I sit fooling you.

You think you know what I am about to do.

To bad I am not actually being, what you wish for me to be.

It's almost over now, that dead wish, close your eyes and pretend to see,

The love of life, no longer inside me.

You try to fool, but you don't last, keeping that fake laugh.

Eyes gloss over, then I know, your denial can no longer show.

Here is where I lay my head to die, here is where I begin to cry.

That desire always seems to grow,

To bad I am gone from the blow.

Maybe life will be kind, allow death to venture inside.

I doubt dear wisher of life, that you will allow such an act to sigh.

It's breath soft and cool. Such as that of a winters pool.

No longer you feel the vines upon thy neck. Only caressing of sweet gentle death.

"Maybe it is to much to ask, but thy god does not reply,

how can I," I ask thee, "begin to smile about life's uncertainty?"

You reply, "dear ignorant one, close your eyes, and then you will see the life my god has given thee."

So I close my eyes, what do I see?

Not what you promised me.

I ask thee, "how are you able to see?"

Thee replies, "I believe. You would to if you knew just what god gave you."

I take this all in stride, now I wonder, why cannot this be open to me?

So I ask, "how can you believe?"

Thee replied, "god touched me."

I no longer can hold this feeling, I want to welcome death's touch to my hand.

"If I were to jump, and feel the cutting rocks, would thy god stop and touch, this simple sinner, this lost soul, for this is what your bell appears to toll."

Then you look upon me, your eyes sadden with the thought, you no longer try to abide, you just sit and sigh.

From this point I fall from the cliff, and my dear wisher of life your dear god did not touch my side.

As I fall, I hear your voice "I pity thee, for you will now never know, the virtues even you hold."

I feel nothing when I hit, I only hear this rip.

Sounds as though someone tore the clothes they bare.

I fumble a minute and then slowly stand, moving myself upward upon my feet.

In the distance I see, a perfect light of sanity.

My journey is long, but I put forth my effort and begin my adventure for hopefully the winters pool.

Along the way I came across a young fellow, his eyes are cool, hair cleanly cut, dressed in black, and shimmer of something, something I cannot tell what.

"Come with me dear child, and I will show you the way," he speaks with confidence, absently and uncontrollably I place my hand in his.

We walk on towards the light I wanted to see, and then the fellow turned to me, "Do you believe?"

Before I could answer he disappeared and in his place a woman is there. Long silky gown, all in white.

She smiles and whispers, "Dear child your heart is true, but your soul is confused."

I look upon the ground and I realized the simmer from the man is upon my feet, a rosary.

I bend to pick it up, placing it gently in my hand, the soft warmth growing.

I looked up to find no one at my side.

I put my hand upon my face to wipe the tear rolling softly upon my cheek.

As I bring my hand back down, it is then I realized my hand was bleeding, cracked open wide.

Then it all went dark, and now I know what thy meant, to close thy eyes and to see, not only him, but what thy truly be.

Logan

As Sandra, Logan, and myself sat at the dinner table I noticed that my son eats very intensely. He looks at the food on his plate with thought grabs his choice and then shoves it into his mouth. Needless to say he was done eating before myself or Sandra.

I allowed him to get down and explore and play while Sandra and I finished our meal. Suddenly I realize there is no Logan in the dining room, kitchen, or hallway. Laughter fills my home, but the dogs are missing as well.

Sandra instantly seems to read my mind and looks panicked. Despite the laughter we hear she is fearful.

"Where is MY LOGAN?"

"He is playing, don't you hear him laugh?"

"I don't see him."

Then came the pit-pat of his footsteps down the hall. My boy is running straight past us and into the kitchen. Sandra stands up on her chair and peers over the table, I practically do the same. We hear rumble of dog food from the dish, laughter and see him running back down the hall.

I look at Sandra and she looks at me. Since her momma is not budging Sandra takes it upon herself to get down from the table and follow. She tells me she is going to sneak. Sneak she did. Hiding most of her body she peers only the top portion of her head around the corner. Just then pit-pat pit-pat back to the kitchen, rumble rumble, pit-pat pit-pat, laughter.

Sandra raises her eyebrow at me and I take the hint. Time to be mom and make sure everything is okay. I stand up and Sandra sits back down.

"Mom, you better check on him."

I want to tell her "here's your sign", obviously that is what I am doing. You must understand though that this is HER Logan. No one, I mean NO ONE, loves my boy more then his sister.

I follow Logan back to the kitchen watch him take the dog food, follow him down the hall and to the bathroom. I stand in the doorway.

Logan thrusts his hand down to the bottom of the tub, and a tongue licks it clean. No more dog food. More laughter. Logan turns, sees me smiles, points to the tub and says, "Bubba! Yum Yum!". At which point he shoots past me and I once again hear the rumble of dog food.

I sit back at the table where my daughter awaits her report. Picking up my fork, I pretend nothing is going on. Sandra does not take this as acceptable and says to me,

"Mom"

"Yes."

"What is he doing?"

"What does it look like he is doing?"

"Running and playing with dog food."

"Oh."

"Mom."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"He is feeding Bubba."

"Where is Bubba."

"In the tub."

"Mom."

"Yes."

"We are not suppose to eat when we take a bath!"

This is the point I could no longer take it. I laughed hysterically. This stopped Logan and Sandra whom stared at me. Logan comes over and hands me the dog food and climbs back in the chair at the table and sits.

Without thinking I take the dog food in my hand and sit it on my plate. This of course is not acceptable.

"Mom."

"Yes."

"We don't eat dog food."

"I know, your momma is silly huh?"

"Yes you are."

She hops down and comes over to my plate. Picks up the dog food and puts it back into the dog dish.

Logan looks at us, gets down, and his game of feed Bubba begins again.

Temporary Peace

Today has been peaceful. Tomorrow...we shall see.

A day with my children has left me in a tranquil mode and I am ready to turn in for the night. My travels on the road brought me to a wonderful person whom I needed to see, scratch that, two wonderful people!

I am grateful to them for going out of their way to meet us so I could see them. You know who you are!

Tonight is not going to be a nice flow of words, no pictures painted. Just a boring note. I am here. I am surviving.

Living Through The Storm

"Black are the brooding clouds and troubled the deep waters, when the Sea of Thought first leaving from a calm gives up it's Dead." ~ Charles Dickens

Written September 16th & 17th:

Once again I have lost it. This time almost to complete madness, delirium. I have felt this event building inside me for a long time now. A storm, slowly gathering all nature's elements to release a wrath, an exasperation of emotion and despair.

In a small rowboat in the midst of domineering waves and currents battling for control of the sea, I sit without a lifejacket. As one paddle was ripped from my hands and sucked into the depths of darkness, I knew then the journey to calm waters would be demanding and vigorous.

Slowly, little by little, bit by bit, my rowboat broke into pieces, drifting away eaten by the storm. I cling onto my last paddle. Embracing for the downpour, but in denial of the condition of the vessel carrying me to placid waters. This is how I have allowed my mind, heart and spirit to live, on edge, in flight or fight mode.

Eventually, no matter how strong you are, this way of life will weaken you until bending is impossible and you break. It is now that I must decide. Will I sink or swim? Currently I am too exhausted to swim, not yet ready to sink. Bobbing with the waves in the aftermath all I can manage to do is wish and wait for a life raft to wander my way. With desperation I frantically hold onto the last remaining portion of my rowboat. The splintered paddle. Chunks of wood missing and pathetically the center of my survival, it really would not help anyone move if used.

This storm has left me in such a deplorable state that I am left almost unrecognizable. Broken, desperate, pathetic, weak and defeated. These are the words that now describe me.

Looking into the mirror at the image of what is me has never been easy. Now, however, it is a haunting staring back. Shattered pieces with jagged edges ready to pierce the skin. Sometimes its hard to see the light reflecting off of the scraps that once were me now hidden amongst the darkness.

"Unbeing dead isn't being alive." ~ E. E. Cummings

That is how I feel. Many thoughts that "sane" people find disturbing are a comfort to me. The thick substance, dark red, pooling to the surface of the skin. Slowly emerging from an opening and forming droplets that run down my arm. Not heavy, not light, noticeable and a relief.

"What the hell?" I know this is the thought that is in the forefront of your mind. Because this substance is life. A reminder my heart beats just as yours. Through my veins and arteries flows the life water, a gift from the Gods and Goddesses, from Mother Earth herself.

Does this mean I have pierced my skin to see this? Not necessarily. The thought alone brings relief and comfort. This life water should not be wasted.

Yet the thoughts are there.

This past week I was told I am different, and different scares people. I scare people. If I scare people on a normal basis, then this would terrify them.

I struggle with the thought that I "scare" anyone. Let us look at this in a logical sense.

Scare:

-Verb (used with object)

1. to fill, especially suddenly, with fear or terror; frighten; alarm

-Verb (used without object)

2. to become frightened; that horse scares easily

-noun

3. a sudden fright or alarm, especially with little or no reason

4. a time or condition of alarm or worry

Fear:

1. a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain; whether the threat is real or imaginary

2. a specific instance of or propensity for such a feeling: an abnormal fear of heights

3. concern or anxiety; solicitude; a fear for someone's safety

Terror:

1. intense, sharp, overmastering fear; to be frantic with terror

2. an instance or cause of intense fear or anxiety; quality of causing terror

No wonder I feel like a monster. These words are strong and vicious. Do I truly scare people? Install fear into them? I would hope not.

Ignorance and closed minded propensities breed fear, which in turn breeds hatred.

Perhaps logically, I do scare people. Let us look at the adjectives used to describe me, many I use myself as well as others.

Eccentric:

-deviating from the recognized or customary character, practice; irregular; erratic; peculiar; odd

Peculiar:

1. strange; queer; odd

2. uncommon; unusual

Different

1. not alike in character or quality

2. not identical; separate or distinct

3. various; several

4. not ordinary; unusual

If then I do fulfill these three definitions, I could theoretically scare people. People are afraid or fearful of different ideologies and lifestyles they do not or refuse to understand. This ignorance thus leads to fear which in turn leads to hate.

Now I feel both validated as a monster, and saddened by the unwillingness of people to educate themselves and broaden their knowledge.

"She likes herself, yet others hates, for that which in herself she prizes, and while she laughs at them, forgets she is the thing that she despises." ~William Congreve

I have not been left alone for any length of time since my meltdown. This I have welcomed. Currently I am not strong enough to be alone in my muddled mind. Alone and lost in the sea.

I have done nothing these two days but watch the world slip by. Feeling the warmth of Chico laying upon my feet or against my legs. In the semi I ride. Wasting time. Trying not to think, pushing thoughts of responsibilities I am far behind on to the bottom of my mind. To the depths of darkness resting on the floor of the ocean with my first paddle.

As I sit, I see people in their vehicles. I wonder if they truly feel, live, or if they just go through the routine tasks of everyday life. On autopilot. Sometimes I wish I could live on autopilot.

Through the window I see trees, hills, amazing cemeteries, livestock and fields zoom past. A calming and disconnecting sight. I can only imagine how each of these items smell, sound, and feel under my skin. My previous experiences can form assumptions on these items. That takes more energy then I currently have.

On our way back from Seneca, Nathan stopped at the Precious Moments Chapel. Offering a gift of peace and serenity. The tranquility of the garden, statues, and paintings offered a moment of assurance.

We shall see what my attempt of photography resulted in once I am reunited with the dwelling I call home.

Looking at him I am filled with guilt. Here in the middle of my storm, he is desperately trying to keep our family, our marriage, his wife alive. I have very little strength to help. This is what overwhelms me in guilt. My muddled mind and the actions that result from such.

"I have found it easier to identify with the characters who verge upon hysteria, who were frightened of life, who were desperate to reach out to another person. But these seemingly fragile people are the strong people really." ~Tennessee Williams

Murky Water

I was going to try and type something tonight, anything. I just cannot. It just will not quiet down long enough to become blank.

Perhaps tomorrow......

At The End Of My Rope

This was a question given to me by someone very dear to my heart. I hope that this person will not be hurt by me sharing my answer. Here is my reply.

"What do you do/think to help yourself when you feel like you aren't going to make it?"

My first question is, what exactly do you mean by when I feel like I am not going to make it? If it is reference of not going to succeed or be successful, then I try to think about all the other things I have accomplished, I write down a list of what I want to improve on or the baby steps~the little things, that I can do to make sure I am meeting some sort of goals to achieve my higher goal. This may make my time frame extend out much longer then I care for it to, but at least I can mark things off physically on a list for me to see, a true progress report that helps.

If it is in reference to surving life and continuing on, keeping myself from becoming a shell, dead inside just moving through the motions of routine, that depends.

I try to analyze, (yes I know I over analyze), what it is that has triggered my onset. This is a horrific task as I tend to not know or can not pin point one exact thing. I still try. I write down everything it is that seems to be upsetting me, and if that list is blank then I write down excatly how I am feeling...I do not allow numb to be the only answer.

For instance this week has indeed been a struggle, hard to go on, to move forward to be "alive", whatever the hell that means anyways. Why? At first thought I have no freaking idea. So this is what I know: 1) I am exhausted -physically and emotionally; 2) I am sad; 3) I feel like a failure; 4) I am overwhelmed.

I sit and stare at this and think why/what has led me to these?

1) Exhaustion – trying to do too much perhaps? Not enough? Thinking to much? Not thinking enough? Guilt? Perhaps the other three things led to this, perhaps I am getting ill, perhaps I am not truly exhausted

2) Sad – why? (blank)

3) Failure – I am behind at work, my house is a mess, I don’t get the time I want with my kids, I cannot cook, I am going no where in life, no accomplishments to show for, am I what I wanted to be, what did I want to be, what do I want to be, who am I now, how do I come across to people, who do I confide in, are they able to confide in me, have I forgotten anyone…

4) Overwhelmed – My house is way behind, I am way behind in my job, I am way behind on the truck stuff, I am barely keeping up with my kids, I give and give and give, do I have anything left to give, have I begun to take to much, what can I do, where do I start, I just want to cry…………

Honestly that is as far as I am right now with all of this. I think one feeds off the other and I think there are many more emotions that fit into one or more categories.

What is good with my life, what makes me smile:

1) My children ~ I love doing crafts with them, love the messy house afterwards that shows children are played with here. Like when we painted and Logan realized he was dirty, got off the chair and walked to the bathroom, little blue and purple painted footprints led all the way to the bathroom. I almost didn’t shampoo my carpet, it was beautiful.

a. When I don’t have them or they are asleep, I take pictures, I draw with charcoal, I have started a sanity book.

b. I have pet projects, throwing Thomas’s best friend’s lady a baby shower, I am going all out and out on it. LOVE IT!

2) My dogs ~ They love me no matter who I am or what I do, they just want attention and caring for something else is rewarding.

3) The corn. ~ Yes, I know that may be silly, but I love the corn. I love walking through it feeling the leaves and stalks scrape up against me, the bugs, the smell, it all reminds me that I am connected to something bigger then myself, to mother earth and she loves us all, all creations that have sprung from her very bosom. It shows she will nourish us, provide for us, we just need to work for it. It also makes me think of grandpa, and the farm, the tranquility I have when I walk around his yard, the junk in front of me showing a long life well lived. Fully lived.

4) Writing. ~ I have begun to write again and it helps. Sometimes its my public blog that picks just one tiny molecule of a thought from my swirling muddled mind and throwing it out there. Sometimes it is an intimate email to one of my two confidants that I trust with all I am, they never judge. Or it is a conversation with my Buddha, Jason Hoch. He helps me break it all down, not good not bad, just as is. Then view it from there. A reminder that we all have actions, consequences, and weaknesses, it is recognizing those and working through those without any prejudiced or judgmental thoughts from others and more importantly from ourselves that allow us to become more self aware, realize truly who we are.

When I have no strength, determination or will to do this analyzing and processing, or the things that relieve me of stress, that is when I do things that I probably shouldn't. If Nathan is home I have been drinking. Not a lot, just one beer or one mixed drink, it helps me sleep. I see my counselor once a week, this week I just sat there and cried, barely able to communicate anything. Other times I have a lot to say and it is productive. He listens and points out the other side of things, gives me suggestions on how to better handle situations, and when needed brings me back to "reality". He also helps validate my emotions, agreeing with the why's at times that I might feel or respond to something the way I do, validation is amazing. He is by far one of the better counselors I have ever had. I see a med doctor once every two weeks to once every 3 months depending on what we are doing with my meds and what my emotional state is in. I also read, currently I am working through 7 self help books. I suggest you picking up from the library, "The Cow in the Parking Lot, A Zen Approach to Overcoming Anger.". Even if you do not have anger issues, the whole process it goes through works in my opinion with a lot of emotions and just the day to day living. I am also reading Emotional Awareness A conversation between the Dalai Lama and Paul Ekman. I have also purchased David Foster Wallace, "This is Water". A copy of a commencement speech he gave. It is small, short, and fits anywhere. I carry it with me in my purse/bag/glove box, and pull it out and read it all the time. It helps me get through these really rough times. I have fallen in love with this author. He understands what it is like to be overwhelmed in thought, life, depression. He committed suicide.

I exercise. I get out the wii fit plus and play on it. I run if I can, assuming Nathan is home to stay with the kids. I love getting to the point of pain while running, where your chest is so hot it feels like ice, like you are about to break, unable to breathe. Once you push just past this point of pain, it is an amazing exhilaration of freedom and relief.

I go to the cemetery. I have always loved them, the comfortableness, calmness, isolation. No one to empress, just walking from graveside to graveside. Talking to each one that I feel I must. Remembering and consulting the dead. It doesn't matter if I know them or not, it does not matter if they can hear me or not. I love the way I can relax, be alone in thought but not overwhelmed.

I write my obituary.

Sometimes I have to just be depressed and numb, sometimes you just have to feel that way.

That is what I wrote, but I want to add a few additional thoughts.

Tonight my mind is so full, I just want to shut it off so I can sleep and be ready for work tomorrow, prepared to leave my children. I can't turn it off. I feel these thoughts are probably natural, it is how we handle them that makes the difference.

If my sharing this publicly or privately helps one person to feel less alone, then I am not ashamed to share them.

"You have a choice. Live or die. Every breath is a choice . Every minute is a choice. to be or not to be." ~Chuck Palahniuk