"We're always looking for ways to ease the pain. Sometimes we ease the pain by making the best of what we have. Sometimes its by losing ourselves in the moment. And sometimes all we need to do to ease the pain is call a simple truce." -Meredith
I honestly couldn't have found a more perfect quote for today's TWM post. All I am doing right now is trying to ease the pain. I know being that its February, one may assume the pain is related to that, what this month leads up to for me, for my family. It isn't, though. Right now its more about wanting what I can't have. Normally, I would find a way to get it. I'm stubborn, ornery and refuse to be told what I can and cannot have or do. I am struggling to come to a conclusion of what the right answer is on this particular subject and what I have to do to get what it is I am fairly certain I want. And to do it without leaving myself vulnerable, because, well, fuck THAT. I'm not ready to put all of myself out there only to be hurt. It took years of emotional abuse and suffering to build these walls. I won't let them down for just anything. Or just anyone.
So I guess right now that is what I am trying to do. I am trying to ease the pain of what having those huge walls is causing me not to allow myself to feel. I am making the best of what I have with the mental and emotional tools I have to work with. I am beginning to occasionally allow myself to be lost in the moment. I think that's all I can do to keep myself from drowning right now.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Fuck February...
February fucking sucks. I don't hate a lot of things. Not REALLY, anyway. February is one of them, though. Even the name makes me want to punch puppies in the face. February. Blah. It tastes like acid in my mouth. Its really no secret that of all the months in the year, this 28 day (or sometimes 29-which is another reason I hate this month-why the hell does it get to choose how many days it has???) block is my least favorite. I always get sick in February and so far I have been sick the whole month. The time without sunlight becomes more than draining for me. I feel like each passing minute of darkness is literally eating away at my soul.
Speaking of souls reminds me of soul mates. I think I found mine. He shares all the same sentiment about February as me and I am super jealous I didn't make this video first.
Fuck off, February. You suck.
Speaking of souls reminds me of soul mates. I think I found mine. He shares all the same sentiment about February as me and I am super jealous I didn't make this video first.
Fuck off, February. You suck.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Attitude...
There are all different kinds of people in this world. There are people that know what they want and are satisfied once they have it. Then there are people that think they know what they want, get it, and need more. Their wants change. Or shift. The perpetually unsatisfied, as I call them. I am of the later of the two. I got married, wanted kids, had three, was a stay-at-home-mom for 6 years, decided I had made some mistakes, took the steps to correct those mistakes and move on.
Now I am a single mom of three intelligent, funny, kind, caring, beautiful kids that, even when behaving like total asses, are the center of my universe. I now work 2 jobs outside my home. I have a man that is interested in me (and no, people, I am not ANY where near ready for anything like that. Fuck. I am still married and to a man that despite his complete failure to satisfy my needs as my husband, still holds-and most likely always will-a small piece of my heart). I've gone from being with my kids nearly 24/7, with the exception of the 2 nights a week and every other weekend they're with their daddy, to seeing them only evenings. And yes, that will change in a few weeks. While I finished training for Job1, I started training for Job2. So I am now juggling regular shifts at Job1 with the 6 day, 6 hour days, training schedule at Job2. Once training for Job2 is completed, I will only be working there 1 day a week and then working 5-6 shifts at Job1. Pair all that with the 3 kids' school schedules, finding care between their dad and my mom's work schedules and having time to feel like an individual for 5 minutes is a full time job in itself. Fuck me. Even writing about it all is exhausting.
I knew I needed change. I am happy with the changes I have made in my life. I am, for the first time in my 27+ years, hopeful for the possibility of happiness in my future. I think I now know why. For a long time I was the definition of a 'pessimist'. Then I changed. I am not entirely sure when, or how, or why. I just know I did. I kept my cynical way of viewing the world. I lost the pessimism though. I know that may be confusing. I like to think of myself as a 'cynical optimist' (yeah, I bet you like that. I coined that shit and don't forget it!). There is a sign that hangs at Job2 in 2 different places (I should probably mention that Job2 is a job I held for nearly 2 years from the time I was 18 until I was 20. Also, both of my jobs are serving positions at well known chain restaurants) and the part of this sign that has always stuck out to me reads this, "We cannot change our past. We cannot change that people act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have and that is our attitude." This struck me particularly hard today, for some reason.
I know the life I have chosen is once again the more difficult path. I just think some of us are cut that way. Molded to do better with harder. After all, not every woman (or man) possesses sheballs like mine. Not everyone can adapt to change easily and not everyone craves it like I do. God cut me from a different cloth, I think. And I know, and firmly believe that He will never give me more than I can handle.
Now I am a single mom of three intelligent, funny, kind, caring, beautiful kids that, even when behaving like total asses, are the center of my universe. I now work 2 jobs outside my home. I have a man that is interested in me (and no, people, I am not ANY where near ready for anything like that. Fuck. I am still married and to a man that despite his complete failure to satisfy my needs as my husband, still holds-and most likely always will-a small piece of my heart). I've gone from being with my kids nearly 24/7, with the exception of the 2 nights a week and every other weekend they're with their daddy, to seeing them only evenings. And yes, that will change in a few weeks. While I finished training for Job1, I started training for Job2. So I am now juggling regular shifts at Job1 with the 6 day, 6 hour days, training schedule at Job2. Once training for Job2 is completed, I will only be working there 1 day a week and then working 5-6 shifts at Job1. Pair all that with the 3 kids' school schedules, finding care between their dad and my mom's work schedules and having time to feel like an individual for 5 minutes is a full time job in itself. Fuck me. Even writing about it all is exhausting.
I knew I needed change. I am happy with the changes I have made in my life. I am, for the first time in my 27+ years, hopeful for the possibility of happiness in my future. I think I now know why. For a long time I was the definition of a 'pessimist'. Then I changed. I am not entirely sure when, or how, or why. I just know I did. I kept my cynical way of viewing the world. I lost the pessimism though. I know that may be confusing. I like to think of myself as a 'cynical optimist' (yeah, I bet you like that. I coined that shit and don't forget it!). There is a sign that hangs at Job2 in 2 different places (I should probably mention that Job2 is a job I held for nearly 2 years from the time I was 18 until I was 20. Also, both of my jobs are serving positions at well known chain restaurants) and the part of this sign that has always stuck out to me reads this, "We cannot change our past. We cannot change that people act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have and that is our attitude." This struck me particularly hard today, for some reason.
I know the life I have chosen is once again the more difficult path. I just think some of us are cut that way. Molded to do better with harder. After all, not every woman (or man) possesses sheballs like mine. Not everyone can adapt to change easily and not everyone craves it like I do. God cut me from a different cloth, I think. And I know, and firmly believe that He will never give me more than I can handle.
Monday, February 6, 2012
It's A Matter Of Trust...
Have you ever had one of those days where you are so exhausted with life that you don't know whether or not in the next moment you will bust into a spurt of uncontrollable laughter or a pathetic ball of sobbing tears? Yes, that is a fucking rhetorical question. Of course you have. If not, then I can safely assume you've been in a coma since you were about 9 years old.
I hate February. If you want to know why, read Is It April Yet? I always make it through, mostly. I lose a few more pieces along the way and at the same time fill voids I didn't know existed. I guess I do that by allowing myself to finally feel and heal. What's different this time around is that while I am under a lot more life stress than usual with the 2 new jobs, the divorce and now all 3 kids in school...not to mention living with my brother whom refuses to even acknowledge my existence...I now have a much stronger support team in my life than I ever had in the previous years.
I miss the shit out of my dad. Every fucking day. He was my best friend. We shared everything and yet, the day he died we had so many unresolved issues between us...
We had a song or to, as most daddy/daughter relationships do. One of them was the song he chose to dance to with me on my wedding day (which, ironically, happens to be the song that played the moment I gained the courage necessary to follow through with leaving my husband). The other is a Billy Joel song, yes, Vagmate, go figure, right? Anyway, I really didn't want to bore you with another long set of song lyrics, so here's my favorite verse that Dad always use to squeeze my hand at when it played. You can clicky-the-linky-thingy if you want to hear the whole song, which may or may not work. I can't figure this fucking thing out right now.
I know you're an emotional girl
It took a lot for you to not lose your faith in this world
I can't offer you proof
But you're going to face a moment of truth
It's hard when you're always afraid
You just recover when another belief is betrayed
So break my heart of you must, It's a matter of trust
Happy fucking February, bitches. Thanks for sticking with me.
I hate February. If you want to know why, read Is It April Yet? I always make it through, mostly. I lose a few more pieces along the way and at the same time fill voids I didn't know existed. I guess I do that by allowing myself to finally feel and heal. What's different this time around is that while I am under a lot more life stress than usual with the 2 new jobs, the divorce and now all 3 kids in school...not to mention living with my brother whom refuses to even acknowledge my existence...I now have a much stronger support team in my life than I ever had in the previous years.
I miss the shit out of my dad. Every fucking day. He was my best friend. We shared everything and yet, the day he died we had so many unresolved issues between us...
We had a song or to, as most daddy/daughter relationships do. One of them was the song he chose to dance to with me on my wedding day (which, ironically, happens to be the song that played the moment I gained the courage necessary to follow through with leaving my husband). The other is a Billy Joel song, yes, Vagmate, go figure, right? Anyway, I really didn't want to bore you with another long set of song lyrics, so here's my favorite verse that Dad always use to squeeze my hand at when it played. You can clicky-the-linky-thingy if you want to hear the whole song, which may or may not work. I can't figure this fucking thing out right now.
I know you're an emotional girl
It took a lot for you to not lose your faith in this world
I can't offer you proof
But you're going to face a moment of truth
It's hard when you're always afraid
You just recover when another belief is betrayed
So break my heart of you must, It's a matter of trust
Happy fucking February, bitches. Thanks for sticking with me.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
A Few of My Favorite Things...
Remember that time I made a list of shit that makes me happy? Well I think its time I make another one, as I found myself smiling at almost everything today, despite the fact that my offspring are behaving like total shitbricks (a trait they obviously did not inherit from me). Some of these may be repeats from my last favorite things post, but I'm too lazy to go back and look that up, so, oh well.
Coffee. Hot, steamy, dark, strong coffee. It tastes particularly amazing at about 2:30 in the afternoon.
The scent of my babies noggins after I've bathed them. And I specify with after I'VE bathed them because I use products that smell truly amazing. Good shampoo, conditioner and shea butter lotion. Decadent.
Well prepared food. I don't just mean 'good' food. I mean well prepared. Where thought, love, attention and passion go into the preparation of it. One can make a very simple meal but if it is prepared with care? I swear it tastes better.
The smell of a good man. Not cologne. Blech. There is nothing more nasally assaulting that a whiff of 99% of the shit men my age seem to enjoy drenching themselves in. But soap? Laundry, bar, face, body. Just soap. There is nothing more intoxicating than inhaling the smell of a good, clean, man.
Peanut butter. The taste, the smell, the texture. Ok, so the FAT isn't too appealing, but who hasn't thoroughly enjoyed a spoonful of peanut butter and a glass of milk??? If you haven't, you're not living right.
Puppies. I know, I know. I hate kittens and their adult counter parts. I'm not even particularly a fan of dogs anymore. But puppies? Oh I just can't get enough of them!
Running. Outside. There is no better way for me to release tension, aggression, frustration, excitement, anxiety, stress...all of it, than to get my ass on the move and pound it out on the pavement. I start every run with the one song that puts me into a meditative state of mind and by the time it finishes playing, my legs are warm and practically melting into the asphalt with every step.
Random texts about everyday shit from someone I care about. It says I am being thought of and there is nothing that lifts me up more than knowing I am on someone's mind as much as they are on mine.
Sitting at the bottom of the shower and letting the hot, nearly scalding, water wash over me. Its almost therapeutic and soul cleansing at times. I don't know what it is about the feel of the drops on my skin and the gentle sound of the water splashing against the tub that soothes me. I suppose its the same reason I have always loved to lay in bed listening to the rain. Also why I love laying on a quiet beach in the sun listening to the waves roll against the sand. There is something almost sexy and definitely peaceful about the sound of water.
Well fitting jeans. I love a pair of jeans that fits just so.
Having my hair brushed, stroked, cut, colored...just touched, really. It ranks right up there with the sounds and feel of water. I love that my daughter is in a phase where she will sit and play with my hair forever if I let her.
The satisfied grunt-and-sigh that comes from someone who's belly has just been filled with something I've cooked. I am truly happy in the kitchen or at the grill. I love hearing that grunt from a full, happy, belly and the sigh that says, 'SATISFIED'.
Clean sheets. Period.
Happy Saturday morning, bitches! I hope you find as much joy in the little parts of your life as I do mine.
Coffee. Hot, steamy, dark, strong coffee. It tastes particularly amazing at about 2:30 in the afternoon.
The scent of my babies noggins after I've bathed them. And I specify with after I'VE bathed them because I use products that smell truly amazing. Good shampoo, conditioner and shea butter lotion. Decadent.
Well prepared food. I don't just mean 'good' food. I mean well prepared. Where thought, love, attention and passion go into the preparation of it. One can make a very simple meal but if it is prepared with care? I swear it tastes better.
The smell of a good man. Not cologne. Blech. There is nothing more nasally assaulting that a whiff of 99% of the shit men my age seem to enjoy drenching themselves in. But soap? Laundry, bar, face, body. Just soap. There is nothing more intoxicating than inhaling the smell of a good, clean, man.
Peanut butter. The taste, the smell, the texture. Ok, so the FAT isn't too appealing, but who hasn't thoroughly enjoyed a spoonful of peanut butter and a glass of milk??? If you haven't, you're not living right.
Puppies. I know, I know. I hate kittens and their adult counter parts. I'm not even particularly a fan of dogs anymore. But puppies? Oh I just can't get enough of them!
Running. Outside. There is no better way for me to release tension, aggression, frustration, excitement, anxiety, stress...all of it, than to get my ass on the move and pound it out on the pavement. I start every run with the one song that puts me into a meditative state of mind and by the time it finishes playing, my legs are warm and practically melting into the asphalt with every step.
Random texts about everyday shit from someone I care about. It says I am being thought of and there is nothing that lifts me up more than knowing I am on someone's mind as much as they are on mine.
Sitting at the bottom of the shower and letting the hot, nearly scalding, water wash over me. Its almost therapeutic and soul cleansing at times. I don't know what it is about the feel of the drops on my skin and the gentle sound of the water splashing against the tub that soothes me. I suppose its the same reason I have always loved to lay in bed listening to the rain. Also why I love laying on a quiet beach in the sun listening to the waves roll against the sand. There is something almost sexy and definitely peaceful about the sound of water.
Well fitting jeans. I love a pair of jeans that fits just so.
Having my hair brushed, stroked, cut, colored...just touched, really. It ranks right up there with the sounds and feel of water. I love that my daughter is in a phase where she will sit and play with my hair forever if I let her.
The satisfied grunt-and-sigh that comes from someone who's belly has just been filled with something I've cooked. I am truly happy in the kitchen or at the grill. I love hearing that grunt from a full, happy, belly and the sigh that says, 'SATISFIED'.
Clean sheets. Period.
Happy Saturday morning, bitches! I hope you find as much joy in the little parts of your life as I do mine.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
#TWM...Life is a gift. Accept it...
Your life is a gift. Accept it, no matter how screwed up or painful it seems to be. Some things are going to work out as if they were destined to happen. As if they were just meant to be. -Meredith
March 1st will mark 3 years since I lost my dad, the man that was the rock in my life, to leukemia. The very last thing he said to me, just hours before he died was, "Life has a funny way of working out, KB." At the time I thought he meant 'funny' as a bad thing. His way of referring to the fact that he was indeed going to die, despite the extraordinary efforts put into saving his life. I now believe differently. I believe now, after 3 very painful years where I have made so many mistakes-mistakes I now know were necessary for my growth into a better, more mature, more thoughtful and reserved person-I believe now that what he meant was despite all the horrible fucking things that happen in this life, happiness is still possible. After moving on, healing and becoming whole again, happiness DOES exist. It can exist in even the most cynical of hearts and minds.
I believe that good or bad, all things happen for a reason and I believe what you gain in the end of it all is definitely a positive. Always a positive, even if you don't see it. Because some things? Some things work out as if they were just meant to be.
March 1st will mark 3 years since I lost my dad, the man that was the rock in my life, to leukemia. The very last thing he said to me, just hours before he died was, "Life has a funny way of working out, KB." At the time I thought he meant 'funny' as a bad thing. His way of referring to the fact that he was indeed going to die, despite the extraordinary efforts put into saving his life. I now believe differently. I believe now, after 3 very painful years where I have made so many mistakes-mistakes I now know were necessary for my growth into a better, more mature, more thoughtful and reserved person-I believe now that what he meant was despite all the horrible fucking things that happen in this life, happiness is still possible. After moving on, healing and becoming whole again, happiness DOES exist. It can exist in even the most cynical of hearts and minds.
I believe that good or bad, all things happen for a reason and I believe what you gain in the end of it all is definitely a positive. Always a positive, even if you don't see it. Because some things? Some things work out as if they were just meant to be.
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