friends

Shame and Truths: RIP Jennifer

It’s the morning after the election. I scrolled through Facebook, and between the flood of posts from both the gloaters and the weepers, I remember that I lost a friend a week ago…and all your political banter seems like silly fluff to me when I remember she’s gone, exited at her own hand.

I don’t know precisely why she did it, but I do know this: we often carry around our dark secrets, ashamed, sure no one will love us if we come clean. We are sure opening up our suitcase of skeletons will cause us to lose our friends. They’ll think us foolish or weak, or maybe both, so we drag our nasty baggage around with us, hiding it away. The weight of it gets heavier as time goes by, crushing.

I’ve cracked open my baggage a time or two, but mostly I keep it snapped shut. I’ve given close friends a glimpse at what’s inside, and you know what happened? They asked, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why didn’t you let me help?”

Because: I was embarrassed. I felt like a failure. I didn’t want to speak it out loud. I didn’t want anyone to know what was really going on with me because I didn’t want to trouble anyone. I needed to handle it myself. I needed to either overcome it or hide it away, but I didn’t want to advertise it. I am strong and asking for help is weak. I don’t know why. All those reasons and none of those reasons, maybe, and perhaps my friend was struggling with the same.

Let me crack open my baggage a little, just a peek, and see if you turn away…

I’ve been verbally abused and hit by men who claimed to be my husband. I say “claimed to be” because a true partner wouldn’t go there and/or he’d recognize his own problems and get some help. I’ve manage to wed two who did that, and I really don’t think I had a clue either time before the wedding. What does that make me? Blind? Naive? And where does that leave me today in relationships? Running away as fast as I can, or trying to control what can’t be controlled…which ends up in me being alone, which is safer, right?

Still with me?

I suck at adulting. I live paycheck to paycheck, hustling side jobs for any extras. I carry a lot of what I call “survival” debt where credit cards were used for medical, dental, child care, and things like clothes for the kid in the months where no child support came or it came, but there was not enough to cover costs like shoes for growing feet or the summer day camp field trip to Dollywood. I’ve never bought so much as a new couch or a new kitchen table. I’ve watched people build new houses and cart in their new beautiful furnishings and I’ve felt lower than low. I’m happy for them, but I quietly wonder, worry, obsess over what I have done wrong? I don’t get it. I have a wheelbarrow full of college degrees and relevant certifications, and I struggle to buy groceries most months. Sometimes when I have a little extra pocket money, I choose experiences with the people I love over a couch. Do you judge me? Could you tell me how to do it better from your comfy leather sofa?

Anyway. That’s enough for now.

My thought here was to shed some light on the things I carry around, that we all carry around, to maybe give some insight on why someone would give up on this life without us having a clue. The things we drag around fester and get heavier and heavier.

Do you believe in love? Do you believe in shame? If love can conquer all then why do we only feel the pain. We’ll miss you forever and then some, Jennifer.

I Love You

A dear friend of mine lost three of her family members in a single accident. It’s hard to get my head around this.

I sat my kiddo down when I heard the news. “You know I love you, right?” She nodded and I continued, “Even when I’m a jerk, even when you’re a jerk, I love you every day, all day long, okay?”

…And so this is for all of you: my family, my friends, my friends who are family, my great loves past, present, and future, and even to those from all categories who’ve already left this life. I love you.

I love you on the days we gather to celebrate, and I love you on the days when we gather to mourn. I love you when you’re being an asshole and can’t decide what you want for dinner. I love you when I’m being a jackass and want to eat peanut butter out of the jar.

I love you when I like your posts on Facebook. I still love you when I haven’t been on Facebook for a while. I love you when you remember Halloween is my favorite time of year, and I love you when I tolerate your excitement over snow and eggnog.

I love you when you text me stupid things to make me laugh. I love you when I forget to text you back. I love you when we have adventures. I love you when I’m antisocial and want to be left the hell alone.

I love you even when I haven’t seen you in a long time, even a really long time. I love you when I send you snail mail. I love you when I forget to mail the card.

I love you when you don’t know what to say. I love you every time you say the most perfect thing, and even when you’re eating crow.

I love you for letting me have the apple butter…all the apple butter. I love you for showing up when you say you will. I love you because you don’t get flustered when I want to drive everywhere we go.

I love you for bringing me coffee at work. I love you for your innuendos. I love you for your character. I love you for accepting my weirdness without flinching.

I love you for hugging me even on days when hugs freakin’ creep me out. I love you for knowing when it’s a terrible idea to try to hug me.

I love you for sharing music with me. I love you for sharing books with me. I love you even when your books and music totally suck.

I love you for sharing secrets with me. I love you even though you think I don’t know all your secrets…but I do, and I’m still here.

I love you because we laugh together. I love you because you quote song lyrics and movies right along with me. I love you when we make crafts, food, and messes together.

I love you for taking care of me when I’m too stubborn to ask for help. I love you for letting me take care of you, for letting me buy your coffee sometimes.

I love you when you do stupid things. I love you when you should know better. I love you when I’m rolling my eyes at the dumbest joke I’ve ever heard.

I love you when you achieve your goals. I love you when you fall flat on your face. I love you for encouraging me. I love you for supporting me even when I’ve been an idiot.

I love you when you don’t love yourself. I love you on your bad hair days. I love you on my bad hair days, and there are a lot of those.

Every day. All day. Cliché? Yeah, maybe. You are part of the shiny strands that are woven together to make up the wild and beautiful spider web of my life. Thank you.

I Kind of Care but Not Really

If we are friends, I kind of care what you think about the company I keep…but not really.

I don’t care if you think I should be friends with this person; if I don’t want to be, I’m not gonna. I don’t make fake nice with people to better my social status or please others. I mean, I’m not going out of my way to mean or disrespectful, but I’m not kissing someone’s ass just because you think they are super-duper if I don’t share your opinion.

I don’t care if you think I should turn my back on someone you dislike. If I’ve chosen to forgive and move forward, let it go. I forgive pretty easily. I get that humans screw up…sometimes they screw up more often than they get it right, and if I make the choice to forgive their human-ness, drop it. Or if you just plain don’t like my friend for no real reason other than you just don’t like them, so what? I don’t want to hear how much you dislike so and so. I’m not going to make you be on a bowling team with people you dislike, pinky promise. I can’t make all my friends be friends; that’s so first grade.

Just play nicely. Don’t wanna play with this person? Stay outta the sandbox then and do something else.

Foul Weather Friends

I think I’ve written about this before…if not, I meant to because it freakin’ bothers me.

I seem to have an abundance of foul weather friends, the kind of friends who only offer support if I am wallowing in the depths of misery and can’t function. If I am so distraught I can’t leave the bed, these friends want to take me out for drinks or bring a pitcher of drinks right to my bed…and that’s lovely, right? It is fantastic to have a helping hand up when I need it.

When I have good news to share, or even really amazing news to share, my texts and emails go unanswered. Silence. Nothing. No “way to go!” No “atta girl!”

It hurts my feelings, but it also makes me wonder why folks are so quick to rally around suffering while it’s so easy to shrug off the positive.

I try to make note of my friends’ accomplishments and triumphs when I can. I send cards and e-cards to celebrate the good stuff, not just to soothe them when they are frazzled. I “like” their statuses when it’s happy news just as much as I message them when I know they are down. I want to have dinner or drinks or whatever for no reason, not just because they got dumped or fired or a bad haircut.

When did we become a society that swarms to the negative? I want my friends to support me on great days, crappy days and ordinary days, and every day in between.

Let’s just pause for a moment and be grateful for friends…not so much the ginormous network of people on facebook or twitter that “like” our posts, but the people who know and love us no matter what. I have gratitude for friends that don’t judge my yoga pants, despite the fact that I don’t do yoga. I have thanks for those that recognize it’s totally normal for me to worry over Halloween decorations in May. Mad love for those that text me and tell me to come the hell out of hiding and be social, because sometimes, yes, I do need to be in good company. Props to those that don’t bat an eyelash when I say I’m on this weird food regimen and am not supposed to eat bread, and I tell them this while slathering a biscuit with apple butter. Cheers to the ones that hand me ice cold Jager shots and tell me to mellow out. Thank you for those that have been along for the ride since elementary school and others that have jumped on board the crazy train in the last couple decades. Mad love, big thanks today and every day.

Au Revoir, 2013!!

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2013 is drawing to a close on this coast. 2013 kicked my ass in many ways…but there were blessings, too.

I didn’t get the big job I applied for, but as 2013 wraps up, I am grateful, because it’s not a place I want to work after all, no matter the position. I had a massive breakup, but on the bright side, I did not have a breakdown; on a related note, I read an article today that mentioned letting go of hatred toward all former love partners because the failure of the relationship didn’t make the love itself wrong since we all deserve a chance to love and be loved…thought that was nice so I’m wedging that concept in here. Finances have been challenging after going back to being a single income household, but the mortgage gets paid each month, there’s food in the cabinets and those are indeed reasons to be grateful. I sprained the crap out of my ankle, jammed my tallus bone under another bone and have been in physical therapy for a few months; the positive there is that I must remember to listen to my body, since I knew something was wrong months ago, but ignored it, and probably made the suffering longer and worse, so, yep, good lesson learned. I met my paternal grandmother this year, but she passed away a few months after we met; my bright spots there are that it was so nice and healing to hear her stories and recollections of my father–hearing her side changed some of my feelings that I’ve carried around for decades, and I am blessed with siblings that I look forward to knowing better. I published a tiny book as practice for bigger endeavors in self publishing so I could figure out the software and the process, and while I didn’t get on any best seller lists, it was so good to at least try my hand at self publishing so I could get over the fear of being out there on a bookshelf, open to criticism…yeah, I still dislike insults about my writing, but I know for sure that writing makes me happy, and I will write and be happy, so there. One of my dearest friends jumped into an rv and drove off with her hubby, but other friends have reappeared after years apart. I turned 40, which was a little stressful being officially middle-aged, but my coworkers and beau really made it a special day for me. A friend passed away at the end of 2013, but there is so much love for him and for our tribe of friends; his legacy is laughter.

Looking ahead into 2014, I want to continue doing the really good stuff like writing books, blogs, and whatever else needs my words, spending fun time with family and friends instead of holing up like a recluse for months on end (but I am truly an introvert, so I will still hole up alone now and then to recharge, just not every single night and weekend), and taking great care of myself, which includes staying in bed when I’m sick, pausing to read a great book, and enjoying dark chocolate without a speck of guilt. To do all that means saying “no” to things I truly don’t want to do, it means not giving all my energy to a job that makes me unhappy, and it means creating and honoring some personal boundaries. Sure, all the usual stuff applies like I’d like to lose weight, exercise, eat more veggies, organize my closets and create a refuge for unwed penguins, but really, I think all that will fall into place on its own if I do all the other stuff. For me, 2014 is about being happy and authentic.

Wishing all of you a happy, prosperous and amazing new year!

scary medical tests

My odometer rolled over to 40. The doctor of Mysterious Lady Parts said go for a mammogram…so I went.
Ladies, if you’ve had this done, you know they just grab your bits and smash them all around and they don’t kiss you or send flowers the next day. It’s so…clinical and cold and impersonal. Grab your flesh, smush it, take images, repeat.
I’m 40. This is a baseline test. No big deal.
Only, it was a big deal. Radiologist saw something and wanted me to come back for more images and an ultrasound, but they can’t get me in for both for a week. Oh my god. “Panic” is not the word for the blood running cold terror…knees quaking, hands shaking. I know the statistics and the odds; very slim that I could have cancer……….but not impossible.
I spent the next week in a nervous haze. I spent a Sunday afternoon curled up in my pjs with a good man who held my hand and told me everything would be okay, and even if it wasn’t okay, it would still be okay. I kept repeating “okay” to myself, trying to borrow from his unflinching reassurances.
I had the images done again, and I was hoping the imaging tech would say there was nothing there when she re-imaged me, just a shadow or too much tissue squished up…but she saw something and sent me to ultrasound.
In ultrasound, the technician found something and showed me…something small but something out of place. She said it could be as long as 5 days before a radiologist looked at all the results and called me.
Sitting in the car outside the imaging center—it sounds so dramatic to say it, but it’s true—I looked at beautiful trees ablaze with fall color and I wondered if this could be my last autumn? Dramatic, yes, but in a week full of health concerns, I became so aware of how there are no guarantees, no timelines, no calendars that say how long we get, no matter how healthy we are or aren’t.
I waited. When the call came through to say it’s a cyst, it will disappear on its own, I nearly collapsed with gratitude. I’d been carrying around such fear and stress for days. The relief was huge.
My takeaway from this whole thing is that I will be regular with my exams to find any problems early on. I will also live while I can. I’m pretty honest with those closest to me, but those who stayed close during this scare heard my truths, heard me open up big time, and I don’t regret it. I don’t regret being vulnerable and asking for love when I needed it, and I should do more of that even when I’m not scared out of my mind. Receiving love is something I struggle with, but I liked the feeling of being held in positive thoughts and total care when I let down my guard, so maybe this health scare came just in time to show me the right way to live.

thankful for a good birthday weekend…

After last year’s birthday debacle, most anything was an improvement…but I had a good birthday and I had a good birthday weekend, too.

There were Jager shots with “Van Helsing” and “From Dusk Till Dawn” and conversation about anything and everything…and that’s just the best. Time spent laughing and goofing off can’t be bought, and it’s the best stuff ever.

This coming weekend will hopefully bring more of the same because there can never be enough. The “Where My Girls At” ladies only 40th bday celebration this Saturday should be awesome. Cheers!