Finding Me

I wonder if I'll ever stop looking for who I am?

Everything has it's ups and downs, there is a reason for everything and those ups and downs make you well YOU, right?....... So, what is my reason?  And how long do you look for the person you are suppose to be? 

Who am I suppose to be?  When will I find that person?  Am I already there?

Good Hell, I'm 44.6 years old, you'd think I'd have figured something out right?

Everyone has dreams.  I think most people try to follow them.  I think my dream was to be happy, and I think as a child I was for the most part.  Then life gets turned upside down, and you recalculate who and what you are.  I guess depending on the flip, it could be positive, right?

After a while you start to feel again and think maybe you have a clue and NOPE!  Life has another way to shut you down.....or change your direction.

For me the life changing experiences have, for the most part, not been pleasant.  Not that I'm complaining, it actually feels pretty normal.  See with every negative fall I always was sure that that fall had put me back in my proper place.  After all, not everyone will succeed in this life. 

I already knew I was a failure, and a  horrible person by the time I was 12.

Not the brightest crayon in the box, my GPA was a sold 0.02 and I was kicked out of school two weeks into my senior year.  During all of that I had just enough "friends" to stay high, or drunk a lot of the time.  I didn't really care about anything, until I lost almost two whole weeks of my life in a fog of alcohol and destructive behavior.  Not something I'm proud of, but something I hoped I could change. But if I wasn't that person, who was I? 

In my early 20's I got married and had two kids, I tried to forget who I was, and tried being who I wanted to be.  Life was good and I had stopped looking over my shoulder.  Bad idea! My husband left us and I was reminded what I really was, a failure, and I knew I was not meant to be happy.  Someone has to lose, right?

I went back to school and ran a daycare in my home. I graduated high school and went to college for my associates degree.  I liked school and had a 3.5 GPA I was finally heading in the right direction.  My past demons were well hidden.  I was going to survive.  My kids were happy.  Funny thing about demons, they keep coming back.  Inside I was still that same unlovable person that nobody wanted.  That never was right and would never amount to anything. My wishes, emotional comfort, and needs did not matter.

Enter husband number two...... And the regular reminders that I was his property. To be used how and when he wanted.

During our marriage I lost myself in my children and church.  If everything looked perfect it was perfect.  Nobody needed to know any different.  Happiness was no longer the goal, survival and making it all look good was.  It was working, I had a church calling that I truly loved and I felt that I finally had a spot I belonged.  Then as fast as it came it was gone.  And again I knew I was not meant to be around good people or have good things.  My roll had been pointed out again, so I stopped looking for my elusive happiness.  I know who am am.

Fast forward five years of trying and failing, trying again and falling harder.  Quitting completely and being pulled back from the brink.  And falling again.

So do we stop looking for who we are?  Am I nothing more then the mud I seem to always find myself wading through?  Can I make that happiness we all hope for happen?  Honestly I have know idea!  But I think maybe I'll keeping looking.  Maybe someday I will find me.       

THE END

So here it is, the last day before the world ends......Again.
I jokingly told my daughter that there was no reason to go to work yesterday(or today)and we should run off and play for two days while we waited for "the end". She ,being more practical then I, declined.
That got me thinking a bit. What would I do if I was sure the world would end tomorrow? Besides not paying my bills (which by the way I'm not just on the off chance I get lucky and the earth dose end).
I really couldn't think of anything that jumped out at me.
I don't think I would be all upset about the things I didn't do, or even the thought of being dead.
Dead can't be all that bad right?
If there's no more cleaning the bathroom or doing dishes, I would be good with that!
Here is how I look at it.
I have no bucket list to complete before I die, so I'm not missing anything.
I can't change anything that I have done.
I can't change anything that has been done to me.
So bring on the end!
I'll be waiting, watching softball games on TV and playing with my little boy.
The end of the world will bring a great nap, or something new to do.
Maybe both!
And if I wake up tomorrow...... I guess I'll get up, get dressed and go to work.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

This week my daughter had her 19Th. birthday.
19!!! HOLY COW how did she get so old!?
It really is amazing how fast time seems to slip by. I would swear it was yesterday that I was in some serious pain around 10:00 the night before she came and about 1:30ish having to convince a nurse that YES I DID NEED TO COME TO THE HOSPITAL! 5:30 a.m. and I had my doctor, (an intern) his supervising doctor, and about 15 med students all standing at the end of the bed (ya gotta love teaching hospitals). And by 6:30 May 12th, I had a beautiful 6 lbs 7 oz. little girl.
She was, and is, amazing!
She did not cry (fussed a bit to be fed) until she was a week old, and her older brother stabbed her eye with a pen. She still has the mark right on her eyelid from that one.
She has the most amazing pure laugh that I think I will ever hear.
Her Baby brother thinks the world of her, one of his first words was "disder", they are always together.
She loves to read, hates to be woke up, And she is one of my favorite people to spend time with. Even her older brother loves her!
This beautiful girl has had some very hard things in her life. Her father left a week before her first birthday, she has never seen him since. Her grandfather, who was incredibly close to her, died when she was in high school, and about that same time I was fighting (and losing) a Battle with depression, drugs and alcohol. She has even had to call the police on her own mother, something that I am very proud of her for being strong enough to do.
Throughout all of this crud she has wadded in she still remains a very loving, kind, DETERMINED, and caring person.
I think she is definitely the most responsible person in our family, and I'm sure she would agree with me on that :)
I am not a real big fan of God, or him "blessing" people, BUT I know that baby girl is a huge part of me and I am so lucky, and thankful that she is in my life!!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY GIRL!!
I love you with every bit of my heart.

Grandma's House

My Grandmother is 97 years old. she is an amazing person who has lived in the same 3 bedroom 1 bath home for over 70 years. Until two weeks ago I thought that she would spend the rest of her life in that home. But living alone at her age, and the loss of her sight, has become to much for her so she will be moving into an assisted living center at the beginning of next month.
I was very surprised that she had made the discussion to leave her home. This is a place that she and her husband built while they lived in a tent on the property. It's were all 10 of her children were raised and where every Sunday me and my brothers, sister and cousins could be found playing in the trees, watching the cows, and eating grandma's fabulous treats while the grownups visited inside. We use to watch my grandfather milk the cows in there barn and gather eggs from the chicken coop. They had a horse named Gypsy we would give apples to in the fall. Her home was always safe and warm. Pleasant and very clean. For me their house was always Christmas Eve and grandmas backed beans and ham. I can still see us all there, standing by her piano, each family singing a song. Christmas eves have never been as memorable or fun as when I was at grandmas house.
I seldom visit her there anymore, but I am sad that the house and land her and my grandfather owned will no longer be hers. I am glad she will be in a safe place were she will have the help see needs. And I am so grateful for the time spent there with them working and playing. For the hundreds of wonderful memories that I have of her and my grandfather in that house they built .

Sometimes I wonder If People think.

My Grandmother is 96 years old. Last Wednesday night she fell, drug herself to her phone and called my mom. My mother and I went over to lift her up off the floor and set her a chair. She was very weak and could not help at all. We sat and talked for awhile and checked for injury's. Fortunately other then some bad bruises she was fine, but still to weak to stand or walk on her own. So we stayed got her to the bathroom, helped her into her pajamas, and put her in her recliner where she spends her nights (I should mention that she is legally blind and lives alone).
My grandma is also very religious. She hates to miss church for any reason short of death. By Friday she still could not support her own weight(84 Lbs.) for more then a few steps and their was no way she was able to get in the car without being lifted. My mom can't lift her. So she was very upset that she would have to stay home from church that week. This is where I opened my big mouth. I told her I would take her to church so she didn't need to worry about it. I can get her in and out of the car and do all she needed to get there. My grandma was very thankful for that.
Sunday came and we were of to church, I would need to stay for all three meetings(she/we are LDS) and I was not looking forward to it, but I knew my grandma was. I have some anxiety about going to church because of personal reasons.
So there we are sitting in her first class and one women felt she needed to share about a neighborhood Christmas party that they served alcohol at. She kept saying what a wonderful party it was. She knew some of the people who were there were also "Mormon" not active and drinking. Her tone and the rest of her story was very judgmental toward "those type of people". I was hurt by her words, it made me feel unclean, and not want to be there at all.
That class ended, I helped my grandmother do what she needed, and her next class started. I sat through it too. Thinking of the first class most of the time. Did the women in the first class know anything about the people she seemed to be judging? Did she know she could be hurting several of the women in that room with her words? Does she understand what forgiveness is? I wasn't mad at her.... OK I WAS mad at first. But my thoughts went straight to "typical Mormon, judging everyone that isn't as perfect as they are". However as I sat there I thought about the Mormons in my life that have not judged me, the ones that relies we all do things that we regret. We all have our own choices to make, and they may not agree with yours, but that is OK and you might still be worth knowing and maybe even liking.
So let think before we react!

Think before you stereotype a whole religion by the careless comments of one.
Think before you judge someone else for their actions.
And
Think before you offer to help take your grandma to church :)

Memories

Memories are strange things. Do you remember what you did last week on Tuesday? I don't. I don't remember most peoples names, I can't seem to recall them sometimes even if I know the person quite well. Things my daughter has told me half an hour before, gone. Drives her nuts! Bugs me too sometimes.
So why is it that we can, with seemingly perfect clarity, Remember some things that happen in our childhood, or when there is a catastrophe? Why do smells bring us back to a special moment, or even a mistake that you can't seem to forget(or forgive)? The mind is an interesting and sometimes unkind thing.
Do you remember where you were when The Twin Towers fell? I do, I was going to get my marriage license
How about when the space shuttle exploded when lifting off? YUP, Heading to my brothers to babysit his kids.
What about where you were when President Reagan was shot? I was in My 7th. grade math class.
I know where I was in August of 1981. I know I have never been fond of Georgia (specifically Atlanta) since then, and have never ever wanted to return there.
I remember my sister slugging me at my grandfathers funeral because I was not crying (I was 5 years old). And my Aunt Mary teaching me to do "here is the church" hand game to stop me from crying after being punched.
I remember a young women leader that took a special interest in me.
I remember vague images and people filling in the blanks for me as a teen the day after. And as an adult.

Even though I'm not the brightest crayon in the box, I do know there are scientific reasons for all these lovely things we remember. But I still am constantly amazed, irritated and sometimes angered by my memories. It is incredible to me how a sent can bring back happy thoughts of camping trips or holiday gatherings. Or a touch, maybe even a word or laying down a certain way, will send a flood or memories that are overwhelming.

I have memories that come back at the strangest times. Some pleasant, some not so much, and some horrible.
So why is the human mind so incredibly amassing, yet so unforgivably cruel?
What do you remember? Why do you remember? Sometimes I think some memories are just best left alone. I have tried many ways of leaving some of mine behind, they just come back. I can't leave them or they wont leave me. No matter what, or how, I try they always seem to find me when I lest expect it.
Memories are really very strange to me. I'm happy for most, and tired of hiding from the rest.

God in a Bottle

Tuesday I woke to an anxiety attack. Perfect! My attacks seem to have an A or B to them. A: I really need some hand holding (literally), while the ugly runs through my head and goes away. Or at lest subsides. As much as I know I need that, I am always afraid to ask. The first thing I think is oye! not again, I do not want to ask someone to dill with my drama. And I do not want to cause unneeded to stress for other people. SO, I want A and am scared to ask. Brilliant! So I usually opt for my plan B. I run. Running for me usually involves giving in somewhat to the noise in my head. My head, I have found, should not be unsupervised most of the time. It has lead me to many stupid things for as long as I can remember. Which I can always point out when having my meltdowns and make them worse.
Tuesday I ran. I took a bundle of wood up the canyons and decided I would go for a walk in the snow to think. Then I would build a fire and write or read.
The canyon was very quiet. No people a bit of snow covering the golden fall leaves and the sound of the river running down to the valley below. It was so calm, and I was not. I built my fire.
I cried for awhile, wanted some advise and solace and found neither. I really just wanted a hug, and to talk. But how do you do that when you are trying your best to pretend you are alright?
I know what is causing most of the problem. ME. I know what a shock! I am so unable to find me that I am falling farther down the rabbit hole until I my never get out
So here is the deal.

1. I don't know/like who I am. My solution is to drink. which for the most part I have been pretty well at hiding again

2. I don't know God or what my relationship is with him. This makes me anxious, and I take lots of medication trying to deal with that anxiety. Or I drink.

3. I am scared of what I might find if I start looking. Once again my solution is to drink or take my pills(sometimes I do both)

Even writing this and thinking about it is making me want a drink to just make it all go away for awhile. I am afraid of what I will find. But I do know If God is not in my bottle.Maybe I shouldn't be