When The Waves Come

Inside my fortress of sand,

the waves come in at their own command.

Inside my fortress of wood,

The waves wear away all that is good.

Inside my fortress of metal,

The waves rust and eventually I crumble.

Inside my fortress of stone

all is fine, but I'm all alone.

- Me

" I hate Sundays. Sundays mean I am heart broken. I have to leave you on those days." - My daughter.

Two and a half years ago we moved to North Carolina and brought my daughter with us.
Two years ago I had a tubal pregnancy and had to have it removed.

The resulting hormonal upset in combination with living with my in-laws, trying to raise two children and mourn another, trying to go to school full time ended in me taking four days and checking into the hospital. The next few months of medications and diagnosis resulted in a PMDD diagnosis but not before daughter went back to live with her dad. We both wanted stability for her.

The result was a serious walloping to my self-esteem. This spurred me to make myself someone my daughter could respect, not resent when she starts asking questions as a teenager. The last two years have been filled with growth, stability and a better job.

I've been working really hard lately. I begged for a promotion at work and busted my butt when it became available. I was determined to show that I'm capable of being the person I want to be.

I talked to her this afternoon and she was beautiful and confident and preoccupied with her life. I couldn't help wishing I knew her little friends and could hear her stories after school. She wanted to stay with her dad for a birthday party at a friend's house.

I guess my point is, I miss my baby but I'm glad she is happy.

I just had to get that into the universe.

We Are the Music Makers

We are the music makers,

And we are the dreamers of dreams,

Wandering by lone sea-breakers,

And sitting by desolate streams;—

World-losers and world-forsakers,

On whom the pale moon gleams:

Yet we are the movers and shakers

Of the world for ever, it seems.

-Arthur O'Shaughnessy

What is it to be satisfied?

To find peace with one's surroundings, finances and general life circumstances?

Is the monotony of day to day life acceptable to most people?

I work with dreamers. Dreamers who love dreamers. Dreamers who create. 

I feel at home with these people. 

At the same time I feel like we're all in the place where we're not quite satisfied. 

My husband would be entirely satisfied to do the exact same thing everyday.

Camp on the weekends. Maybe live in a cabin with zero electricity. 

I can't decide what it is that makes me want more. 

I love my kids. I love my life... but I've got an itch. 

What do you do when you get this way?

Lately I've been pushing my passion and energy into my work. 

My therapist says it's part of my personality. I have to stay busy. 

He's currently on a 5 week sailing trip from San Diego to Hawaii so he can't really talk. 

A ship wasn't built for sitting in a dock I suppose. 

Growth and change is part of life. 

Dissatisfaction spurs action. 

I will think about this. 

Why I Haven't Been Writing..

I had lunch with a few friends two days ago who encouraged me to be myself unabashedly and from that conversation came this blog post.

I often wonder if writers are all just narcissists, myself included.

This is the third time a friend has called me a "writer" and the third time I have scoffed.
My new therapist called me, "Incredibly self-aware," the first time that I met him.
I think this was a hint. 

Part of my not writing has been that I have stayed off of my ADHD medicine for over a year now.
It wasn't necessary for working in retail and it typically made me feel like crap.

I tend to fill my life (or at least my brain)with a lot of extras due to a need for constant stimulation. I over analyze life situations and dissect them in order to process them fully. Coping mechanism. *shrug*
Eventually I get overstimulated and need to sort it out.

In response to this reality that I live in, I started seeing a therapist again.
It's probably going to be a thing I have to do on and off for the rest of my life.

Dr. H PHD. He's pretty cool.

I went to Dr. H because I think that my standards for myself and others need to be evaluated. This idea is difficult for me, because I think I'm pretty damn empathetic. I'm beginning to realize that with the general populous I am actually a really nice person....

But.

With the people closest to me, I tend to be an overly analytical drag who can't figure out what she wants in life. I also tend to assume that everyone has these standards for themselves. This leads to copious amounts of disappointment. This is also true in regards to my expectations for myself.

I wrote this about 6 months ago when I was in a rough place but I wanted to share it because I felt it was fitting. :

Potential

Potential is like "raindrops are falling on my head.."

Potential I can't quite seem to grasp. 

Trying to hold onto it but it slips

Right through my large soft hands. 

I am drowning in lost potential.

The expressions when I get out of my slightly dented car with my two children from different men.

"She never has been a great driver."

"She always has had a bit of a sweet tooth."

"She had so much potential."

REWIND

New hope. 

Deep breath as I enter my classes my first day back at college. 

Post first husband I have finally started to feel that potential again. 

"You are so intelligent, so much potential"

"Top of your class.."

Smart. Intelligent. Independent.

I need no man.

I trust no man. 

I will finally be enough for myself.

I have so much potential.

4 Months later.

A mini skirt drives off of the ferry. 

Home.

Stumbling up the steps

Closing the door to the bathroom.

Sobbing as the water pours over her head. 

"I shouldn't have worn that mini-skirt."

Potential. Washed away with her G.P.A

Potential.

Potential.

Potential.

Potential. 

If you say a word enough times it begins to lose it's meaning. 

Potential is like "raindrops are falling on my head.."

Potential I can't quite seem to grasp. 

Trying to hold onto it but it slips

Right through my large soft hands. 

I am drowning in lost potential.

I want to make it known that I am currently not in the same place as I was when I wrote this, but I thought I would share it so that you might have a better understanding. 

I'm conflicted about even sharing posts like this just like I'm conflicted about singing in public. I love to sing but I feel like doing it in public is forcing yourself on people. I suppose, if folks don't want to hear it... they don't have to read. 

I won't promise to write this time. I'll just do what I can.. and be okay with that.

 I'm a work in progress. 

Rupi Kaur and Instagramming McDonald's

No one takes a picture of their 2,000 calorie cheeseburger

and fries from McDonalds and puts it on Instagram.

 

I watched a video today of a poet who is receiving world wide recognition for a rather shocking photo series on menstrual blood that she did recently with her sister. Her name is Rupi Kaur and she writes about the things that most people don't want to talk about. At first she seemed a little bit... much.. but as she spoke, her honesty sparked something inside of me.

 

Rupi explained that sometimes, before she shares a poem or photo online, that she shows and talks to her sister or friends about it, wondering if it's too much or if it would be appropriate. Often, her sister tells her that if she's afraid to post it, she should definitely post it. That making people uncomfortable is ok. This concept was tremendous for me.

 

Many of you are close friends and family, or nosy. It doesn't matter which category you fall under, I post it online. You're welcome here :)

I was speaking to my friend online last year after a few rather transparent blog posts, and she said, "People just aren't used to this level of honesty... they don't know what to do with it." I felt guilty at the time. Now, I'm beginning to feel as if I should have owned my reality a bit more.

 

Most of us don't wear the negativity in our lives like a t-shirt.

The girls that post all of their drama on Facebook typically are labeled as attentions seekers,

 wherein people ignore them. This cycle is rather counter productive in my opinion...

 

If you were honest about your reality, what would your Facebook/T-shirt say?

"I'm exhausted. I haven't slept since my 2 year old was born..."

"I don't understand why he doesn't want me anymore.."

"She never wants sex... she must not care about my needs.."
"My father never sees me."

"My boss doesn't respect me."

 

"This is slavery, not to speak one's thought.."-Euripides

 

Some of you cringe when you think of posting something like this, and sometimes.. you're right.

 

Sharing something personal about your relationship without your partner's consent is unwise.

 

but...Sometimes being transparent about your problems can allow people to speak truth to your fears.

It allows people to reach out.
If people don't know you need help, they can't help you.

 

"Oh honey! I didn't know you haven't been sleeping! Let me come over and watch the baby so you can nap..."
 

"Relationships are difficult but communication would help, have you guys talked about this..?"
 

"Oh, my husband and I had the same problem... I know this great therapist.."

 

Honesty builds trust and relationships.

It relieves some of your burden and allows others to try and help you carry it.

Don't be ashamed of your reality. We're all living our own.

 

"Yawns are not the only infectious things out there besides germs.

Giggles can spread from person to person, so can blushing.

But maybe the most powerful, infectious thing, is the act of speaking the truth."

- Vera Nazarian

 

 

 

Throw A Bunch Of Crap In a Pan and Call It Dinner

I am not a food blogger.

I don't take ridiculously professional photos.

That being said, tonight's blog is a one pan chicken recipe that I make regularly.

 

My husband and I both work full time.

If dinner has too many steps, I'll often opt for Ramen and sandwiches.

Andy's a big man and needs big man dinners, so I often cook meals with dishes in mind that will fill him up. This usually does that.

 

Without further ado, My One-Dish Baked Chicken

 

You will need:

Some chicken.

We like to use drumsticks. The dark meat tends to dry out less quickly and you can get an 8-10 pack for around 3 dollars at Aldi or your local grocery store.

1 can Cream of Chicken Soup.

1 Onion- sliced into rings

1 cup of water

Salt

Pepper

Italian Seasoning

mushrooms or any additional veggies if desired.

First grab a rather large glass, and your large bottle of wine. Drink a large portion of said wine, and set to work.

 

Preheat your oven to 350ish.

 

• Spray a 13x9 pan or a reasonable amount of olive oil in the bottom and turn it around until the pan is coated.
• Correlate the pieces of chicken like :  [PdPd]<= A pan of chicken.
• Evenly distribute the cream of chicken soup across the chicken.
• Fill the can up with water and dump it into the pan. This gets the excess out of the can and simultaneously saves you dishes.

Drink more wine.

 

Layer the onion across the top along with any other veggies you would like to add. We like mushrooms, peppers and zucchini.

Evenly distribute salt, pepper and Italian seasoning across everything.

Place in the oven for about 45 minutes. Pull out, check your chicken, flip and season this side lightly.

 

Drink...er.. more wine or something.

 Place your chicken back in the oven for another 30-45 minutes, or until the chicken is no longer pink inside. If you're faithfully following instructions and the wine is beginning to get to you, have your significant other check your chicken too. Just in case.

We ate ours with a large serving of broccoli but anything green will do.

 



The finished product.

Enjoy!

My Warning Label

Most blogging experts say that in order to become successful within this industry, one's goal is to blog daily, or set a strict schedule so that you don't become lazy or inactive.

I have decided to give this thing a go and see what becomes of it. I've been avoiding this outlet out of fear. I'm not all that good at receiving public criticism, but I've been asked several times why I don't blog anymore. It made me wonder if I should at least try.

Some of the negative posts from last year have been removed, partially out of embarrassment, and partially because when I re-read them they take me to a place of negativity that I really try to stay away from. If you've been diagnosed with depression, you may know how easy it is for one to read a sad blog, have a bad day, fight with your spouse and feel those weird pulls in your stomach start to nag at you.

 I'm not saying that depression is a choice.

 I'm saying. that who one surrounds themselves with is a choice. Your body's natural reaction to immense stress or negativity should never be something to be overwhelmed by, simply aware of.

Ideally, I will be blogging a few times a week. Any constructive criticism is welcome in an email or a Facebook message but cruel, public negativity isn't welcomed here.
It is my goal to be not only entertaining but honest, exploring and shaping my ideas in a public forum. In a way, it holds me accountable.  I can re-read my posts and recognize any changes that need to be made to my perspective or thought patterns.

Please keep in mind that we are each on a journey. We all experience different pitfalls along the way and deal with them in the ways with which we feel we are capable.
All things written here are opinion not fact.
Treat them as such.

Retail Etiquette

These days I can be found floating amidst the aisles of your local office supply retailer. I insure the auto-ordering system has a correct idea of what items we do and do not have in stock. If we don't have an item anymore, I tell our computer system where it went. If the item you're looking for isn't in stock, its ultimately my fault barring warehouse complications.   At Wal-Mart my job was done by multiple departments ie: receiving, claims, inventory, stockers. 30+ people.
Our store is a significantly smaller scale, so.. *flex*...

Our Company is big on customer service and doesn't have an after hours stocking team, so I spend a lot of time on the floor, offering assistance to customers. Until working for my company I had no idea that if I were to go into a store looking for a blue 2in binder, I could be greeted with 4-5 variations of the exact same thing.

Standard
Standard with Label space
Standard with Laminated pocket on the sides
Heavy duty-standard
Heavy duty with pockets
Better Binder- rubber lined binder

With so many choices, many of the folks in our little country city are bewildered and find me, stocking blue Uniball gel rollerball pens with stylus- no these are the one's without the stylus sorry.. damnit now I have to do it all over. Their bewilderment plain on their face, I say with a smile, "Hello! Is there anything I can help you find?"

Some are reasonable and simply reply, "I can't figure out the difference between these..."
Some are perky and make a joke about their age and society moving forward without them.
Some are angry. They've found their item but we're out of stock and want to know why I-personally threw away their cable they decided to purchase at an office supply store instead of Best Buy.
Some blame their confusion on the company. "You people" have changed the store around and now they can't find anything.

A majority of the time, I respond with an empathetic remorse, mirroring their own disdain and expressing my frustration with the circumstances and offer to solve their problem.

Although, occasionally the initial distain and remorse gets old. This customer wants me to FIND them their product. I find it online and explain that the shipping is staying 4-5 business days but the shipping will be free and everything should be dandy.

Everything is not dandy.
The customer then wants to know why on earth anyone would make him wait 4-5 business days. At this point they're interrupting my every remorseful suggestion. He "I ain't... don't wanna" go to Wal-Mart or Best Buy. They want their cord NOW, why won't I make it go faster? Didn't find it at the one store he looked at and now we don't have it either.
I make a light hearted joke now that everyone's out to get him today, huh?
He didn't like that.
My supervisor, who had been present for the entire conversation,  pulled me aside later and said, "Sarah, we need to talk about earlier.."
I apologized and said I knew what I had done wrong and it was unprofessional.
He stopped me mid-sentence and said, "No, Your mistake was assuming that he had a sense of humor."

I think I live that way. I assume that everyone has good vibes. When they're poop heads I'm deeply bothered and must analyze it vocally in detail. Why would someone be so awful? There has to be a reason. Maybe, some folks are just having a bad day.
Maybe some folks are just jerks.
Here's to not being a jerk and trying to spread positive juju.
xoxo
 



About the Happy

Everyone has that family member, or in my case, multiple family members that take your life and compartmentalizes it for comprehension at holiday gatherings. Questions like, "So how is school?" "Are you and Andy planning on getting married?" "How is your relationship with the Lord?"

This holiday season I was pleasantly surprised that most were so busy chasing kids and grandchildren that no one had time to ask me about my life. Well, except my Aunt Akari and to be completely honest, I've been thinking about our conversation ever since.

We were discussing my mother's side of the family and how it tends to choose impractical and often, useless college majors that make little money.

 "You can say that I'm a dreamer... but I'm not the only one..."

It's the plague of our family. Music majors, artists, film majors.. and I wanted to major in anthropology. I've always found linguistic anthropology to be fascinating... but as I mentioned before.. ever so impractical.

My uncle mentioned that he and Akari had read this blog and thought that I was quite talented... except, in the words of Akari "It need to be a little happier... Why is so sad?"

So I decided to write a blog about the happy. Things are really, really good.

I had a birth control implant put in my arm a few months ago and have completely gone off of all anti-depressants. I've been off of them for 6+ months and I'm happy. I'm back on my ADHD meds now and I'm productive. I feel much more balanced this time around. I'm so grateful for the patient services department at my doctors office. She suggested the birth control to have a consistent stream of hormones to balance out the severe hormonal fluctuations. It has worked and I know Andy and I are both really happy.

Andy is really happy at work. His back has been bothering him but that man is such a hard worker. He's a great dad. Spends time with the boys when we can get them and Augie can't wait to see him at night when he gets home. He works late a lot but he has to and honestly, he rarely complains. I'm a very lucky girl to have found such a kind, hard working and patient man.

Augie is speaking a lot more now. Typically using single words to describe what he wants. "Juice.. Eat.. Potty.."  Rather similar to Andy in that way. (HA) Sigh.. men. He's been going to a great sitter who has a bunch of kids his age. LOVES getting up to go over there in the mornings. "Mah Bet!!!(Maribeth)" He's 2 now. Developing an opinion about everything. He get it from his mama. ;)

Haddie started Kindergarten in VA with her dad. She and I talk a few times a week via Facetime. Augie LOVES talking to her. They giggle and laugh the entire time. She's doing so well with her reading. She sees my mom about once a week and my grandmother takes her to church on most Wednesday nights. I really appreciate their involvement. She's happier there. We see her every 2 weeks or so. I miss her but it's best. I'm proud of my baby girl.

Cole's team in baseball won the tournament this summer and his football team won the championship this fall. He loves sports and wants to play basketball this winter :) Can I just say, what a sweet kid? He's not only helpful and patient with Haddie but he plays with Augie. Full of tenacity, and he's hilarious. Cole loved riding the 4-wheeler with Dad and was so much fun this weekend for Thanksgiving. Love him.

Cary is in boy scouts and seems to really enjoy it. I met the leaders recently and they seem to be really kind and accepting people. Cary LOVES video games and declared this weekend that he's going to work with computers when he gets older. He's a lot like Sam sometimes. A weird mix of Sam and Andy. It's endearing.

Thanksgiving was wonderful. The boys loved playing with Leo and Emmie in Statesville. The ride to VA was a bit long but worth it. Mom had built them a "tree-house" and gotten bikes, and a video game system for them to play with. Dad was all over the house playing with them, taking them on four-wheeler rides, going to the river. We had a big party for Augie's second birthday and mom played a trick on the kids by putting dog treats in the pinata. I believe Cary's response was, "Well that's crap..." We had candy waiting inside ;)

Life is good and stable. I'm happier than I've been in a long time.
Thanks for caring everyone. I hope you're well.

Vulnerability

One of my lamest qualities is that I DVR Criminal Minds, a television show about FBI Behavioral Analysts and profilers. They address a lot of psychology and I find it fascinating.

Today they featured a quote by one of my favorite authors of all time, Madeleine L'Engle. 

"When we were children, we used to think that when we we were grown-up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability... To be alive is to be vulnerable."

Vulnerability is everywhere. As adults we have made strides to harden ourselves. Vulnerability comes from genuinely feeling. Children are a prime example. They are sensitive. Their bodies may be tough, but their hearts are breakable. 

My biggest area of vulnerability is trust. I do not trust individuals to genuinely care. I assume that each person has maintained a connection with me based on some level of convenience for them. I like to be needed. It means that people don't leave. My biggest fear is being useless and alone.

It all sounds silly and over dramatic when I put it like that. Putting words to genuine emotion usually does. If you think about it, you can probably tell what your spouse's or parent's areas of vulnerability are. How intensely they react when those buttons are pushed. Negative reactions based on fear of vulnerability. 

Something that we must realize is, we are all vulnerable. It is human nature. Some take medications to treat their fear of vulnerability. Some get in shape so they can fight off their rapist every single day. Some always have the newest cars, the best houses so they can make sure their children never have to suffer with the embarrassment they did. Some look at the world and just feel overwhelmed. "I am only one person," they say to themselves, "How do I protect the ones I love from this pain?" 

The answer? We can't. We can try and fight. Shield. Control. Make smart choices. Beat everyone out of our lives except who we deem as "safe".. but it doesn't work. To live this way is to perpetuate our fears. We keep them in front of us. We make ourselves miserable. Ulcers.. anxiety attacks.. separation from the world... but all of that doesn't work! We still experience pain. We are all still vulnerable. 

"The past is our definition. We may strive, with good reason, to escape it,  or to escape what is bad in it.... but we will escape it only by adding something better to it."

-Wendell Berry

As a mother, many of my decisions have been based on a fear of having my children experience what I have. I scare myself. I don't want them to be broken by me, but that fear does almost as much damage. I have to choose daily to admit my lack of perfection, to admit my vulnerability and to show love and compassion to my children. To help them up when they fall, even though I told them 4 times to NOT JUMP ON MY BED.... I hug them and I kiss their bruises. 

Admitting vulnerability means that you're free to love. 

The opposite of love is fear. 

The opposite of happiness is fear.

The opposite of living is dying.

Don't be afraid. Accept your flaws. 

Do your best to improve upon them, and live just live. 

Life in abundance.

"Momma!"

"Follow effective action with quiet reflection. From the quiet reflection will come more effective action." -Peter Drucker

The house is growing quiet again. 

After a weekend filled with love, laughter, some crying aaaand very possibly some tempter tantrums... it's quiet.  Although I relish my quiet time, having the kids around makes me feel important. More than that though, I'm able to love them so completely. I can make them smile when I make food they enjoy.. or just play soccer outside. When they find a new shirt that I bought... or just to offer warm morning cuddles. Andy turned to me today and said.. "Thanks for caring about our family, Sarah.." and gave me a kiss. I do. I really really do. 

Sometimes I get caught up in myself.

I know. 

I'm making vast strides to change that.

I don't think one is supposed to admit these things in our society. Admitting fault makes a person vulnerable to critique. Even in the church, one can admit some things... but not all things. All of this opaque or faux stability not only hurts the person holding it in, but it also hurts those around them who could find peace.. knowing they're not alone in the world. 

I started this blog as a story about our search for a home. It has become a letter of my heart. I plan on continuing into a sequel. A 2 dvd package. The happily ever after. It's dangerous, this thing I'm doing. Scary. Although I have been working some, I will try my best to accurately tell this tale. I hope you all join me for the ride. I hope each of you know that respectful transparency is something I appreciate whole heartedly. Disrespectful transparency sometimes must be tolerated because sometimes the harsh truth is needed. 

The ability to maintain complete honesty as opposed to idealized reality is the mark of a true friendship.

Well friends, it's time to take Haddie to see her daddy. I hope y'all come visit ;)

xoxo

Sarah

Chick-fil-a, Chex, and Sylvia Plath

I've taken to Sylvia Plath of late. She writes with a depth of spirit that is rare. Almost everything she writes impacts the "tuned in" individual. She writes:

"For all my despair, for all my ideals, for all that - I love life. But it is hard, and I have so much - so very much to learn.” 

It's as if everything she writes is a revelation. "Yes! Someone finally put words to that emotion!" 

I have a friend who many of you know. He works for a large charity organization and writes a blog about the confusion that exists within the Church today. He tries to make sense of it all and help others to do the same. I appreciate this friend and his wife. Their drive to put action behind their words is... Christ-like. 

My friend likes to use the word "marginalized" a lot. It's the smart people word for people who do not accurately conform to societal expectations. People who don't fit in. Whatever the "norm" may be, these people are not it. He wrote a blog once about the Chick-fil-a/Oreo/Homosexuality debacle a few years back. I think he received more response than he had expected. He responded to each with respect, despite the incredibly long Facebook threads. I admire this man. Someone back home, buy him a box of Chex Cereal and a gallon of whole milk for me. ;)

A beautiful girl I know cheated on her husband. Her circumstances were not unique but she has become such a beautiful person despite these choices she made. Her children are golden. Her marriage is human, but operating comfortably. Still, she is marginalized.  Her mistakes follow her daily. I've witnessed her being the one everyone is exasperated with. Sure.. she's always late.. but she's probably helping someone in need, or loving her children. 

I wish I were more like this woman who cheated on her husband. Sometimes, she's so beautiful and fierce she makes me uncomfortable, but then she smiles and you can tell she's 100% full of love and acceptance. 

Who are these people in your life?

The people who exist outside of your comfort zone. 

The issue is you. You don't like them because they make you uncomfortable. 

Does that not then, make their marginalization your problem? Not theirs?

Some of us live our lives on display. Believe it or not, I do not like to be the center of attention (I have too many flaws-- obviously) but I do not believe in conformity for conformity's sake. It is difficult for me to be still and quiet in the face of what seems to be injustice. By marginalizing one another, we are defining each other by our life circumstances and not by our character. We are at a loss, my friends!

I hope you all can come over for dinner sometime ;) I'll be posting pictures of our renovations soon!

xoxo

Sarah

Salutations

Hello Friends,

Hello People who aren't my friends,

Hello Random reader who could be my friend,

Let's recap.

No house.

Live with Andy's Parents.

Tubal litigation

Nervous breakdown.

PMDD diagnosis. Who knew?

Treatment.

Stabilization.

Realization that I'm becoming one of those people with a list of diseases. 

Plus side? I'm really lucky because there are treatments for all of them and for the last month I have been more stable and happy than I have been in a long time.

Andy has been... amazing. It is as if this situation has turned on some light bulbs for both of us. It's hard not to see it as a blessing. He has developed a determination to be a stable father and husband. He wants us to spend time as a family. We went to Dan Nicholas last weekend with some friends. It was so fantastic. He has also been seeing a therapist twice a month to help to work through that stuff we all have to deal with. Some of us can work it out on our own, and some need a little assistance. Andy was one of the best choices I ever made. I have serious respect for his work ethic and determination. I'll stop I'll stop! Sorry, it's hard not to gush.

We've signed a lease for a rental home! My mom told me that I could make anything look like it was out of an HGTV special (As my darling friend Katie would say, "Ain't she sweeeeeet?") and although I don't think that is entirely accurate, I've decided to give it my best shot. I have painted the kitchen cabinets teal and the walls yellow. My bathroom is orange, my couch is bright red. I'm filling my new home with hope and happy colors. Warmth, comfort and low stress is the goal. This will mean organization... because it's not a huge house.. but there are a few pluses. Specifically the school system. It's in Jamestown which is one of the best areas in Guilford County.

Augie (16 mo) is running around like a crazy kid these days. I have dubbed him the Minister of Silly Walks because he wants to go faster than his short little legs will take him... and tends to waddle. He says, "Hey!", "Daa-deee", "Ma!" and various other grunts. He knows where his belly button is and thinks his nose is his mouth. He likes to destroy things I clean. He likes peanut butter and jelly and if he's ever fussy in the car, I have to play Ellie Goulding and he'll just start dancing. He sings and dances to his own little tune.. "Yeah yeah yeah yeah...."I love that kid.

Every time I talk to Haddie she sounds so happy. She has been staying with my mom and grandmother a few times a week and from what I understand, she is going back to her old daycare for a little while until Kindergarten. She has become incredibly articulate and wants to understand how everything works. I see so much potential in that child. She even wrote her first song with my grandmother the other day. (My little genius)

Cary (7) is in that in between stage.. between little boy and preteen. He still loves to cuddle on the couch and watch movies... but he also loves to play his dad in put put. He gets on the ground and shoots the golf ball like he's shooting pool. He always has an interesting perspective on the world. I hate to correct him on technically inaccurate information sometimes because I love how out of the box he thinks. He loves to draw and he loves music. He is playing baseball this year, which he can't quite decide how he feels about. On one hand, he wants to be just like his big brother and on the other, he hits foul balls that smack him square in the eye.-- No lie.. but he still persevered and continued to hit. I can't wait to see how he develops.

Cole (10... going on 25) is so freaking cool. He's incredibly smart and notices everything. We have so much fun together. The other night, when Cary didn't eat his dinner, just Cole and I went to Coldstone and had a really good time. He tells me stories about his life, the things he loves and the people he loves and I rarely want the car rides to end. He's a sports nut. Andy told him he may want to consider other options just in case something happens and sports as a career don't work out. Cole's eyes may as well have read "Does Not Compute". He's driven, and stubborn and strong. Every once in a while you can see his sweet little boy side and it's like you fall in love all over again.

I'm exhausted but I wanted to write this to say,

  "He who has a 'why' to live, can bear almost any 'how'.." Friedrich Nietzsche

Life can stack stone after stone on your back but eventually they erode and peace fills their cracks. You are not alone in this world. That thing that is plaguing your mind, someone else is plagued too. No one has to wear the facade of "got it all together" anymore. Take the things that make you different and embrace them. Welcome them like old friends and refurbish them, making them useful.

All my love
xoxo
Sarah

Movement...

I was watching Soul Pancake (Rainn Wilson's upstart- aka Dwight Shrute) and came across a sweet video that they had posted on January 23rd. It was called, "A letter to a person on their first day here..." but I think it should just be a letter to every person.  Here's an excerpt:

"Some days gross things will happen. Some days awesome things will happen. Some days you’ll get ice cream. Some days you won’t. Some days your kite will fly high. Some days it gets stuck in a tree. That’s just how it is here.

There’s plenty of reasons to dance. You just got to look for them. Don’t worry though. You won’t be doing this alone. You’re going to meet lots of people here. Some of them will be really nice and some won’t be. It’s not that they can’t be. It’s just – maybe they’re just having a bad day.

Being a person is hard sometimes. You should give people high fives just for getting out of bed. Oh, high fives! I forgot to explain that. How do I explain this? Um…It’s kind of high fives are like hitting someone who is your friend. Uh, that’s really bad.

Just treat everybody like it’s their birthday even if they don’t deserve it, because we all mess up sometimes. The biggest mess up? Not forgiving each other’s mess ups.

Maybe you’ll be a teacher. Maybe you’ll be President. Maybe you’ll cure every disease ever. You might even see the Grand Canyon, swim in the ocean. Oh this is so, so much. It’s a lot. Try this, take a breath. Isn’t that amazing? It’s called breathing! You’re going to do it a lot. But nobody knows exactly how much. So enjoy it.

Pay attention. Take brain pictures, because amazing things will happen every day. You’re going to do so much. But it’s not about what you do. It’s about who you are.

You? You’re awesome. You were made that way. You were made from love, to be love, to spread love. Love is always louder, no matter what. Even if hate has a bullhorn, love is louder. So let your life be loud. Let’s shout to the world. Things can be better! It’s okay about all the mess ups! Corn dogs rule! Sorry, I just keep bringing that up.

I don’t think I told you this yet. We’re really glad you’re here. We don’t say that enough to each other here because, well, life gets busy.

You’re going to be important and you’re going to do a lot and you’re going to smell great. But don’t get too busy.

Remember to let everybody know you’re glad they’re here. You don’t have to remember all of this right now. You’re going to need a pep talk sometimes. And that’s okay.

For now, remember this: You’re awake. You’re awesome. Live like it."

While I was watching the video my heart kept lurching. What a message. 

I don't think these things get said enough. Dr. Seuss said, "Today you are you, that is truer than true. There is no one alive that it you-er than you."  

Be encouraged, friends :) "Even if hate has a bullhorn, love is louder. So let your life be loud. Lets shout to the world. Things can be better! It's okay about all the mess ups!"

Dear Diary, I mean... Dear friends.. family.. and billions of others I don't know....

I haven't written on this is about a week +, for good reason.

To name a few:

- embarrassment.Not everyone can say they suffered a nervous breakdown... on the internet.

- confusion. I had no idea what I would say if I were to sit and try to type.

- time. I spent a week in Virginia with my Aunt Melissa and Uncle Ron. 

- I was enjoying myself too much to approach the elephant in the room. 

- I have been rather worried about what may come out were I to start writing....

Here Mister Elephant...

So here's how I explained it to Andy... some people choose depression, some people have it forced on them genetically, and some have it forced on them... period. Unlike other lifelong health issues, depression can not be cured by switching to water instead of diet Pepsi. Also, depression isn't a coping mechanism(a way people deal with bad stuff...), its an inability to cope.

Part of my writing this blog, is saying that I am okay with what I am. I am okay enough to put it on display for thousands (3500 to be exact) of people to read and have the ability to make commentary. This is not a cry for attention. This is my heart, in hopes that those who may struggle with being human can have hope. There are good days and there are bad days. There are pregnancies and losses, and the hormonal fluctuations that follow each. My first trip to the hospital was immediately followed by my starting my period for the first time since the loss of my pregnancy. Yeah. I'd say there was more to the past few weeks than black and white mental instability.

First: Andy dumped all of my medications down the toilet a few weeks ago. Anti-depressants, ADHD.. all of it and I am on things that doctors don't just refill. I hope that this blog post is concise and comprehensible.

Second: When one has PTSD, it can take some time to heal. Heal... not just bury. I buried my feelings on all of this for months. I am addressing these issues one at a time, but it takes time.

Third: It is a well known fact among those who have been placed on the ADHD spectrum, that one's life is generally filled with unwise choices, confusion and sometimes mass hysteria. This is an incredibly common occurrence. This fact alone allows me to look at myself in the mirror every day. I was trying to live life like a normal person. Now I live life like a normal person with ADHD. It requires organization (I bought a calendar book...), therapy- generally for the choices you make and coping with them..., often medication... but that's not mandatory and the ability to breathe through one's brain clutter and calm the mind.

Finally: When one has ADHD, and PTSD (all the acronyms!!!!) in combination with one another, it can be very difficult to progress. I was warned about this months and months ago by a man with 50 years of experience in the mental health field. Part of progressing is accepting that having these fears and feelings is natural and healthy. To not be affected would be the opposite. Part of my regression has been the lack of control I have had over the last few months. The house, the baby... I couldn't change anything.

Looking at my life has been difficult. I tend to see the overall picture instead of living day by day. That's generally the problem. One day at a time is difficult when those around you don't understand it or you. I am realizing that in writing this blog, while making myself transparent for those who may need reassurance (nothings better than knowing someone else is crazier than you ;) I was also opening myself up for misunderstanding. For example, after one of my blogs.. my best friend called the cops thinking that I had made a real suicide attempt, when a few days prior I had taken a large quantity of Klonopin. Andy realized something was wrong immediately and asked me how many I had taken, when I told him, he had me throw them up. I had taken around 6 times the recommended amount, 6 pills.

I had hoped that writing this blog could help some of you to understand the girl behind the life choices and with some it has. My aunt and uncle listened patiently for almost 3 hours, asking questions, wanting to understand. They treated me with respect and honor.The time I spent with them did my heart some serious good. During that time I decided to request that Haddie go to live with her father on a more permanent basis, not because my heart does not ache every time I walk into her bedroom or fold her clothes... but because I know that her family is there. She is so much happier where she is. It breaks my heart to not be able to play with her curls and watch a movie after Augie goes to bed... I talked to her tonight and her sigh after she said, "I miss you.." made me cry, but she IS better off there. Haddie needs a significant amount of one on one attention. I have a hard enough time maintaining normal attention, let alone the extensive amounts needed for her to properly and confidently develop.

I love my kids. I love my boyfriend. I love my family. If I didn't, I don't think this blog would exist. I don't know how to cope with the events that have transpired in the last 3-5 years. I am sure that each of you would have dealt with these things differently. Many would have, but that's the beauty of humanity isn't it? We're all so very different. I am simply a complex creation of millions of circumstances and choices made by each of us.

I love you all and I want to say thank you to the women who stuck with me. The private messages on Facebook, the text messages, the hey hey hey hey hey hey SARAH.. TALK TO ME SARAH. I needed you. Thank you for not letting me go. The few of you know who you are. I love you. I love you. I love you. You are so very special to me.

Foundations

Foundation. Merriam-Webster has about five different definitions for the word, but the one that I like the best goes as follows: a body or ground upon which something is built up or overlaid.

The word brings to mind concrete, cinder blocks, or large stones. Something hard. Something strong. Something capable of supporting immense weights.

The keystone is another weight-bearing device. Again, Merriam-Websters has several definitions but my favorite is: something on which associated things depend for support. Keystones are interesting and different from foundations. Without them the arch cannot stand, but they also need foundations. The keystone does not support the weight of the arch, but is the single most important piece in it.

There are several different kinds of foundations in the construction industry. Slab-on-grade foundations are shallow foundations that are most often constructed of reinforced concrete. Slab-on-grade foundations can be built quickly and are relatively inexpensive to build. The function of a slab-on-grade foundation is not to resist or limit the amount of heave that might occur beneath a slab foundation, but to move up and down with the shrink and heave. Slab-on-grade houses do not have basements. Shallow foundations are susceptible to seasonal movement from rainfall, drought, freeze/thaw cycles, and temperature changes and transpiration of moisture thru the roots of large plants and trees. These types of foundations are meant to be flexible with their environment. Not to resist changes, but to kind of move with them.

Pier and beam foundations, as the name suggests, are a concrete footing and pier which supports wood beams and floor joists. These foundations usually have crawl spaces underneath the home. These types of foundations would appear to have all the weight supported in a few spaces, instead of spread out over the space of a whole slab. One would think that there would be immense amounts of pressure in a small area with this set up.

Basements are most often constructed in northern climates where freeze/thaw conditions occur and the footing depth must extend beneath the frost line—often four or more feet below the surface. In many of these cases, builders will go ahead and excavate for a basement and build basement walls that provide the support for the house. The bottom of the basement is typically below the depth over which the majority of the soil’s shrink or swell due to climate occurs. Basements can suffer basement floor heave and lateral wall movement, however. Deep foundations reach depths that are not normally affected by seasonal environmental changes and are considered to be out of the zone of influence.

There are a multitude of other types of both shallow and deep foundations. Each of these have their benefits and drawbacks. Slab on grade is meant to go with the flow. Deep foundations are meant to be so deep that nothing affects them.

The major benefit to going with the flow is that the foundation moves with what’s under it and doesn’t upset the things that it supports all that much. Going with the flow, however, can take you places that you do not want to go, that are out of your comfort zone, if you let it. Deep foundations are strong. They’re meant to be. Rigid, unbending, immovable. All these can be great charactristics to build upon. However, if things are to rigid, when something moves, the foundation may just crack and break because it is so inflexible, and the whole thing comes crashing down.

This leads us to what in the world do you do if your foundation breaks, cracks, or becomes incapable of supporting the weight that it once did?

 

Do you discard your house? Just give it up for a new one? Do you just say “Ah, it’s just too much trouble to deal with. “ What if you love your home and do not want to give it up? Well in that case you do what you have to do to repair your foundation.  You may have to jack up your house, show the foundation some TLC, then set the house back down on it. Sometimes you can just fill in underneath the foundation with more concrete, thereby giving it the support it needs to continue doing its job. Other times the cracks maybe small and merely cosmetic, but you still should address these as soon as possible, lest they become bigger cracks, and bigger problems. A lot of money and a lot of time can be invested in fixing your foundation. But, you have to remember, that you are protecting your most valuable asset.

Imagine being someone’s foundation, or keystone. The rock that they build on. Their very lives. This is a big responsibility. A person might be fine with it at first. Able to support all that weight. They may even come to grow accustomed to it and love it. But sooner or later, just like any foundation that is built on imperfect ground (and we are all imperfect), you will crack. Hell, you may have been cracked to begin with and the cracks just weren’t noticeable. If you crack or were already cracked, then eventually whats built on top of you will crack and began to lean. If you are someone else’s foundation, who fixes you when you are broke? If we use the construction analogy, who, or what supports the weight while you are being fixed? What if you are dealing with a dual foundation issue? This is when you are someone’s foundation and they are yours. What do you do when your both broken? Spit and glue? That repair will not last long, and the damage will come back, often worse than before. Maybe you fix one up proper, and then come back and fix the other. Do you just throw it all away, and build a new foundation on someone else? I think I prefer to spend my time, effort, and money (which is not necessarily currency) to repair the foundation. I want to stay in the house that I love so much. It has it’s little, shall we say, imperfections, but I would not love it if it were any other way. All great houses have little imperfections. Little things that make them…well….them. I don’t know how I will go about jacking myself up and repairing the cracks, but I think that a wise woman has given me an idea of where to start. And just like a concrete foundation, I’ve sucked up a lot of moisture, and it’s already started to crack me. I’ve been cracked for some time. I need repairing, and the easiest way to repair something is to get rid of what is causing the cracks, then you repair them. So, I think that sometime soon, I too will start spitting out all the moisture that is getting in the very fiber of my being and cracking me. Then maybe the repair process can begin. Then maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to be that foundation that is needed again.

Thanks for listening....Andy

The Wisdom to Know the Difference....

"I have some experience in dealing with people who have mental illness and depression, but I didn't see the signs in myself. I couldn't ask for help because I didn't know I needed help."- Clara Hughes

Before I began writing this, my hands sat still on the keyboard a while. Questions like, "What do I say? What do I not say? How do I say it?" flashed through my brain. Judgement and assumptions that people would make danced around in my brain like Liesl and Friedrich (The Sound of Music) in that glass atrium. 

Gail Porter says,"I want to break down some of the stigma associated with mental illness."

I suppose that's why I'm writing this. You see, this weekend I was admitted into High Point Regional's Behavioral Health unit for PTSD, severe depression and anxiety.

My brain is similar to a large pot of spaghetti. All of my thoughts, pressures, joys and concerns are all connected but in my case, that spaghetti is a part of a whirling vortex. The added spaghetti noodles eventually caused collapse. I couldn't see a way out of our issues.  

Honestly?  I didn't want to live anymore.

Spaghetti Vortex 

Instead of going through with it, I called my therapist Kathie. She was very kind to me and encouraged me to check myself into the hospital where I could take a break from the whirlwind and get my head on straight. I am so glad I went. Embarrassed, but glad. I met some beautifully broken people with hearts the size of Texas. Bigger heart=more square footage for those knives to dig in. I was blessed to be there.

My self esteem is crappy. Instead of getting defensive when someone critiques me (generally very passive aggressively) I often accept it, take it to heart, and then use it as a baseball bat to beat myself every time I screw something up. Please don't respond to this post with a "But Sarah... you're so.."
I'm just being honest. I need "me" time to take care of myself but I can't justify it.

I over analyze everything... really... everything. "Me" time is a few moments where I can sort out some of the calamity and make room for the next. I haven't had much of that lately... but neither has Andy. The kids need us, the house is perpetually dirty even though I just cleaned it.

I spent 4 days there creating a new stereotype for myself.
Hello, my name is Sarah, and I have a problem.
My brain is broken.
Something about the body not producing enough serotonin blah blah.

My heart aches.
For the guy who was next to me in the emergency room.
He was faking pain so that he could get pain killers.
For my friend Daniel, detoxing from a Heroin/Cocaine addiction, and terrified that he wouldn't make it to a long term rehab facility in time. Terrified for his wife and 6 kids.
Wondering if his life would be lost to this chemical his body craves.
For the abused. For the weak. For the woman who blacks out in anger due to a bipolar disorder and wakes up to a mistake she can't undo.

It's all so heavy.
Does it weigh on you too?
The brokenness of the human race is screaming for mercy.

My heart can't handle reality.
That's why I've always written stories in my head.
Pharmaceutical companies created short term relief in the form of Anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medications. I feel like an old woman. I need one of those pill sorters.

I have considered going to a longer program (30 days or so...) to really pull myself and my thinking back to something more stable. Unfortunately, nothing like that exists...well not that insurance will pay for. So, I've been in touch with local facilities that do Intensive Outpatient treatment three days a week. I don't know if that will teach me to "accept the things I can't control.." (The Serenity Prayer) but it's a step in the right direction. Eventually, I'll make a really banging spaghetti.