Our Love Story

 Veteran's Day has come and gone this year but I wanted to share our love story because I think it's fun (even if I'm the only one). 

When people find out I served in the military, if they're not familiar with my history, there are a couple things that happen:

1) they ask if I met my husband while I was in the military
2) they ask if he served

Neither of those are true. I have known my husband since we were in 6th grade. We met at a church group, and I saw him and thought he was just the cutest thing. We had a date at a movie (I don't remember which one, unfortunately) and when his nana dropped me off, he gave me my first kiss on my porch. 

Soon after, we "broke up." I put broke up in quotes, because at that age, who knows.... lol. 

Despite breaking up, we had a pretty mutual friend circle, for the most part, so I saw him occasionally. We didn't talk for a few years but I always thought he was cute. I don't know what he thought of me back then, but I guess it doesn't matter now.

Fast forward to 2007, my then-employer was having a Christmas party and the person I originally invited flaked on me, so I invited him to go with me after re-connecting at a party the night before. He agreed, and honestly, the rest is history.

We are 6 months too late to call ourselves high school sweethearts, but we have been together since I was 19. He's been THE constant in my adult life, seen me at my best, my worst, and every shade in between. He's my voice of reason, and my best friend...he puts up with all my shit, my attitudes, and he hasn't left yet. He can ground me and put me in my place if I need it, and he always makes me laugh. Of course, the best thing is that he gave me our three kids. He knew I always wanted to be a mom and he made that dream come true. He's followed me along every dream I've had and supported me every step of the way. 

So anyway, that's our story. 15 years, 3 kids, and many more adventures to go.

Travels

Seaside, OR, 2022.

Death and the afterlife

​I think about death quite often.

Or maybe it’s more appropriate to say that I think about what happens after life. Does Heaven exist? What is it like? Who (or what) are we greeted by? If Heaven doesn’t exist, where do we go? Is this it? 

This can’t be it. 

Does it happen in an instant, or is there a waiting period? Do we get to hang around our loved ones, to make sure they’re ok without us?

Are we reincarnated into something else?

I don’t know how someone can answer these questions, so I try not to dwell too often on the unknown. 

One Year

 A few days ago, I celebrated a year of sobriety. 

No alcohol.

This is, I believe, the first time in my adult life that I have gone this far without it.

It wasn't so bad in my 20s. I did the "normal" things, even less than the "normal" person who was in college and/or living away from home.

I don't know when exactly it became more of a crutch, but I remember feeling like I needed it in order to get through things. I would drink to feel numb because I thought chasing that feeling would be better than facing my issues head on.

I could easily drink 3 24 oz Trulys in one night and go to work the next morning. I am aware that Truly's are not hard alcohol, and a lot of people had it worse than me in that regard. I couldn't do much wine because I hated the hangover. I didn't do hard alcohol very often because I didn't like the taste. I didn't drink it for the taste, I drank it for the effect, and that's where I get in trouble. The more I drank, the more I could tolerate, which meant it took longer for me to "catch" the feeling I was chasing (aka the numbness). 

So, what has the past year been like?

It was hard at first...I had to avoid certain grocery stores because they sold the stuff I would drink and it was easily accessible. I remember the small victory I felt the first time I was able to go into one of those stores and not make a B line for the drink section. 

Then came having to cope with things like my emotions, my anxiety, etc., without turning to alcohol. 

This year has been one of reflection, for sure. Accepting things that happened to me in my childhood without just blocking it out. I turned to music....NF has become one of my favorite artists because he talks a lot about that stuff....If you haven't heard of him, listen to his song "Mansion." I feel like that was written in part for me. 

I remember crying the first time I heard the song, "Dear Alcohol" by Dax. "I got wasted cuz I didn't wanna deal with myself tonight, my thoughts get drowned until I feel alright, and I keep drinking till I'm someone I don't recognize..." That whole song is relatable for me. 

I remember before O came along, I kept saying to myself, I don't want my kids to remember this version of me...but that was never enough for me to just stop. The thing about all of this is, we can't stop for someone else...we have to stop for ourselves, and we have to want to stop. I just remember drinking on December 18 or 19 of 2021 and thinking, this is so dumb....so pointless. I want this to be my last one. And it was. 

This begs the question I know you all (all 2 of you reading this) want me to answer: Will I drink again?

The answer isn't that simple. I hate to say it, but I just don't know. Can I be a social drinker, who can drink 1-2 and be good with it, or will the feelings I had come back and I'll return to drinking to feel numb? I don't know, and is it worth the risk to find out? No. At least not right now.

I'm happy with where my life is now. I can see things clearly, I react to things better than I used to, and I am more present. I don't count the hours of the day down so that I can look forward to drinking, I count them down so my kids can go to sleep (okay I'm jokingg!!!). But seriously, I am proud of myself for making it this far and I am excited for what year 2 of sobriety will bring.

Please leave me comments/questions below! I'd love to hear from you!

Until next time, 

E xx

Childhood memories creeping into adulthood

 The memories are a bit foggy, I'll admit...but that's largely due to the fact that I've pushed them away for so long, not wanting to face them, hoping they'll fade.

Newsflash - they don't. If anything, they become more vivid as my children get older. Why? I don't have a solid answer, but if I had to wager a guess, I'd say it's because I know I want so much more for my kids, to hide them from the reality that I went through (more on that in a second).

My daughter is the age I was when the darkest period of my life began. I went through something that no one, especially not a five year old, should ever experience. I cannot even fathom what would happen if she ever went through what I did.

I don't remember his face now, but I remember the night like it just happened, and I'll always remember his name. I remember being pushed into a closet, telling me he just wanted to show me something, then just as quickly, his tip was inside me. Moments (or seconds) later, his mom, who was responsible for myself and my brother that night, opened the closet door in horror, and pulled me out of there like it was my fault.

Why am I reliving this moment? Why don't I just let it go?

Not a day goes by that I don't think about what would happen if my daughter were ever in this position. See, it happened to me, and no one believed me because I was so young; there's no way I could possibly know what any of that meant. I don't know what's worse - actually being in that moment and having that nightmare happen, or the fact that no one believed me afterwards.

WRONG.

I used to just push these feelings and thoughts away with alcohol, but after a while, it didn't work...that was never the solution, but I didn't know how else to handle it.

For those who don't know, my last drink was on December 18, 2021. Since then, I have been forced to face all of these repressed memories head on. I don't do therapy (not against it, I've just never done it), so this has been difficult. I am hoping there is someone out there who reads this and can feel better knowing they're not alone in experience, feelings, emotions, etc. It can get better.

That night was over 20 years ago. Things happened before and after that that I may touch on, because so much of it has shaped me today...but I just want whoever is reading this to know that it can and does get better. Your life doesn't have to be determined by crappy moments in your childhood. 

Big and small days

 

There are the big days when I think of you; your birthday, the day you died, Father’s Day…all the holidays that you’re no longer here for.

Then there are the small days when I just miss you. The ordinary, nothing special days, when I wish I could call you, tell you about work, ask your advice, hear you laugh again, hug you one more time, tell you about something I saw that reminded me of you…at the end of the day, those ordinary moments are what I hold on to and what I will try my hardest to never forget. Today is a small day, right now is one of those moments.

What I long for most is a picture of us, so I can revisit a memory…but all I have are a handful of memories that fade a little more each day. I rely on those who knew you to keep your memory and spirit alive, and tell me things about you that I wouldn’t have known.

It's true what people say, that it gets easier but we never get over it.

Grief is an interesting thing; most days I'm ok. Sometimes I feel like I'm drowning.

Where to start…

 I’m ready to bring this blog back. I have so much to say and I just want to help people. Or relate to people, I don’t know. 

I’ve had so much growth, reflection, and change over this past year…I want to get it out, not just leave it in my head.

I want to talk about motherhood, as a working mom with three kids. I want to talk about my oldest sons journey with autism. I want to talk about mental health and a lifelong battle with anxiety, depression, and how alcohol has played into all of that. I want to be real about my struggles with food, alcohol, and managing (or not) my emotions and my temper. I will also talk about my journey with the Navy because that was a fair chapter of my life. 

I’d like to check in at least once a week. If you haven’t subscribed, make sure you do. 

See you soon. 

Bittersweet

It’s weird admitting out loud that this baby will be our last. We wanted more, but due to unforeseen circumstances, we decided to stop at this one.

I’ve been going through things - baby clothes and shoes, and reminiscing about when they wore them and how quickly time has gone by. At the end of the day they’re just things, but what’s sentimental is the memories of what they looked like when they were small. It’s unreal.

I have 2 more months of this pregnancy and I’ll admit, it doesn’t feel like I’ve soaked it up enough. I’ve been stressed out because of everything happening in the world, I don’t think I’ve taken the time to really enjoy it. I don’t enjoy every aspect, I’ll be honest...but the things I will never feel again - hiccups, baby kicks from the inside, and perhaps my favorite thing - when R says “hi, baby” and kisses my belly (even if he does it a hundred times a day) - those are things I am trying to soak in.

So begins my series of “lasts,” instead of firsts....

A new chapter. 

Post Mother's Day Realizations

Yesterday was an interesting day, much like most days.

It didn't feel out of the ordinarily special. My guess is that when the kids are young, they don't understand that Mother's Day is a day to celebrate mom's and give them a day off. If they do understand, my kids didn't get the memo.

Let me preface the following by saying I love my kids. I have always dreamed of being a mom, and I know that I'm pretty lucky because there are thousands of women who want children and are unable to conceive or carry to term.

This season of life is so hard. I don't know if it's because of the kids ages (5 and 3), or because I'm working from home (thanks, COVID), or some other factor that I'm not considering, but I find myself angry all the time. I seem to yell at the kids more than praise them, barking at them to get out of there, close the door, stop doing this or that...all the while, that anger should be going somewhere else. I count the hours till bedtime and then feel guilty after they're finally asleep, wishing I would have done things differently. It's a vicious cycle.

The problem is, I don't have an outlet. Since I am working from home, I don't have a work/life balance. I'm at a computer from 8am-5pm M-F BUT I'm right in my living room. I still cook breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and try to keep them entertained (thanks, Peppa Pig). To say I need a break is an understatement. Maybe that's wrong, though. Maybe I need a hobby. There are things I used to love to do that I don't do anymore; take reading for example. My reading list is just about as long as my shopping list! I do not have an outlet for these misplaced emotions. I want to articulate everything to D but I don't know where to start. We are opposites in this, in that he loves being at home and away from people, whereas I would rather work at work and be at home after work. I know that I should cherish this time with the kids as they won't be this young again and all that, and I want to...but we also have bills to pay. It is so hard for me to take a break and let them be kids outside for an hour when it's within my 'workday'... it sucks, sometimes.

Mother's Day made me realize that on most days, I don't think I'm a good mom. It also helped me see that I need to work really hard on shifting my priorities, time management, schedules, communicating, and a slew of other issues. Above all, I need to be better about my patience and showing more love to the kids.

End of the year update

The hard times

Parenthood is hard.

Motherhood is harder.

Transitioning from a stay at home mom to a working mom has been one of the hardest transitions I've ever made, and I'm still working on it.

As with most things, I have good days and bad. I get frustrated when I'm home because I have zero personal space. They want to be around me and I should revel in it, but I tend to get irritated instead.

Today, I visited my son at school and he didn't want me to go. It broke my heart. I hate everything I'm missing out on, and I hate not being home everyday for them.

I want them to know that I love them more than anything, and I hope that they know that every single thing I do is because of and for them.