Dear Grief...

Dear Grief,

You are weird. You’re like the new kid in school that I so desperately want to help. I want to make you feel comfortable in your new digs and help my friends and family find out what you’re all about, but I also want to keep you at arm’s length because I just don’t understand you.

You’re confusing.

You make me laugh and smile sometimes, and at other times it feels like you are literally trying to take my heart out with your tiny little hands – while laughing, you’re always laughing.

You show up at the most inconvenient times, totally uninvited, and act as though the party is completely for you. It’s not. It’s not about you. It’s about ME! This is my life and you’re totally ruining it.

And the worst part of this whole thing is I invited you a number of times and you no-showed.

I invited you to come hang when my Dad was first diagnosed.

I invited you to come when I ended my relationship.

I invited you to come when my Dad passed.

And you kept turning me down. You were too busy washing your hair or something like that – I forget what excuse you gave me.

It wasn’t until I was starting to be ok with the fact that you had written me off that you ended up not only showing up, but bringing your whole damn family. Like, you didn’t even ask if that was ok!

You’ve definitely overstayed your welcome in the short time I’ve known you, but in some weird way I have a feeling we’ll be lifelong acquaintances.

I hope you caught that. You’re an acquaintance. I’ll never consider you a friend.

I wish I never met you. I wish I never introduced you to my friends and family. I wish you never moved to my neck of the woods.

I’m not sure who I dislike more – you or cancer – but in some weird way, you guys are similar. You too taught me something very important.

You taught me that my heart is capable of more than I ever could have imagined. That I can (and do) love greatly. That the people in my life mean more to me than I’ll ever realize until they are gone. And that I am a human with real emotions who hurts just like everyone else.

You taught me that I can’t control everything and I can’t keep you from visiting my loved ones.

If I fund the trip, do you think you and cancer can take a long drive off a short cliff? I’ll even buy the car…

Dear Cancer...

Dear Cancer,

Fuck you. 

I’d say pardon my French but at this point the last time I’m worried about is offending you.

You took him from me and that is an act I’ll ever forgive you for, or ever be OK with.

My heart hurts.

My heart hurts when I see his face in that chair, struggling to breathe. My heart hurts when I see the pain on my sisters’ faces.

My heart hurts when I see wedding photos of friends with their fathers and remind myself I’ll never have that.

You showed up at the worst time. Not that there ever really is a good time for you to arrive. You were the driving wrench in an already-weak point in my life that shattered the perfect bubble I was so comfy in.

You laughed in my face when I told everyone he was doing better. You made me look like a liar and you took him anyway.

I hate you. I mean that with my entire heart and my entire being. I hate you.

And at the same time, you taught me an incredible lesson.

You took pity on me and gave me 4 more months to make amends; to selfishly attempt to make up for lost time. It still wasn't enough time. No amount of time could have been enough though.

You taught me that life is precious and family is everything – even when they say things that leave scars on the heart.

You toughened me up a little bit. Not necessarily in a good way, but not all bad either. I did things over second half of this year that I didn't think I was capable of. I surprised myself. I did really hard things. 

I’ll never be ok with you. I’ll never like you. I’ll never thank you. And I’ll never wish you upon anyone else for as long as I shall live.

If I never hear from you again it’d be too soon.

Thankful

November is a time for thanks. Always has been and always will be. But using the Thanksgiving holiday to share what I’m thankful for just didn’t seem right to me. 

I’m thankful that my Dad and I were able to mend years of a rocky relationship in 4 months, but I wish I had more time to fix things. 

I’m thankful that I ended a relationship that was more toxic than loving, but I wish I had the guts to do it months prior to when I actually did. 

I’m thankful that my Mom and Stepdad took me into their home during the worst few months of the worst time of my life, but regretful that I’m not standing on my own two feet at age 31 years with a pup tagging along. 

2016 has not been a fun one for me. But, it was sure a year of growth.

For as long as I can remember I’ve been focused on other people. Making sure others had what they needed to feel secure, to feel happy, and to feel whole. And in doing that, I’ve allowed myself to get to a point where I feel battered, bruised, and broken. 

Ok, maybe that’s a bit harsh. But, I finally see that it’s ok to be selfish and to focus all of your time and energy on yourself. 

After all, who else is going to love you like you love you? 

December will be a time of change. It will be the one month in year of 2016 where I live my life the way I want to live it, with whoever makes my soul sing and my face hurt from laughing. It will be a month where I focus on my health and the balance between good for me and bad for me. And it will be a month where I look 2016 in the face and give it the finger, shouting from the rooftops that I’m not messin’ around anymore. 

2017 though, that’s going to be the year of big change. That’s going to be the year that shit gets real. 

Visions will be defined. Action steps will be put in place. Goals will be reached. And I will allow myself to be completely happy with no strings attached. 

To just be. 

I’m not going to go into it too much now, but I’m accepting my grief. The fact that I am human enough to have loved as much as I did/do and to feel this pain in my heart speaks wonders to me. The human body is an incredible thing, and emotions truly do wonders to your body – both in a positive and a negative sense. 

I have so much to share on my experiences throughout this year, and specifically the last few months. I am so thankful and grateful that you guys still come here to read my thoughts. And I do hope you stick around, because there is much more coming. 

Grief

Grief sucks. 

I always knew that and expected it. People who have gone through it before tried to help me prepare for it.  But living it is a whole other ball game.

September 30 my Dad died. I watched it happen. It was an out of body experience that I relive every time I close my eyes. I’m not going into detail because I wouldn’t be able to do him any justice by sharing the worst moment of everyone’s life. And I don’t have the mental capacity to share all of the amazing things about him.

Just know that if I ever get married, my husband has some crazy big shoes to fill. Because James Muller was one hell of a man.

Grief. It’s like that gas bubble that sits in the middle of your chest. You feel it every time you take a sip of your drink, or swallow a bite of food. You feel it in that moment when your crazy day stops and you can take a breath, or when your mind starts to wander during your commute to/from work.

It. Doesn’t. Go. Away.

I’m stuck between two things. 1) The thought that I have to cry all day to mourn his passing and pay respect to him the way he deserves and 2) The thought that he’d HATE that and want me to carry on with my day and my life, focusing on work and getting my life back together.

I’m a Type-A personality. I like things organized, planned out, and crave routine. I like stability.

In 2 months I’ve had my routine upturned twice, my heart broken twice, and have not gotten the chance to grieve either life experience OR create a new routine.

And it’s messing with me.

A friend of mine the other day said to focus on the things that make me happy. So, my Type A personality planned out the next 2 months of my life so I can, in a way, make appointments for the things I enjoy.

My workouts are planned out by the time I’m going to do them. My food is planned out by the hour that I’ll eat it. And I’m in the process of working out some blog posts to get back to sharing things with you guys.

Some people find it odd that I put things out there so publicly. But, it’s therapeutic. Even this post. For days I’ve had it in my head – what I wanted so hare. And I was avoiding sitting down and hitting the keys. But once those fingers start moving, free therapy starts flowing.

I can’t promise the next 2 months will be filled with rainbows and butterflies, but I can promise that big change is going to happen for me. I’m both excited and scared for it, but the time has come to say goodbye and I’ve got to get started on my next chapter.

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If you’re still here, thanks for reading. And thank you in advance for keeping me and my family in your prayers as we trudge through this stage of grief.

Two months

September 17 marked my 2-month anniversary of my relationship ending. My palms still sweat when I think about what my life looked like at this time last year and what it looks like now.

The comfort of my former home, of my own space and own kitchen. The comfort of knowing that someone was always there waiting for me (even though he had emotionally checked out by this time last year and began traveling solo a lot). The comfort of routine.

Break ups are not easy. Not only does it take an emotional toll on the two parties involved, but it has a ripple effect on all aspects of life.

The thing to remember is that the pain and discomfort is temporary. It’s not going to last forever (thankfully). And when the pain starts to go away you feel relief, gain clarity, and are grateful.

I’ve gotten there. I’m SO excited to say that it’s only take me 2 months (almost literally to the day) to get there. And boy oh boy does it feel good.

Love Update
When I ended my almost 4-year relationship I jumped right back into the dating field. Online profiles put up, men who reached out through FB got a date, and I exuded my “say yes to everything” mentality in everything I did. I had the time of my life!

Happy hours with girlfriends, first (and sometimes second) dates, coffee with old friends… I entertained distractions from wherever I could get them and it completely helped with my mourning.

And then, right around my mom’s birthday (September 14) I decided that I was done with the distraction/grieving and needed to get my life in order. Finances, fitness, routine, living situation… all of it needed to be organized. This Type A gal was done living by her bootstraps.

They always say, when you stop looking it happens. And it did. If only temporarily, I felt what it felt like to be happy again. 

Dad update

Unless you’re new around here you’d know that my dad is battling Stage 3A Lung Cancer. He started strong in his battle – ready to tackle the disease and rid himself of the pain.

This journey has been trying. His patience is wearing thin and he’s tired of fighting. Although he’s not thrown in the towel, I’m grateful that he only has one more chemo treatment before “we wait” and see what the tests say.

I’m grateful to work in an organization that has taught me patience. To take his pain and his yelling and know that it’s not directed at me, it’s just he needs to get it out. Although it’s not easy to constantly be the punching bag (since he doesn’t have many others to take it out on) I’m grateful that he trusts me enough to let it out and let his guard down.

One thing is for sure – my dad and I have grown tremendously close throughout this entire process. And after years of our relationship dwindling thanks to differences I’m not going to discuss here, things are back to the way they should be.

Now, peace out cancer.

Blog update

I miss blogging. And I know I’ve said that so many times in the past. But, using this blog is my form of therapy. To write things out on “paper” and share them with you guys for feedback, encouragement, sometimes constructive criticism, and to celebrate the good and the bad.

Consistency with it is my downfall. Between building up my girlfriendships, a budding romantic relationship, being a fur-mom, and trying to reach some big personal goals I find it a challenge to make time to sit down and share with you.

I’m not going to promise consistency. I’m not going to promise a weekly post. But, I do promise to share with you guys from time to time how life is going – the good, bad, and ugly.

So there you have it. 2 months later and this old girl is still truckin’ along.

A life update...

I started 2016 with an amazing outlook. I had so much going for me and was confident that the year would bring big life changes, positive gains, and a fresh look on the life I wanted to have. 

And then, the universe laughed as I toasted my champagne and thought to itself, “Girl, better buckle your seatbelt!”

June 3 my Dad was diagnosed with Stage 3A lung cancer. I can’t say that I was surprised – after all, he’s lost a lot of weight in the past few months and seems to have aged tremendously. Additionally, he’s been a smoker for 41 years. 

However, that does not make it any easier to digest. Thankfully, I was able to distract myself by focusing on paperwork and action steps to make sure he could get the treatment he needed at a bill we could afford (Read: FREE [to us anyway]). 

As things with my Dad started to align and I could finally breathe a little bit, July 17 (coincidentally his birthday), B and I ended our relationship. I struggle with that phrase though, “B and I ended our relationship.” The truth is, he emotionally checked out months ago and I was holding on for dear life.

Yet, I too had emotionally checked out months ago. I wasn’t holding onto him per se, I was holding on to what we had – a home, a family (the fur kind), a life, plans, vacations, joint accounts….

After Year 2, the relationship changed pretty drastically. I had said it was just growing pains and a temporary state. But, I knew in my heart that the flame was fizzling quickly and there wasn’t any coming back from it. After all, I told one of my best friends back in March that I knew what I had to do, I just didn’t want to do it yet. 

This Type-A personality is in shambles. I’m in a temporary living situation while I get my life together, and am grateful for that because I can focus on helping my Dad kick cancer’s ass. But, it’s a challenge to go from having your own home for 3+ years – your own kitchen, bedroom, bathroom – to sharing it all except a bedroom with three adults and a 7-yr old. 

Am I sad? No. Yes. Sort of?

I’m sad and disappointed in myself that I didn’t leave when things were done on my end (which to be honest, was almost a full year ago). I’m sad that the lie I had spent so much time creating was so easy to dismantle. And I’m sad that I overlooked a lot of the red flags that I knew I didn’t want to be my future because I was content.

But, I’m happy. REALLY freaking happy. I feel like I’m becoming myself again. I can focus on what is important to me and what makes me happy, rather than compromising for someone else. I now have the time to make movement on my blog, on my personal website, on my future career(s), and now have the opportunity to do what I’ve always said I want to do and possibly move out of the state. 

The best part is that the gate has come down on the road I’ve been down, and there really is no turning back. I’m being pushed forward in every way and I’m grateful for that. The hardest part is ripping off the Band-Aid.

I hope to be more active on this little blog, as it’s lately taken a back seat to sweeping the living room floor and tending to a relationship that was not fixable. 

In other news, would it be weird if Elphie and I send our own Christmas card this year?