Dear Whoever You Are,
I am starting this blog over. Whether you know me or not, pretend that you do not. Empty your mind of all preconceived notions you may have of me. You do not know my face. You do not recognize the sound of my voice. You do not know how old I am, where I live, or whether or not I have a family.
So let me tell you. Empty your mind and let me paint you a picture of my current self (the past is too much for me to tackle at present).
I am 26 years old. I address my age as "over a quarter of a century old", as this is how I often feel. Why? I am a mother of two energy-sapping tykes: both boys. Christopher is 7 and Nicholas will be 2 in October (I never could stand the mothers who would measure their baby's age in months. I suppose if you WERE one of those people, my son would be *counts* 21 3/4 months. If that is not accurate enough for you, I don't know what to tell you).
I have brown hair that is an inch shy of being shoulder length. I keep it layered, and I trim it myself. Some people will swear that I have blue eyes and others will promise they are green. I can only tell you that I think they are neither, and a rather pleasant hue somewhere in the middle. I feel I am decent looking: I may even be pretty. I rarely use the word "beautiful" to describe myself in my head, but maybe I have a few times when I am all dolled up. I am "overweight" for being only 5'5. While I certainly am soft in some areas, I'm just about comfortable with my weight, thought I do wish I were more toned.
I suppose that's all you need to know about my physical appearance for now. Those of you that know me, the description may seem familiar, however the way I have described myself may be new.. so if I am boring you, perhaps take a look instead at the way I view myself rather than the facts I have presented.
So back to the top. Why am I starting my blog over? Because I originally founded this blog for the intents of connecting with others that knew me; keeping my friends or family in the loop. Partly also to vent. I'm sure there are about 100 other smaller reasons why this blog was created in the first place. However, I am re-creating it for one simple reason:
Myself.
This blog is, first and foremost, a self-help journal. I was diagnosed with the beginnings of carpal tunnel a few months ago and I can no longer hold a pen or pencil and write in my coveted notebooks. You may notice the plural. I love to write. I always have. When I was in 4th-7th grade (and probably even longer), I would write for fun. Not just blurbs or journals, but poems and stories - books. I even bound my notebook paper with yarn so the pages were attached like a book, all down the spine rather than just stapled at the top (though some of my stories consisted of too many pages to be held together by a simple staple).
I re-created this blog not caring who - if anyone - would read. I honestly don't care if I have written something about a friend or a family member that may hurt their feelings. This may sound cruel, but everyone has feelings. If I have known you for any period of time, I have probably at one point been hurt or mad or offended by you at some point but if you know me, you know that I forgive and love my friends unconditionally... or at least I do now. I expect the same of my friends, family, and readers. I do not like drama, and I am honestly tired of dwelling on things. Regret, shame, anger, sadness... these things are too heavy a burden for a heart to bear.
Which brings me back to the purpose of this blog. If you happen to find something that you feel is negative about you in here (you likely won't unless you happen to be my unfortunate husband [I love you, dear]), please know that it is because whatever you have done to hurt, offend, (etc.) me, I no longer wish to carry the burden associated with those actions, and need to release them somehow. As I wish to have a clean friendship with you, I may blog about them instead of bringing them up to you personally unless they are serious offenses. I will NEVER hide behind a computer monitor about something that I genuinely feel deserves our attentions.
So now that we are done with the Who and How, it is time to address the Why.
Why do I need a self-help journal? Well, as my newly written blog description states: "I am a modern woman who may (or may not have) lost herself along the way. The way of what? I'm not certain. Maybe we'll find out together.
So. The night is Tuesday. It is 10:23 PM and if it were a school night, it would be past my bed time. As it were, I have spent the last few hours putting things away, re-arranging the hallway, cleaning the kitchen, throwing away trash, and washing the dishes. Let us not forget creating a blog.
What should I be doing on this marvelous Tuesday evening? I should be reading. I am currently enrolled in a literature course at my local community college. On Thursday, not only our take-home midterm questions handed out, but we also must have finished a novel, Moses, Man of the Mountain by Zora Neale Hurston as well as three new short stories. I can tell you that I have not read any of the short stories that were assigned to me this morning and are due the day after tomorrow. I also have about 90 more pages to read that also need to be read by the aforementioned date.
So why am I sitting here blogging? Partly it's procrastination. I get that wonderful habit from my lovely mother. Mostly, however, it's because during all these chores listed above, I couldn't stop thinking and feeling. Thinking about my life. Where it's been, where it is, where it's going. Normal thoughts. It's the feeling that drove me to write.
The feeling of loss; grief.
The inability to deal with it.
The uncertainty associated with it.
There is so much that you don't know, I can't start from the beginning. Neither of us would have enough time. So I'll just skim the top and maybe later we can delve into the past or see how I am dealing with it in the future (which will then be the present!).
School.
This is where this feeling of grieving comes from. When I was 16, I dropped out of high school to pursue my college career. I thought it was amazing that I could have my master's degree at the age of 20, and wanted to get started on life. On my path to help others. I did not know then what I wanted to do, simply that I wanted to help others. I figured I would probably wind up in healthcare, so I started with French and First Aid/CPR.
I made one very grave mistake: I forgot that I was a teenage girl.
Each term, I registered for one class after another. And each term I would get halfway or 3/4 of the way through and "have" to drop the class. Why? My boyfriend thought I didn't need to go to school. Or that my next boyfriend and I had broken up. Or that the next guy I was pining for didn't want me. Or that this guy, that guy, this GIRL liked me but I didn't like them.. etc., etc., etc.,
Do you see the trend? I was caught up in the drama of relationships that is SO important to teenage girls. I was so caught up in my teenage life that I screwed my adult life over. I lost financial aid, but I found a way to go. September 2009, I started going again with a friend, paying my way only because I was living for free in my uncle's guest house, working for him from home. At this time I only had one child, a 3 1/2 year old.
My friend and I decided to take Spanish together. We made an awesome team and stuff. Then, in October 2009 my world changed completely.
I attended a Halloween party at a friend's house and became attracted to her roommate and ex-fiance, Ben. We hit it off, and by the end of the night had a very awkward drunken encounter. A couple days later, we'd made plans to play a dancing arcade game. A week later, we were hooked. He spent every day with me, watching movies, dancing at the arcade, going to dinners, driving, talking, laughing. Then it was officially Halloween and he showed up at my door to take me to another party. When I opened the door, he was there. He got down on one knee and brought out a dozen red roses and asked me to be his girlfriend. Of course I said yes. for all intents and purposes we were already dating anyway.
Our relationship had an awkward start. We broke up a couple weeks later, but remained friends. In that period of friendship, we got to know each other in ways we didn't as a couple. Through that friendship, we decided to give it another go, and it was great. Then we broke up. Then we got back together. Yeah. We're special.
So, though we were back together, I did not know for how long or how serious. You see, Ben is bipolar and was not on medication at the time. He was not violent or angry, but couldn't seem to make up his mind. Because of this, I made plans. I was going to spend the summer living in Mexico, learning the language in the best way possible. I was going to travel, to see the world. Do one thing I had always wanted to do. So, there I was filling out the forms for my passport and I was just a few days shy of turning them in when Ben asked me to marry him. I said yes.
This is where the best story of my life begins. It is also where the trouble and grief begins.
I'm sorry to stop here but I am finally feeling exhausted. I must sleep now to have a clear head tomorrow so I can study for my midterms and quizzes that will be presented to me on Thursday! I will likely post tomorrow, but if not, please do not panic. :)
