The Numbers Don't Lie

300 * 17= 5100.

It's a little epiphany that I had last night and I'm putting it here to remember.

I am okay. I am not drowning. I may not have good form, but I have a sense of the shore.

This is my song today...

Drowning...

In debt. In despair.
I don't want to talk to my family or friends.
I don't want them to visit for Christmas.
It's just too much to try to keep up the front that my life isn't full of hurt and fear.

When I dreamed of another child, I thought things would be different.
More settled financially. No- we are drowning with two house payments and one tiny income and student loans.
A more loving partner- no, our relationship is worse than ever. I'm in a place that feels more than alone.
I keep trying to claw my way out of despair. My faith. My will. My survival instinct. They should all be stronger. I should be able to beat this. The fact that I am just hanging on, with the waves crashing over me, just makes it worse.
I'm fighting so hard to be a good mother. To keep it in. But the cracks are there, and out trickles the misery, the fear, the anxiety.

I haven't been myself in a long time. The relationship broke so badly in 2008, and I don't think it's ever really healed, despite so many attempts. My career broke in 2010, and when that dam broke the fear went wild and I had my first real taste of depression for a long time.

And I keep spitting it out. Trying not to consume it. Talk myself out of it. Be better. Be stronger.

I want to be okay. I'm trying so hard to be. Some days I almost succeed.
I miss the person that I was, the hope that she carried even in the rough times.

And maybe I shouldn't hit the publish button. Keep it in. Paste on a smile.

This too shall pass. And I do believe there is a plan.
I just needed a keyboard to cry on, a confessional of weakness.

And I'll be stronger tomorrow.

Honorary

There is no honorary degree that goes to supporting someone for more than a decade.

For being responsible and paying all of the bills, even when the world falls out from underneath her.

No one hoods the person who leaves great jobs, and friends, and family and starts over in the midst of ashes. Three times.

My stress, my sacrifice does not give me a diploma on the wall.

My friends and family have helped along the way. His have not.

But he will have the title.

It appears to leave me only lonely. And a little bitter. And sad.

And we will cheer and take pictures and honor him tomorrow.

And I will wish that I could go back to 1995 and tell the younger me that I am worth it. The time. The sacrifice. The money. The hard work. That I am smart enough. And worthy. And that I shouldn't give up my dreams because I think I love a boy.

Because I will still work and pay and sacrifice for those dreams. But they won't be mine. And that playing the role of a mother to this boy for 17 years will leave me empty and not quite able to ever respect the man that I helped to make, and I will never be able to see our partnership as equal. Because it's not.

And no matter how much I can look at the positives, I still feel so much regret for selling my younger sell short. For not believing in her, and her potential. And wishing I had people around back then who had fought for me, who would have stopped me from surrendering my future.

There isn't a Hallmark card to capture all this, and I will not have a fancy gown to wear over my swollen, pregnant belly.

But I will be thinking of 1995.

Sometimes other people capture your soul in music

Hallelujah, L. Cohen Lyrics

I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Baby I have been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you.
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

There was a time when you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?
And remember when I moved in you
The holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Maybe there’s a God above
But all I’ve ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
It’s not a cry you can hear at night
It’s not somebody who has seen the light
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

You say I took the name in vain
I don't even know the name
But if I did, well, really, what's it to you?
There's a blaze of light in every word
It doesn't matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though it all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Here's the Plan

I want to be the creator of improbable beauty.
A steward of glorious ideas.
A nurturer of souls.
A messenger of gratitude.
I want to harvest joy,
and plant possibilities.
Respect the rainclouds and dance in the rainbows.
And all the while, follow the beat of a sparkly drum
that I bang with giddy abandon.

When I Grow Up

I refuse to give up hope that I can find a way to combine all of my biggest passions into some epic business of wonder.

Perhaps you can help.

Here are some of my most abiding passions, in no particular order & with no guarantee of actual skill in said interest.
• Helping people live with dignity, enthusiasm, and wonder (mostly children & seniors) • Writing (mostly emo ramblings & things that humor me)
• Making people laugh
• Traveling- especially in Europe
• Chocolate
• Manatees
• Yoga/Nia/ Other joyful, happy, healthy things for the other short Amazons out there • Event planning
• Research & Creating & Teaching & Design & Being Random
• Pondering grand schemes and ideas
• Tiny homes/gypsy vardos/ vintage canned hams (the vehicles, not the meat product)

I have to admit- sometimes I envy people who can pick just one thing and do it their whole life and not feel the endless pull to morph & buck against the reigns. But that’s just not me. To be continued...

When You Get Something You Want, It Can Be Terrifying

Sometimes you think that you aren't ready for it, no matter how long you waited. That you won't be perfect at it. That something will go wrong, and it will be taken away. That you will find a way to screw it up. And man, are there so many ways to do that. Perhaps you forgot how hard it was to have what you hoped for, and find yourself coming up short. The moment of calm, of Zen and gratitude will come back. But it's okay to have some moments of doubt, of fear. Right? I just didn't expect it this time. And though I am usually a hoarder of knowledge, a lover of all facts... In this case, less is more. The books, the websites- they all make me tremble. It's just a feeling. It will pass. The calm will come back. I hope.