My Very First Tattoo

Welp, I got that tattoo! My very first one!  And it's perfect. I love it. And now, I want more! Here's my beauty:

Honestly, it did not hurt nearly as bad as I thought it would.  I don't know what I was expecting.... Like, I figured I'd walk in, and they'd laugh at me for being this itty bitty little thing.  Or that it was going to hurt so bad, I'd cry.  It tickled in spots, I didn't feel it at all in others, but man, I did feel it when he was working on my shoulder blade!!  But all in all, it was a fun experience and I'd love to get another one.

Some people have asked me why, and this tattoo has such a long, complicated meaning for me that it is too long to describe everything in a short, simple, and sweet way.  So I am going to tell you what everything means in my tattoo.

For starters, it's obviously a dreamcatcher.  I chose to have a dreamcatcher because, growing up, I always had a dreamcatcher.  My mother is very big into superstitions, and she still held some of the beliefs that her Native American grandmother held.  So of course, I growing up, had a dreamcatcher always beside my bed.

I chose the wolves in the dreamcatcher because I use to have this intense, scary reoccurring dream of a wolf with bright green eyes.  This dream scared the living daylights out of me.  The wolf was always calm towards me and never hurt me, but this wolf always hurt a family member or a friend of mine.  When I say hurt, I mean kill.  It haunted me.  I wanted the dream to go away.  But, someone once told me that wolves are a powerful spiritual guide.  He told me I needed to listen to the wolf and pay attention.  After that, no joke, I noticed this wolf was hurting people that ended up hurting me in real life.  It was like a premonition.  Either they hurt me physically, emotionally, or verbally.  When I realized this, I found the wolf to be much less haunting and scary.  I saw this wolf as a protector.  The wolf was protecting me against those that would hurt me.  Once I got older and started decorating my room with wolves, I stopped having the dreams.  I still have wolf decor in my home.  I do believe that the wolf is my guide - my guardian.

The reason why I chose to only have the green eyes in color is because I will never forget the grey/silver wolf in my dream and its bright green eyes staring directly at me.  It was mesmerizing.  I actually kind of miss it.  This is where it might get a little weird.  Ironically, green eyes are a recessive trait in my family.  Only 3 people in my family that I know have green eyes.  They are my sister, my great-aunt Juanita, and my grandmother Oleda.  Oleda passed away when I was 2 years old.  I never had the pleasure of meeting her.  I strongly do believe that Oleda is watching over me.  She was feisty and fierce.  She always protected children, no matter what.  I will never forget the stories that I heard about her.  Growing up, I knew my grandmother and her strong love for me and my sister, and how she protected children.  My great-aunts and my mother and my aunt told me stories about her and reminded me all the time of how much she loved me and she'd always watch out for me.  And because of that, I believe she is my guardian angel... my spiritual guide... my wolf with green eyes watching out for me.  She's always got my back (hence the placement on my shoulder blade).

Wolves are also a very beautiful creature.  Wolves have 1 mate their whole life.  They take care of their "family" or their pack.  They always stick together and they even mourn when a member of their pack is lost.  They are also very caring and loving parents.  As you notice, this wolf is not alone.  This wolf has a baby with her.

Typically, feathers on a dreamcatcher symbolize breath and air - which are of course essential to life.  I chose the owl feathers because, as some traditional dreamcatchers are designed, owl feathers are a feminine feather (eagle feather for masculinity).  Owl feathers also represent wisdom.  I chose to have 3 feathers.  One feather for each baby that I have lost.  Each feather symbolizes those little lives that I carried for such a short while.

This tattoo is symbolic of my grandmother watching over and protecting my little angels who are no longer with me.

Some say "why so depressing?" But I don't think it is.  I am never going to forget my angels.  I'm happy to know that my grandmother is taking care of them in Heaven.  It's a happy reminder that my babies aren't alone.  And it's commemorative of my grandmother and my babies who played such a huge part in helping me become the person that I am today.  I'm in love with it.  It makes me smile.

Wedding Memories

So I realized, I'm not a very good blogger.  I suck at it.  I'm sorry.  I'm just going to catch ya'll up on what's been happening in my life so far.  Majority of the time I was away was helping plan my brother-in-law's wedding.  He and his bride had a wonderful, gorgeous wedding downtown.  I was a bridesmaid and the wedding coordinator.  It was a lot of work, but it turned out lovely.  My husband was, of course, the best man.  He was such a huge help!!

Here's pictures of the bachelorette party:

Beginning of the night :)

We got this fun couple out on the dance floor with us!

The girls!

Now here's pictures of the rehearsal & rehearsal dinner.  The guys were entertaining themselves.  

The groom & groomsmen at the rehearsal.  I love how Nick is saluting in the background.

My hubby and I being all cute and shit.

The wedding party... it was massive. :)

I didn't get many pictures of the wedding ceremony - since after all I was coordinating it and in it.  But I was able to get a few fun shots of the day's events.

Getting ready to send the guys out!

A pigeon came and crashed the party immediately following that picture.  They had been waiting in that stairway for a good 20 minutes and the pigeon didn't make a sound and didn't move that whole time.  Until we took a picture, then it came flapping around like crazy.  My husband was able to get a hold of it and take it safely outside.  Silly pigeon.

The beautiful bridesmaids posing for photos.

The wedding party (missing Amber & Jessica)

My husband and I <3

It was a fun time.  We all had a blast.  So I am going to leave this awesome video that took place at the end of the night.  Everyone had pretty much left... it was last call... and those who stayed huddled together for one last song...  It was awesome.  Maybe you can hear us all singing... with all the slurring and stuff... :P

Nothing Left to Lose

This is going to be a positive post!  Depending on whether or not an opportunity arises, I am planning on going back to school for a career change.  It is scary, but I'm very excited about the journey.  I know it will not be easy, but I think it will do me well to pursue it.  It is set for me to go to pre-nursing in January 2015.  Until then, I am going to continue on my search and see what happens.

Also, I won a $100 gift certificate for a tattoo at a local studio.  This is the first time I have ever won anything.  So on Saturday, this girl will have a new tattoo.  The tattoo has a lot of symbolic meaning behind it, so I will be giving it its own post this weekend.

I also went to the grocery store and won a 3 year supply of cleaning product and a new mop.  Might not sound like a fun prize to win, but that's free stuff!!  I'm a sucker for freebies.  Plus, this cleaning product has actually proven to work!  We've been using it quite a bit.  That's money saved in cleaning supplies, like toilet cleaner, window cleaner, stain removers, carpet cleaners, and tile cleaners.

Travis and I have also decided to give ourselves a honeymoon/babymoon.  We are going to Disney on September 22nd.  Currently, the only thing we need now are plane tickets.  Everything else has been set and is ready to go!

This year may have started out difficult.  It started out like a nightmare.  But I have faith.  I have found a church that I feel is a good fit for me, and I think that has played a lot into my new view of life.  It's amazing, but I feel that God is changing me.  He is doing work through me to help me become the person I am supposed to be.  It's a confusing and daunting journey to embark on, but I think it's worth it.  After all, I don't think I have much else to lose at this point.  Travis and I have been through a lot together.  We've proven that we can survive.  It's now time to start listening to God and letting Him into my life again.  Only then, do I believe, that things will change for the better.

Keeping Up with the Joneses

April always hits me hard.  It was April 5th, 2011 that I lost my first baby at 11 weeks and 6 days.  So of course, I am incredibly sensitive to a lot of baby topics.  April Fools Day is like salt in the wounds.  I came across this very popular blog post from Scissortail Silk, and I wish I could give her a standing ovation.  Thank you!

Three years ago, on April Fools Day, I saw the ultrasound and heard my baby's heartbeat.  Everything looked fine.  I had been going into the doctor's office for weekly ultrasounds to monitor the baby.  I had finally received the clearance that I would only have to go every other week now that I had reached the second trimester.  Little did we know that 4 days later, I would lose my child.

I have been surrounded with baby announcements lately.  I love my friends and family, I do.  But with the memories of my 1st miscarriage, and with the 3rd miscarriage so fresh in my mind, I feel like I'm going through the grief again.  Coworkers have brought their newborns into work for everyone to dote on - and they are really precious.  I'm happy for them.  They bring in pictures of their babies in cute outfits, and we all "aww" in the office.  But deep down, my heart is falling into my stomach.  I run to the restroom to hide in a stall and let my sobs out so no one will know.  I'm in a wedding this June, and 2 of the bridesmaids are pregnant.  One is due a week before my due date.... with twins.  I have no idea how I will survive the bridal shower, the planning, and the wedding being with them all day with their beautiful baby glow.  And I have two friends that are pregnant as well who I see often.  I can't get on Facebook or Pinterest without seeing a new ultrasound or update - or pins for maternity outfits and nursery decor.  Meanwhile, I have a drawer full of baby shower decor, baby books where only 1 or 2 pages are filled out, scrapbook pages of my ultrasounds and baby bump pictures, and maternity clothes that I can't wear.

I know this sounds bitter, but it aches.  I'm happy for them, and sad for me.  I know Travis and I have decided to not try anymore for a while, and we have a wonderful honeymoon planned for Disney this September.  But I'm looking around, and I feel anger, sadness, jealousy, sickness, and confusion.  Why is it that everything works out for everyone else but us?  It feels like God is taunting me.  Why is it that everyone else can have a baby without even trying?  Why is it that one bridesmaid is getting TWO when I only want ONE?  Why does she deserve a baby and I don't?

It pains me to hear some of the comments I get.  "It's God's will."  "At least you can wear a bikini this summer."  "I'll let you borrow my kid for a day.  You'll change your mind forever on having kids!  He/She's being a brat all day!"  "At least you know you can get pregnant."  "At least you can drink whatever you want!"  These comments only dig at the wounds in my heart.  When someone passively blows off their children in front of me - knowing what I've been through - it's like salt in the wounds.

Maybe I get too far ahead of myself.  I have to keep reminding myself that I don't need to turn this into a competition or a contest.  I have to keep telling myself that this time has worked for them, just not for me yet.  My day will come.  I don't have to keep up with everyone else.  I can't lie and say that it isn't killing me, because it is.  I'm crying nightly, wishing I had my babies.  But that wasn't in the hand I was dealt, and I don't need to make this about me vs. everyone else.

I wish it were easy to move on....

Chromosomal Abnormalities

I followed up with my doctor in regards to our fetal tissue testing.  Turns out, there are chromosomal abnormalities.  My doctor gave me a lot of medical terminology that I just could not understand.  But the basic information is this:  my miscarriages are a result of chromosomal abnormalities.

The next step was for me to get some bloodwork done.  During a first trimester miscarriage, it is very well because the chromosomes of the fetus do not equal the required 46XX or 46XY chromosomes.  When there are frequent, first trimester miscarriages and the chromosomal abnormality is present, it could be because one of the parents' chromosomes is not offering the correct number or arrangement for a fetus to grow.  Small excerpt taken from MarchofDimes.com:

Chromosomal abnormalities usually result from an error that occurred when an egg or sperm cell was developing. It is not known why these errors occur. As far as we know, nothing that a parent does or doesn't do before or during pregnancy can cause a chromosomal abnormality in his or her child.

Sperm and egg cells are different from other cells in the body. These cells have only 23 unpaired chromosomes. When an egg and sperm cell join together they form a fertilized egg with 46 chromosomes.

But sometimes something goes wrong before fertilization. An egg or sperm cell may divide incorrectly, resulting in an egg or sperm cell with too many or too few chromosomes.

When this cell with the wrong number of chromosomes joins with a normal egg or sperm cell, the resulting embryo has a chromosomal abnormality. A common type of chromosomal abnormality is called a trisomy. This means that an individual has three copies, instead of two, of a specific chromosome.

Birth Defects: Chromosomal Abnormalities

 I still have not heard back from those results yet, but they may take up to 2 weeks.  If I am not the carrier here, then Travis will have to be tested.  However, it is highly likely that I'm the carrier.  Travis thinks he is "at fault," but I've been born with multiple birth defects.  It's more than likely me.

Travis and I are just taking it day by day.  We've definitely stopped trying to conceive until we know what's going on.  Until then, I'll keep posted on this journey.

What to Expect...

I'm super antsy today.  Tomorrow is the day we find out the results from my test.  I'm a nervous wreck.  Really, though, I shouldn't be.  I don't think I will get terrible news.  I'm just *afraid* that I'm going to get bad news.  I can conceive.  We know that.  I just don't know if I can carry a pregnancy.  That's the scary part that we're going to have to find out.

I wanted to write an informational blog regarding Mullerian Anomalies.  But let's be honest, I'm not a nurse, I'm not a doctor, and I definitely did not pass a science class with A's or B's.  So, maybe I can explain what we are facing in my terminology.  Please bear with me.

I have a bicornuate uterus, which is also known as a heart-shaped uterus.  This means that the shape of my uterus can contribute to complications during pregnancy and labor/delivery.  It can also contribute to cervix problems.  It seems that my cervix issues are opposite of what most women experience, where their cervix is weak.  Mine is pretty tough, so hopefully, I have that on my side.  This is just a comparison between a normal uterus and a bicornuate uterus.

About.com: Miscarriage Myths

PRWeb

I was always told to be prepared to go into labor at 6 months pregnant due to the shape of my uterus.  My doctor is running a few tests to see what is causing my miscarriages, because I've been hemorrhaging.  There are many women in my family that are infertile or have had multiple miscarriages.  My doctor strongly believes that there could be a genetic factor playing into my ability to conceive.

For years, I was treated for endometriosis.  After my D&C and speaking to my doctor, it is apparent that I never had endometriosis.

Another worrisome factor in pregnancy is that I have intestinal malrotation.  This is a birth defect where my intestines did not make the correct turns that they were supposed to, and therefore, formed backwards.  My intestines could potentially get in the way of a growing fetus; however that is very rare.  The biggest issue is if volvulus occurs during pregnancy.  In order to treat volvulus, a lot of times it involves a surgical procedure called a Ladd's Procedure.  This is not a good procedure to have during pregnancy, and *could* potentially abort the pregnancy.  However, there are women out there that were able to have the Ladd's Procedure during pregnancy and everything turned out ok.  There are women who have had intestinal malrotation and had full-term, non-complicated pregnancies.

What is so scary for me is wrapping my mind around all of it.  I'm not getting any younger - which also worries me.  I don't want to cause more problems than necessary.  I believe that the worst part about all of this is that even if I do find answers.... NOTHING is guaranteed.  I don't know if I'm ready to face that thought just yet.  My miscarriage is still so fresh in my mind.  I'm not ready to face this battle.  I'm not ready to go through the worry, the fear, and the uncertainty of what's to come during pregnancy or trying to conceive.  Not to mention, the financial stress of a miscarriage.  I can't go through the financial pressures to have multiple miscarriages.  This is why Travis and I have agreed that we are *not* ready to go back to trying for a baby again.  We are going to give ourselves until after the baby's due date (August 13) - because I know that day is going to be one of the most painful days waiting for me.

Just get through step one of this process.  Find answers.  All I have to do is listen to the answers tomorrow, and then we'll figure out step two.

Be More Like My 6 Year Old Self

Please forgive me as I bounce through all these crazy thoughts in my head and hormones.  I'm slowly getting back to normal, and I've just spent the past week reevaluating my entire life.  Mid-Life Crisis came early?  Possibly....

Divi:  Life Purpose & Passionate Living

I have been having many conversations with my mother.  Surprisingly, she's really opened up a lot to me - more than she has before.  And I have to thank texting for that.  She's texting all. the. time!  She loves texting.  And with texting both of her daughters that live far away, she's opened up a lot.  She's a writer.  She never knew it.  She does a much better job of communicating her feelings and her thoughts through writing.  I don't think my mother has ever really had that avenue to use before.  Now that she's discovered texting - so many things make sense.

My mom is lonely.  Just like me.  Which is ridiculous because we live an hour and 45 minutes away from each other.  We really could see each other whenever we wanted.  But an hour and 45 minutes away is still long enough to consider a "trip".  There's planning and working around schedules and all that hoop-la.  However, it makes a lot of sense that we're both lonely.  We always had our families.  My mom was home the most - and whether or not we got along and had that perfect mother/daughter relationship, we relied on each other's presence.  Now that my sister is like... forever far away (ok ok, maybe 7-8 hours), and I'm on my own doing my own thing... and my mother made a daring career choice and quit her job.  She's bored, and she's lonely.  And the two topics we can bond on now are loneliness and finding a job/career.

Don't get me wrong.  I love my job.  My coworkers are the best.  My boss is very forgiving and understanding.  And the hours are flexible.  I can work from home if I need to, which is cool (and probably something I should be doing right now instead of playing Candy Crush, texting, and writing this blog...).  But... I don't think it's "me."  It's just not my gig, ya know?  Something is just missing, and I can't put my finger on it.  I am very blessed to have a job at all.

In my conversations with my mother and with my husband, I've realized I'm doing everything all wrong in life.  I get online and I compare my life with so many other people.  I degrade myself.  I make myself miserable - and in turn make others around me miserable.  I'm just tearing myself down.  I'm being fake.

Philosoraptor Memes

I've realized that I need to make a few adjustments to my life.  I have this Pinterest board called Secrets to Happiness and I've realized, I'm making everything too complicated and stressful.  This is why I get stuck at home, why I'm tired all the time, and why I feel so "unhappy."  I made a Pinterest board about Happiness because I'm searching for happiness - like there's some miracle cure, some piece of the pie that I can grab, and boom - I'm the most chipper mother fucker you'll ever meet.  But let's be honest now.... happiness isn't a tangible thing.  You can't just grab it.  You can't find it.  No one and nothing can give it to you.  Happiness is a state of being.  And without that state of being and mindset, I'm going to be lonely.  I'm going to sell myself short.  I'm not going to get the next job.  I'm going to be stuck right here in my little pity party... alone.

So I say fuck it.  2014 is a new beginning.  I started putting up cheesy quotes on index cards and taped them to the bathroom mirror.  I've put some on our "Bill Board" where all of our bills go.  Here it is.  Time to stop being fake.  Let's be real.  Because this... this girl from 2010... 2012... and especially the one from yesterday.... she's not me.  I've lost myself in all my struggles.  I thought I was growing stronger, but instead, I became a stranger.  No wonder why nothing makes sense in my life.

I've thought about this today.  Now that I've recognized this... how do I fix it?  What did I do when I was the happiest?  Well... I was probably like, 5 or 6.  I was the most happiest kid around.  I made friends at the doctor's office while waiting for my shots.  I made a new best friend with a little girl in the booth beside us when the family went to dinner.  I ran.  I played.  I had an imagination.  And most importantly, I never thought I had anything to worry about.  This was it, take it or leave it and have fun.  That was my gig.

I've proposed a little list for myself for how to repair the broken Liz.  What would 6 year old Elizabeth say to 27 year old Elizabeth?

1.  Who cares?

SodaHead.com

Didn't get that project done?  Who cares?
Didn't get to the dishes?  Who cares?
Put a run in your hose?  Who cares?
Dropped the dirty kitty litter on the carpet when cleaning it?  So what?
Missed an appointment?  Who cares?
Seriously, though.  Who cares?  Shit happens.  Move on.  Clean it up.  Reschedule.  Take the hose off.  Do it tomorrow.  Who really cares?  When the day is done, you'd done what you can.  So what if you didn't do it all.  You're human.  Life happens.  Don't turn an ant hill into a mountain.  It doesn't really matter.

2.  Listen to your parents.

KeepCalmAndPosters.com

Yep.  Mom and dad were always right.  Sure they didn't have all the answers.  But running off to college without a clue, disregarding what your dad said about starting off at a community college, picking a legit skill or trade that will be lucrative, follow where the stability is.... yeah, he knew what he was talking about.

Instead, you didn't take his advice, yelled at him for not believing in you (when he saw what you were capable of was trying to GUIDE you to a better path), messed up, didn't ask for help, and thought you could do it all on your own without him.  You basically just took his sincere advice and threw it in dog crap, stomped on it, and said, "this is what I think of your opinion."  Forget that he, you know, did just about everything to make sure you were taken care of and fought for you your whole entire life and looked out for your best interest....

Don't do it again.  You parents are always there for you through thick and thin.  They have the BEST advice.  Listen to it, even if you don't think they are right.  Just do it anyway.  Who knows what doors that will open up for you.  It couldn't be worse than what you're feeling when you do it alone.

3. Do SOMETHING.

Anonymous Art of Revolution

Just do something.  Very simple.  Whether it's writing a blog, cleaning the house, go on a walk, read a book, play with the cats, call your parents... whatever it is: do something.  Sitting around all day is BORING.  Get off of Facebook.  Get off of the games.  Do something.  You have plenty of time to do absolutely nothing when you sleep, when you're sick, and when you're dead.

4.  PLAY

Google Images

Very similar to #3 - but play.  Give yourself a recess every day.  Had a long day at work?  Go do something fun.  Play in the snow for once.  Play tag with your husband.  Go visit your nephew and play with his cars.  Live a little.  Nothing here mentioned costs a dime - it's great exercise, and you'll feel like a kid again.  Stay young for as long as you can!  Go play!

5.  Forget the Rest of Them.

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"Do what you feel in your heart to be right -- for you'll be criticized anyway."  Eleanor Roosevelt.
People are going to talk about you.  People are going to hate you.  People are going to think you aren't good enough.  Forget them!

Really, no one cares about their opinion of you.  So stop worrying about it.  Forget them!  Overhear someone saying something bad about you?  Fuck 'em.  They aren't a priority in your life.

Applying for job?  Don't stress it.  Show what you've got and who you are - and if they don't think you're good enough - forget them!  Don't let it eat up your self esteem and self worth.

Travis thinks you are valuable.  Your parents think you are valuable.  Your sister thinks you are valuable.  Forget the rest of them.  I'm pretty sure when you stop caring what everyone else thinks, you'll find peace with yourself and those around you.

6.  Stop with the Negative Talk

someecards.com

Stop talking badly about yourself.
Stop talking badly about other people.
What you reap is what you sow, and no one trusts a gossiper.
Find a lot of backstabbers in your life?  Because you put them there.
Stop it.  You let them and their negativity have power over you.  Just be happy.  It isn't that hard.  Be positive.  Be optimistic.  Never say another negative thing or engage is stupid gossip.  This includes talking to yourself in the mirror!!!
"I'm ok."   That's all you need to verify.
"She's ok." That's all you need to care about.
"He's ok."  That's it - no more thinking into it.
Ok is better than negativity.

7.  Find a Friend Everywhere

We Know Memes

You ARE shy.  That's totally ok.  But you're an extrovert too.  So don't clam up.  Make a friend.  Engage in conversations with strangers.  Be nice just because you can be.  No one gives a shit what you're talking about - just that you are acknowledging their presence.  That says a lot.  Find a friend everywhere you go.  Smile.  If you have to force it, think of something funny.  Be open.  You don't have to talk the whole time.  Just simple gesture is how it begins.  Just a smile.  Just a happy "good morning".

Some random person wants to make a joke - accept it!  Laugh heartedly.  Don't automatically assume they are a freak.  They are offering you kindness and a smile to your day.  You don't have to strike up a long in depth conversation.  Just find a friend and be light hearted.

No one is asking for your direct attention.  No one is asking for a thesis about world peace.  Don't take it so hard.  Just be shy and be sweet.  Find a friend everywhere you go - including the gas station, grocery store, a random trip to the restroom.  It doesn't have to be in depth - just kind.  Don't avoid people - or they'll avoid you too.

8.  Don't Beat Around the Bush

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What the fuck do you want?  Remember when you were little?  "Mom, can I have a popsicle?" "Dad, can I have a hug?" Freaking ask!!  Don't think everyone has ESP!  Speak up.  Someone made you mad?  "That made me upset."

Someone said something rude?  "That wasn't very nice."  Put it out there!

Say something!  Are you overworked?  "Can you help me?"  OMG, it really isn't that hard - and people will be very appreciative that you even had the balls to just flat out say it.

One of the most impressive things that happened this week was blatantly saying, "I don't think how you treated him was fair given the circumstances he is under."  SPEECHLESS.  It really hit them deep and you could see it!  Just SAY IT OUT LOUD.  Don't assume that people are going to figure out how you are feeling or are supposed to know your emotions are wacked out!  People don't know!  They have their world that they know.  You don't know what is going on in their mind or their life.

9.  Apologize & Forgive

ImgQuotes

It's a heavy burden to carry... Resentment.  Regret.  Guilt.  Hurt.  Anger.  Don't try to carry it.  Say sorry when you know you should.  Forgive, even when you don't think they deserve it.  Do it for your sanity and your peace.  Remember being 6?  When someone said sorry, how did you respond? "It's ok."

That's right!  It's ok.  Move on.  Then after they said sorry and you said it was ok, what did you do?  Continued doing whatever you were already doing!  If you were playing, you moved on and kept playing.  Let it go!

10.  Money Doesn't Control You

Meetville

You'll never have enough.  So stop freaking out about it.
The bills will get paid.  You and Travis have a way of making everything work.  So stop trying so hard to keep tabs on every single cent.  You live once.  Life happens.  It's been proven time and time again that it always works out.  So stop fretting about the dollar signs.

It's ok to budget.  It's ok to keep an eye out and just verify the bank account is ok.  Just don't let it consume you.  Money IS NOT everything.  Sure, it'd be nice to have the finer things, but honestly, you were happy with a stick when you were 6.  You had an old tire tied to a tree that kept you entertained for hours.

And when you are really in a pickle, you've proven that you can do without the extra fluff to get by.  You can make it.  Don't let money own you.  It doesn't control you - you control it.

11.  Take Care of Yourself

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If you are tired, rest.
If you feel a surge of energy, get up and run.
Listen to what your body is saying. It knows what it needs better than you do.
Discipline yourself and be proud that you CAN brush your teeth and comb your hair.
Wash your face every night, because it makes you feel better.
Eat right, because you feel better.
Drink water, because you feel better.
Exercise because it makes you feel good.
Sleep at night, because you feel better.
Pray every day, because it makes your feel better.

Seriously, do things that make you feel better!  By not taking care of yourself, you're telling everyone else not to take care of you.  You are telling the world you don't need to be taken care of - and you do.  You are inviting the world to make you exhausted, to make you sad, to make you feel gross, to make you feel less than yourself.  Don't.  Taking care of yourself isn't a chore.  It's a recreation.  It makes you feel good - so why not do it?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It may seem a little juvenile, but that's the point.  I get so caught up in being an adult and carrying so much weight (worry, stress, heartache, guilt, pity, etc).  It gets exhausting.  When I was little, the weight I carried was so light, I had energy!  I had life.  That is what I need to go back to.

That is what I need most: to be a little bit more like my 6 year old self....

1993

The Truth Be Told

It has been a week now since my miscarriage.  I think I have some thoughts that I just need to get off of my chest.  I've done a pretty good job keeping it together, and trying to move on.  But in that time, I think I have neglected my feelings and put more stress and grief on myself.  It's so hard to go through a miscarriage and have all of these emotions.  Of course, there's the physical pain, but I think the emotions just make it ten times more excruciating.  It must be my way of guarding my heart from feeling broken, so I've suppressed what's been going on in my own mind.

Thanks to Pinterest, I came across this amazing blog series:  Miscellaneous from Missy: I Have to Be Honest.    It is a 6 part series with 2 additional posts from a guest.  It is quite a read, but definitely so worth it.  It really revolves around miscarriage and faith.  I won't lie, I've had my own personal battles with God during this past year.  I've loved Him and thanked Him for blessing me so.  I've relied on prayer.  But I haven't really attached myself to Him and I've pulled away from Him.  This is something I need to work on this year.  This blog series really opened up my eyes and made me reevaluate my relationship with God.  For all that He has given to me and done for me, I owe Him more respect and love than what I give.

In 2013, my emotions were just all over the place.  Travis and I had secretly tried to have a baby since February.  Every month, I counted the days.  I waited patiently.  I was eager to find to happy pink lines on a pregnancy test.  When each month passed, I was visited by the annoying Aunt Flow or I found another negative test.  I wanted to cry.  I felt like something was wrong with me.  What was I doing wrong?

Then August came around.  I was late, so impatiently, I took a test right away that came back negative.  I waited, with heart ache, for Aunt Flow to make her visit.  But she never showed.  I took another test.  Negative.  So I assumed it was just stress and tried moving on.  But still, she never showed.  I took about 4 tests, and three of them came back negative.  The last one:  positive.  I was so shocked.  I figured it couldn't be right.  Someone told me pregnancy tests don't show a false positive, so I spent the night in disbelief.  The next day, Aunt Flow arrived.

I didn't have any time to bond with that experience.  I hadn't told anyone except Travis.  We chose not to say anything because, well... we didn't bond with that pregnancy at all.  It was like a fluke.  So instead of reaping sorrow or pity from anyone else, we kept it a secret.  No sense in saying, "Hey, we got a positive but it's a no go now!"  About a week later, we went on a family vacation.  It was definitely a great opportunity for Travis and I to just recoup and be with each other.

So we kept trying.  I thought there was something seriously wrong with me.  I knew that after a year of trying to no avail, I could be declared infertile.  That idea scared me.  I wondered if Travis would love me the same (which is ridiculous, but I know how much he wants to have kids and he would never leave me).  I wondered what that would mean for my future - my goals, my plans.  I couldn't help but fear that every month, I was getting closer to that dreaded one year mark.  I started losing hope.

This past November - December, I was getting sick.  Is this morning sickness?? I was sick for a few weeks, and I definitely couldn't enjoy family dinners around the holidays.  Everything made me nauseous.  On December 9th,  I took a test.  I was by myself, and didn't tell Travis because I didn't want to get his hopes up in case it was another negative.  But to my surprise, the two pink lines showed up instantly!  Without a doubt, I was pregnant.  I was so excited, I completely spaced it when coming up with a cute way to tell Travis.  I just grabbed him and showed him.  We were so excited and happy.  I couldn't believe it.  But again, I guarded my heart.  I didn't want to tell anyone right away.  I was afraid it wouldn't last.

I went into my doctor's office for a check up and to verify everything.  I was definitely pregnant and my due date was set for August 13th.  So, ready as I was, Travis and I decided to tell our parents at Christmas.  I came up with cute Christmas presents, including a small baby toy, a bib, and a picture frame.  I even included a cute little poem.  First, we told my parents since their Christmas was first.  My mom and dad were very excited for us and congratulated us.  My sister was super happy for me, because she knew how badly I wanted this.

On Christmas Eve, we told Travis's dad.  His aunts were there too, so they witnessed his gift.  He was happy and said, "I was wondering when I was going to have grandkids!"  He was excited to have his first grandbaby.  All of Travis's aunts were congratulatory and said, "We're lucky!  We got to see the best gift this Christmas!"  

Christmas Day, Travis and I had spent the night with his mother, step dad, and all of his siblings.  We waited for his mom and step dad to open their gift last.  When we gave them their gifts, they were quiet for a second... then his mom gasped and started crying.  She asked, "Are you serious?!?!"  She was absolutely thrilled.  Mike, Travis's step dad, couldn't stop smiling.  He cracked a few jokes about how the bib was for him, and congratulated us and told us he couldn't wait to spoil the grandbaby.  

Everyone was happy.  Everyone knew how much we wanted this.  And I knew how our families have waited for this.  I was proud.  But I still kept my heart guarded.  Now the family knew.  If something bad came out of this, at least I wouldn't be alone.  But now I had everyone else's heart riding on this baby too.  I didn't want to break their hearts if things didn't go according to plan.  So, instead of bonding with the baby and pregnancy, I tried to keep myself detached so as not to be such a mess if I did miscarry.  I figured if I could be strong through a loss, if in case it did happen, then everyone else wouldn't be as heartbroken as they were the first time.

I found a great doctor that specializes in high risk pregnancies from a few friends.  When I was 9 weeks pregnant, Travis and I went in for my first appointment with him.  All of his first appointments start with an ultrasound prior to the visit.  Travis and I let our guard down.  We were so excited to see the baby and hear a heartbeat.  Eagerly, I jumped up on the table, informed the ultrasound tech of my birth defects (in my first pregnancy, my intestines kept getting in the way of seeing the baby.  I also have a heart shaped uterus.).  The ultrasound tech just smiled and said, "Ok, we'll just take a look and if we can't see anything, we'll do it vaginally."  Ugh.... ok.

Luckily, we found the baby within seconds.  She was measuring the baby and telling us everything on the screen.  Then she said, "it looks a little small."  My guard quickly went up.  I think I might have stopped breathing.  Then she said, "I can't see a heart beat."  She turned on the sound.....

...

...

Nothing.

I felt my heart drop.  I felt a tear fall from my eyes.  The tech went to get the doctor to view the images.  I just wiped my face, and Travis said, "It'll be ok.  Everything is alright."  Sharply, I responded, "Travis, there's no heart beat.  This isn't good."  He stayed quiet the rest of the time.

The doctor came into the room and looked at the screen.  He said the baby had stopped growing 6 days before.  He verified there was no heart beat.  The doctor went on talking about a hemorrhage and pointing to it on the screen.  I think I must have been in disbelief or shock.  I wasn't really sure if I was connecting the dots.  I knew he was a great doctor, so I might have had a little bit of hope left that some miracle could be done.  I asked him, "What does that mean?"  He responded, "it's not viable.  I'm sorry."  

I just gritted my teeth and tried holding back my tears, which didn't work.  I'm pretty sure the doctor said something more, but I wasn't listening.  I kept thinking, What the hell have I done to deserve this?  The tech said to meet the doctor in his office next door whenever we were ready.  She and the doctor left the room.  It was just Travis and I alone in this dark room... with the image of our baby on the screen.  I'll never forget looking at that screen one last time.  It's like time stopped.  Travis had come up to me, held my hand and hugged me.  He said something, but I was so entranced by that screen.  That little baby jellybean on the screen... It was alive. Now it's gone.

I took a deep breath, grabbed a tissue, wiped my face, and jumped down to grab my things.  Poor Travis, I don't think I looked at him or said anything to him.  I was so caught up in the moment, I neglected my husband.  I neglected his feelings too.  I knew he was hurt.  But it just didn't register for me.  We walked into the doctor's office next door.  His office was incredibly busy that day, so for him to take the time to sit down and wait for us... that says a lot about him and how genuine of a doctor he is.  That thought came into my mind as he started talking.  

The doctor discussed what he had seen in the ultrasound and gave me two options.  He said we could let it go naturally or we could do a D&C.  However, he said with my hemorrhaging, he highly recommended a D&C because going through the miscarriage naturally could cause for an emergency situation and put me in the ER.  I agreed to do the D&C.  He didn't want me to hemorrhage and drop the pregnancy before the D&C, so he scheduled our appointment for 5:30 AM the following day.  I was given orders to stay in bed and rest, and not to drink or eat anything after 11 PM.  He continued to talk to us about my previous miscarriages, and when I told him I have hemorrhaged before with my first pregnancy, he asked if he could run some tests to find out what is causing these miscarriages.  He did tell me that with my heart shaped uterus, I've probably had more early miscarriages that I didn't know about - which made me think of all the times I was late with a negative pregnancy test...  However, he did not feel that the shape of my uterus is causing my later miscarriages.  

I was pretty speechless.  I was afraid to talk.  I was afraid the moment I said anything, I'd start bawling.  Travis spoke up for me - which I'm very thankful for.  He told the doctor that many women in my family have multiple miscarriages or infertility.  The doctor said he has many patients that do, so not to worry.  "Let's just find some answers and go from there."

Travis and I had drove separately because he had to leave for work immediately after our appointment.  I sat in my car for a few minutes in silence.  I wanted to pray, but I didn't know what to pray for.  I wanted to cry now, but I held so much in, I just couldn't cry.  I called my work because I had told my boss I would be back in later that evening to finish up some things.  A very nice coworker, who was very excited to see ultrasound pictures, answered the phone.  She didn't pry... she could tell I didn't have good news when I told her I wouldn't be back in for a few days.  I told her we had lost the baby, and I didn't know when I would return to work.  She forwarded the message to my boss, who was very understanding.

That night, I made the dreadful phone calls to our parents.  "We lost the baby."  "I'm ok."  I told them everything the doctor said.  It was very well scripted.  I didn't want to cry.  I didn't want our family to worry.

Sometimes, I think guys show it in the weirdest of ways - but I think guys go through a mental mind fuck when they experience a miscarriage.  Their friends don't really understand.  Travis tried to be supportive as I went through my hormonal ups and downs.  He sat beside me throughout the procedure (when he could) and never left my side.  He saw how much pain I was in, and there was nothing he could do for me.  Travis tried to pick up the weight for two in this house - because I was so sick and in so much pain for a week after the D&C.  I did not recoup from the D&C well at all.  The pain was so intense, it would knock me to the ground.  I was on so much medication that when the pain meds wore off, I knew exactly when it did.  I tried to keep up with eating but the nausea and the constant pain made me not want to eat.  When I refused to eat before taking my next dosage, I regretted not eating.  Poor Travis, he had to watch it.  He didn't have time to grieve or heal his own heart.  He had to take care of me and everything else.  And all the while, many of his friends were not sympathetic.  They just didn't get it.

I look at him now and wonder how he kept himself together.  He got angry a few times - not at me - but at his friends who refused to see the big picture.  They were busy telling him he was whipped or a "puss" for not standing up to me.  They were busy telling him that he answers to my every beck and call... mind you... he just lost his baby, and he's watching his wife suffer with emotional breakdowns and physical pain.  What was he supposed to do?  And all the while, I was so focused on me and my pain, I wasn't there for him when he needed me.  My husband, who would do anything for me, didn't have anyone there for him and he didn't have a chance to grieve his loss.  I feel so guilty for this.  I've heard him say that it could be him... it could be his fault we can't have babies.  I know he's hurting and he's confused.  And now that I'm feeling better, I'm sorry that I wasn't there for him.  And I'm sorry no one took the time to be there for him in my absence.  

I don't know what I'm to take from this miscarriage.  I know I've questioned my faith all year.  But maybe just now isn't the time for Travis and I to have children.  We are not going to try again for a while.  I don't know when we'll be ready to try again.  All I know is that this year, we've promised to dedicate it to ourselves - to our marriage and our friendship.  I've promised to be more outgoing and spontaneous with his adventures.  I've promised to be a little bit more independent.  He's promised to be more of a home body.  He's promised to do more things with just the two of us - no other friends included.  Maybe that's just what we need....

Quitting Again

Today marks the 6th time I have attempted to quit smoking.  Yes, some know, I am a frequent smoker. I have no idea what to expect this time around.  Will it work?  Can I do it?  No idea.

I now have an electronic cigarette and Nicorette gum (4 mg).  Let's see how this goes.

Today was the first evening I gave it a shot.  I chew on a piece of gum that was surprising good!  I bought a flavored kind of gum that tastes a lot like Wintergreen gum.  It burned a little bit, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.  I just stopped chewing when it burned.

Travis still smokes.  He had a cigarette when I was chewing the gum - and lo and behold, I didn't have a single craving for one.  Later in the night, when the gum no longer burned and started to lose flavor, I made a BIG mistake.

I decided what would one cigarette do?  It's like winging myself off, right?  Over time, I should crave smoking less and less.... I think.  I lit up a cigarette and started puffing.

OMG!

Talk about nicotine!  I couldn't even smoke the damn thing!  I felt so incredibly sick.  I tossed out the cigarette and felt like I was going to vomit.  Luckily, a friend we were hanging out with tonight rushed and got me a bottled water.  I have never enjoyed the taste of water as much as I did tonight.

So I won't be doing that again!  I'm thinking this gum is going to work!  And in the car, because I have a habit of smoking - I have my e-cig to help.  That is... if I'm not chewing the gum!  YIKES!

OK, you might be wondering why it has taken me 6 times to quit smoking.  I'll gladly give you some back story about smoking.  When I was a young adolescent, I thought smoking was cool.  My relatives had tobacco farms (and still do), and they sell tobacco to Phillip Morris.  I grew up around smokers - even though neither of my parents smoked.  My grandfather's ex-wife would buy me a carton when I was 12 years old to sneak back home in my luggage.  I thought I was so cool.  My sister, friends, and I would sneak away on our country property to "hike" or "ride bikes".  If someone's parents weren't home, we were "hanging out" or "studying".  My parents were not dumb.  They could smell it.  They would steal our packs and throw them out.  But I could always get more.  It became a habit to steal my friend's mother's packs.  We would sneak around and steal cigarettes from adults that smoked around us.  And I still had my connection to my grandpa's ex-wife that bought me cartons.

We were not smoking every day.  It was just something exciting and made us feel like we were grown up.  Why we wanted to grow up so fast, I don't know.  It didn't become habitual until my friends and I started driving.  It was our chance to smoke a cigarette before or after school - and we would hose the interior of the car with perfume or sprays to cover up the smell.

I quit smoking for the first time when I turned 18 - ironically.  I just lost interest in it.  I also no longer had my free connections and I didn't want to pay for cigarettes.  I had quit cold turkey for 3 years.

When I turned 21, I was living with my boyfriend and going to college.  I was around smokers all the time.  I went out to parties and I did what a lot of dumb college kids do - go to bars.  I didn't have a problem not smoking until I realized everyone around me smoked.  All of my friends were smoking and my boyfriend was smoking, too.  My boyfriend told me it was OK to smoke socially - just as long as it didn't become a habit.  All of my friends were saying, "One cigarette won't kill ya."  So, I caved to fit in, and I started smoking again.

Quitting #2:  I stopped cold turkey after I met my husband.  I was pressed for cash, and I didn't feel satisfied with a cigarette anymore.  I had no problems - until someone lit up a cigarette and I could smell it.  That stage did not last long.  I was back to smoking again.

The third time I quit was when I was 24.  I found out about my birth defect when I experienced volvulus.  I had to have an upper endoscopy done.  During my endoscopy, they found tar in my esophagus.  They took pictures and showed it to me.  After looking at it and seeing that the tar was my own doing - I felt disgusting.  I saw the damage I was doing to myself.  Not long after that, I found out I was pregnant.  I quit cold turkey for the baby.  This time, I had strong cravings for a cigarette.  It felt like I was going to tackle someone that smelled like cigarette smoke.  Whenever I saw a pack of cigarettes, I was so tempted to take one and light up.  When I miscarried, I lost all the care in the whole entire world.  I didn't care about the tar.  I didn't care about cancer.  I didn't care about anything. AT. ALL!  I began smoking much more heavily than I ever had before.  I was up to a pack and a half every day.  Let's just say, my finances were terrible.  I was going broke to have a cigarette.

I quit for the fourth time when I started pulling myself back together.  I was 25 years old.  I tried doing the electronic cigarette.  I was successful for maybe... a month.  The electronic cigarette became my "in-between packs" smoke.

The fifth time was when we moved to Fort Wayne.  I was determined to quit.  I tried gum.  I tried eating more.  I tried being active.  Nothing could satisfy my craving.  Travis tried to quit with me.  We relied on the electronic cigarette when we were really having nicotine fits.  We were successful for maybe... a few months (3 max).  I don't know why or how - but we began smoking again.

So here I am - at my 6th attempt to quit.  I don't like the smell.  I don't like the cravings.  I don't like how it makes your teeth and nails yellow.  I don't like my throat hurting.  I don't like the taste.  I feel guilty every time I smoke.  I hate the stale smell in my car.  I hate the trash it leaves behind.  I hate it.  I've lost so many important people in my life due to cancer from smoking.  And it breaks my dad's heart to see me smoke.  I hate doing that to him.  I also hate the fact that I cannot work a full day without having to run outside for a cigarette.  Sure, I like the break - but I hate having to sit out by the smelly dumpster just to get my fix.  If I want a career, I can't be running outside all the time to take a puff.  It makes me look unreliable when I am not readily available to do my job while I am there.  Plus, I get cranky all the time without a cigarette.  How can something so small have so much power of my character?  How can it control so much of my day?  And I really hate being told I smell like a cigarette.  I hate having headaches when I go too long without nicotine.  I hate how expensive it is.  All around - I am just tired of it.  And if I want to have children some day - smoking is only going to complicate it.  I have enough issues with carrying a baby that I don't need to add anything else to it to make it worse.  I need to get my health back in control.  I need to quit.  I want to quit.  I'm hoping this works.

Reflection

I have done quite a bit of self-reflection since my last post.  I realized I had dreams, I had plans, and I was bound and determined to reach them.  However, I did not.

I thought by now, I would have a great career.  I thought I would have the house with a white picket fence.  I thought I'd at least have one child by now and living happily ever after.  Unfortunately, those cards didn't play out, not yet at least.

I get so over my head with dreams and hopes.  It's like I'm forcing the next stage of life to happen.  I am forcing the happy ending to start now.  I feel like I have been patient long enough.  It's been years that we've been struggling.  People say I live in a generation of self-entitlement and instant gratification - and you know... they are probably right.  But sometimes I can't help but wonder... when is it my time to shine?  When will our happily ever after begin?

I've tried being optimistic and positive.  I've tried being proactive, organized, and detailed in everything.  I can't say that my discipline hasn't paid off because it has.  We are much better off than where we were last year.  We are much better off than where we were in January.

I don't like living with my father-in-law.  Living here has built up a lot of depression, anxiety, frustration, and just meanness.  Travis and I realized that our problems stem from not being self-sufficient enough to start our new beginning.  So I've been very proactive and disciplined towards finding that better job.  I'm searching for my new career.  And Travis has been very proactive towards finding a better paying job that will allow him to go to college.

On top of it all, I forgot to just live my life.  I'm not living my life for me anymore.  I'm living my life for that future house.  I'm living my life to pay off the next bill on time.  I'm living my life to count the pennies.  I'm not LIVING.

So in the big scheme of things, I have to start being happy and grateful for what I have.  I have to stop constantly searching for happiness when I have it right here beside me.  I have my adorable cuddly kitty cats.  I have a roof over my head.  I have enough money to live comfortably.  I have a supportive, loving family.  I have in-laws that I get along with very well.  I have co-workers that I really do enjoy to be around.  I have friends that will always be there.  I have my health.  And most importantly, I have an amazing husband who will always be there for me.  He will always support me and my goals.  He will always help me.  He loves me as much as I love him.  He never asks for anything in return.  He's always a happy-go-lucky kind of guy.  He has a beautiful soul.  And not to mention, he has been and will always be my DREAM guy.  I am very lucky and blessed to have him in my life.  No matter what happens, I will be happy.  I will be happy because he is truly genuine.  Together, we've been through harder times.  We've been through worse.  We will get through this stage together.

Sick Day

I have been super busy lately.  Sure enough, I got sick.  I have been running non-stop, and I haven't been taking very good care of myself.  So, I'm in bed, with the sniffles, ear aches, sore throat, cough, slight fever, and really stiff, sore muscles instead of being at work.  Even though work has called me non-stop all day, and I have to do a few things on my sick day, I also decided since I'm laying around bored, I should blog!

I'm updating my 365 Day Picture Challenge about once a week.  I try to get the week done on Saturday or Sunday.  Sometimes, I'm off a little bit.  I'm really glad that I've stuck to this project.  Then again, we are still early on the 365 Day challenge.  Hopefully, I can keep it up diligently.

I really want to be more disciplined in my posts.  You might have noticed a handy little button on the right side of the blog that says "31 Days to a Better Budget."  I keep messing up my budget.  Not going to lie, I don't think I have a clue to what I'm doing.  But I found this amazing blog - which put creating a budget in realistic terms.  One small task each day and at the end of the month, you've created your own personalize budget.  The best part is that it is doable.  For my next big project, I will master our budget.  Starting on March 1st, I will be doing the "31 Days to a Better Budget."  Please feel free to join me!

In the meantime, I have accomplished a few SIMPLE Pinterest finds.  I will be posting those later today!  I also fixed up our Home Management Binder (which will be posted today too!!).

I hate being sick and not at work - but at least I can occupy my time laying in bed with this blog!! :)

Big Bug Eyes & Who I Am

I have to share this story about my daddy. When I was a little girl, I had a huge crush on a boy that I hung out with at recess. I thought he liked me too. Being a little first grader, my heart had never been broken before. One day, that boy made fun of me because I had "big bug eyes". I cried. The next day, I didn't want to go to school. I was embarrassed about my big eyes and most of all, I was hurt. I purposely missed the bus. My dad ended up taking me to school that morning. I cried and begged not to go. My dad asked me what was wrong and I told him what the boy said. My dad said "I fell in love with your mom's big brown eyes. Your eyes are beautiful. Don't let some silly boy tell you otherwise. When you are older and that boy falls in love with your big beautiful eyes, you tell him I am sorry but your eyes are too small. Then you bat your big brown eyes at him and walk away." I never forgot that conversation. Love you daddy.

I have seen a few other bloggers doing this lately.  I think it is great.  I'm not the best at writing my emotions without offending someone.  So I try really hard to keep it all to myself.  It's not that I think offensive things... it's just that people don't always understand my point of view and I can't explain it correctly.  Well, here's my chance to voice a little bit of what's been on my mind lately.

My dad is very proud of me.  My mother tells me all the time that she doesn't worry about me because she knows I'll figure out a way.  My parents believe in me and support me.  They think I have a good head on my shoulders, and they know I can accomplish so much with my talents and my drive.  I wish I saw myself from their eyes.

I don't always like myself.  I know, not everyone does.  But I've battled with it a lot.  I feel like a cry baby that whines all the time.  I am my worst critic.  I will call myself awful names.  If I fall behind on anything, I will equate it to my self-worth.  I use to see a therapist.  She told me I was a clinical perfectionist.  If something isn't perfect, I will give up, I quit, I tear myself apart, and my atmosphere greatly affects my feelings and behavior.  And you know what - she's right.

I took Prozac to overcome a lot of emotional turmoil.  I'm not on it anymore - but I do wish I continued it.  I was a much more pleasant person.  I liked myself more.  I was more laid back.  Honestly, I like me better on Prozac.  Doesn't that sound bad?  Someone told me it was addictive, but I wonder "is it addictive because I prefer my life to be that way?"

I used to be such a happy child.  I was grossly optimistic about everything.  I loved everyone.  I made friends everywhere I went.  As I got older, that went away.  When I was active in church, I was in high school.  I always went to church with my family as a whole.  I loved it.  I felt closer to God.  Life was pleasant.  Things just seemed to fall into place.  I was happy again.  I tried to bring church back into my life, but every time I went by myself, it just wasn't the same.  So of course, I fell back into my funk.

Every day, I call myself some awful names.  "I'm lazy."  "I'm ugly."  "I'm mean."  "I don't deserve this."  "I'm ungrateful."  "I'm dumb."  "I'm not worth it."  "I'm hateful and bitter."  "I'd be a terrible mother."  "I'm selfish."

Travis hears me say this.  Today, I fell deep into a funk.  Every once in a while, I will just wake up, and everything will feel wrong.  I will refuse to go outside and be seen.  I won't want to talk to anyone.  I want to bottle myself up and lock me away.  I will sleep until the day passes.  That's what happened today.

I stayed up late trying to find paperwork.  I had a dentist appointment at 7:45 AM this morning.  Sure enough, I slept right through my alarm this morning.  I had a list of things I wanted to get done today - and going to the dentist was number 1.  You want to know how many things on my To-Do List that I actually accomplished today?  ZERO.

I missed the dentist appointment.  "OMG, Liz, you are so unreliable.  Why would anyone want to hire you for a good paying job?"  Boom.  I skipped going to a company that has my dream job available.  I already sent a resume to them, but I wanted to go in and introduce myself and present a portfolio of my work.  I stayed in bed instead.  I looked at my portfolio and pointed out everything that is wrong with it.  I tossed it aside.  It wasn't good enough to give out to someone looking to hire.  I was going to go to the zoo to volunteer today.  Did I do that?  Nope.  I got up out of bed, looked at the time.  I had about 3 hours until the office closed.  "You are so slow, you can't get ready in that time and get there in enough time to get anything done.  Way to go for ruining the day!"

I didn't go.  I looked at myself in the mirror and called myself mean names.  I looked around our room - which needs some serious attention right now since Travis and I have been working non-stop.  It's a mess.  I felt like a terrible wife.  Here I sit, sulking, and Travis is at work busting his butt to make a decent paycheck.  He can't do it all.  So automatically, I hate myself for not helping it out like I should.  I'm not a good wife.  I don't deserve him.

Travis called me to talk during one of his breaks.  I told him I'm having one of my bad days.  He talked to me, saying it was all ok.  The company has my resume.  I can turn my portfolio in next week and fix it up how I want it until then.  It was no big deal.  He said, "oh wow, you missed a dentist appointment!  Who cares?  It happens.  Just reschedule it.  Yeah sure we just lost $25.  But oh well, you didn't mean to!"  I told him how I couldn't get up to even go out to the zoo.  He said "It's VOLUNTEERING!  They said you can go in whenever you want.  You made your own deadlines and schedules.  It's not that big of a deal!  Just go in on another day."  (I found out later that no one was even in the office today anyways because of an event.)  I told him about how I felt like I can't accomplish anything.  Our room is a disaster and I'm just messing things up.  He told me to just do some laundry and relax.  I'm burnt out.  He then invited me to dinner when he went on break just so I could get out of the house.

I'm lucky to have Travis who understands me.  But I haven't told my parents any of this.  I dodge their questions when they bring anything up.  I don't want them to think less of me.  I know that they won't.  I just feel like I owe it to them to be a good daughter - a daughter to be proud of.  Right now, I'm not too proud of myself - so why should they be?  

I have these terrible funks.  I know I don't broadcast my downfalls.  I only try to post the happy stuff.  I only try to post the pleasant things in life because I don't want to recognize these bad moments I have.  I don't want to be a whiner.  I don't know how to overcome this.  The answers seem so easy and simple. Just get up and do what you have to do.  Don't think.  Just do it.  But some days, I can't and I don't know why.

**ETA:  I should clarify so that no one takes this out of context.  When Travis told me to do some laundry, it's because he knows doing laundry puts me in a better mood.  I don't know why, but I enjoy it.  It also needed to get done anyways.  And since our room is a disaster and it's mostly clothes, he knows that our room being a mess is affecting my behavior.  If I, myself, get up and make it better - it puts me in a happier mood.  He was not trying to domestic me or be chauvinistic in any way.**