So here is the thing. It really is A OK. Even if you are not ok, it's ok to not be.

It is that time of year we, (usually the female persuasion, sorry guys but I know the majority of my guys leave it up to the gals) try to put way to much on our calendars. This party, that party, shopping here, shopping there, bake these cookies, finish up these handmades, decorate!!!! You get the point, our calendars are so filled with STUFF that we have little to no time to enjoy any of it. Guys again you don't count, you wouldn't enjoy half of that if you DID have the time.

So here you are, running around like a chicken who is on the menu for Sunday dinner, and what do you get out of it? Tired, run down, exhausted, stressed! What an excellent gift to receive!! Not. What is worse, we are giving it to each other with little to no concern! That just don't sounds very Christmasy to me. 

As if that insanity is not enough, lets throw in a dash of grief and depression, you know to mix things up a bit. (adding you guys back in now) Many of us have a layer of sadness during the holidays, we miss a mother who enjoyed Christmas, we miss a sibling that used to share in the joy of Santa with us, we miss a friend, a husband, there is a moment in the hustle and bustle that a tear wells in your eye and a breath catches in your throat as you wish just for a moment they were there, then most move on with a smile of remembrance. As parents of children who are spending their holiday season in Heaven it isn't a moment, usually that tear wells the week before Thanksgiving and slowly slides down our cheeks until some time in mid January. There isn't a moment that is not clouded by a sadness that only we could understand, even in the happy moments the longing of spending just one more Christmas morning with our child.  From seeing their bright face as they rush in to see what Santa has delivered, to hearing their cheery voices sing Christmas songs of days gone by, the memories flood our hearts. For myself, this will be the 9th and 6th Christmas without Little Dustin and Deanna, it is a time frame in which some believe I should have moved on, that there should be more happiness than sadness, this is just not the case.

I don't know if a time comes where we as Angel Parents can say with all certainty that we have more happy in us than sadness, I can only speak for myself and right now I can tell you that the smile you see the majority of the time is a plastered falseness that is only there to get me through that moment in time so that someone else does not feel awkward.  Here I stand with emotions the size of mountains in me and yet my first instinct is to fake it for you, because in this lot there just is no fake it until you make it.  In the last year alone I have been called psychotic, selfish, deplorable, just to name a few and those were just in the few moments that I stood up for myself, can you imagine what the words would be if I didn't wear the mask to face the masses?

I saw a Facebook meme the other day, it had this beautiful woman looking into a mirror with this creature looking back at her, the quote was imagine if mirrors showed your character. I thought then what would mine look like. I didn't think it would look beautiful, not because I am a bad person, but because I no longer feel like a person. I imagined it to be the reflection of a gigantic heart with a fantastic dark hole right in the center. My heart is huge and as if the grief of my own isn't enough I take on the pain and problems of anyone near me.  You may be thinking what a beautiful image to have of of ones self, possibly, but the heart is tired, what is visible is worn out, and there are hands grabbing at it, and some punching it and those are in the way of the people trying so desperately to hug it.  Usher in Christmas and there stands the Grinch mocking my heart, look at all the pain, look at all you have lost, look at those you couldn't help, or save, look at those that hate you, look at your failures, look at the past, look at the fact that you could not save your own children....

Let that sink in.

That no matter how big my heart was, I couldn't save him... I couldn't save her.. These are my burdens to bear, and I don't think that any amount of time will heal or fill that hole.

My point... to all of you.. YES ALL OF YOU, regardless of your source of sadness, it could be your first of 100th Christmas with out your mother, or you maybe facing your child's addiction, you may quietly watching the love of your life self destruct unable to find a way to help them, your friend maybe in trouble and you can't find the right words....  it is ok to just not be ok. If you find yourself overwhelmed, stressed, sad, grieving, please know you are not alone.  There is someone out there who understands that the pressures we put on our selves are overwhelming and at times unbearable.  Let someone you love know how your heart feels, that you just need a moment to gather yourself and your feels, even if that moment stretches into a day, a week...

Take care of you, before the hole is your whole.

Peace and Love
Re

I made a mistake almost 8 months ago. I stopped writing. I threw words and clips and phrases onto Facebook in hopes that it would satisfy this pain in my heart because who wants to read these sad, upsetting posts all the time. No one that is who. (keep in mind that was in my head and my head is not even close to my friend)

I don't think I ever just posted the bad, I think I posted the triumphs and the successes too but for the last 6 months I forgot that. I just remembered the sad. I felt like I had said all I could say about child loss and the journey that follows. The grief was going in a circle so no one needed to hear that, but wait, did they?  Life is still marching on and the journey continues, it didn't just suddenly end at her 5th angelversary, but I thought, oh how I thought, you should be past this, just stop. So I did. Now here I am still having gone through 8 months of hills and valleys and still have this overwhelming emptiness that sometimes only my words in print can fill.

What prompted me to write again? Probably an unlikely source but it was a video about a quadruple amputee.  Above the post said something close to "so you think losing weight is the hardest thing you will ever do, watch this"  I watched. While my heart went out to this guy, and so many other soldiers like him the post made me mad, the video made me mad, and sad, and frustrated. "Welcome to the club" some other soldier says to him, in response he replies "I don't want to be in your club!". How many times have I said I don't want to be in this club, this horrendous place where you don't live without your legs, or your arms, but you live with a ginormous hole in your heart the size of all the stars in the sky, you know, one that no one sees.  The whole jest of the video was that this guy didn't quit and ended up helping others through his pain and loss. 

If you saw him, you too would be in awe, hell I was. If you saw me, if you didn't know me, you would think "Jesus.. what is wrong with her, she is constantly sad and looking like some kind of Wal Mart reject." or how about, "She has been working out for 6 years and she is still fat, unhealthy, and in the back of the pack". If you saw him struggle to get up and get dressed, you would again be in awe of the strength and determination it took to not ask for help and to do it himself, if you saw one of us struggle, you know one of us from my club, one would probably think "She got up just fine yesterday what the hell is wrong with her today".  If you saw him put on his legs and work out one would probably think "whoa look at him power through" if you saw me it would probably be "why is she so lazy, she isn't really trying".

Over the last few months many things have happened in my life, some good, some bad, some just normal but life still just happened.

I lost a dog, yes I have every right to say I lost a dog, she was part of my life for a year, I fed her, snuggled her, cared for her, I cried many buckets of tears, in the end I was prepared and ready for her transition across the bridge so as to end her pain. I miss her dearly and still to this very minute can't see out of my front windows because I refuse to clean her nose prints, because I didn't just lose a dog, I lost a friend, she was a good friend.

My beloved "Diddy" had a stroke. He is fine! He is right back to his healthy, fox chasing, sports watching, tv breaking self, but those few days were an unbelievable blow.  While he was still with me physically for a week or so my best friend was gone. The stories were gone. The random chats about nothing were gone. It was like putting on your favorite record and carefully placing the needle to the vinyl and finding all the words were not there all of a sudden. You were grateful to have the album but incredibly saddened at the loss of words. I can't thank everyone enough for being there, for not only my dad, but also my brother and I as we struggled through the uncharted waters. We are beyond happy that this chapter had a happy ending and that all is right in the world of Hounddog.

I chose to bring peace and order back to my home through a series of chaotic events. That is all that needs to be said about that, I sleep very well at night now.

I made a crazy 34 hour road trip with my Daddy to bring home my newest family member, she deserves her own post and will get one soon.

I bought a jeep, my dream ride, I completed my Spartan trifecta, people were born... people died... I think you are getting the point. Life just goes on. Sounds so normal doesn't it? Or does it.

Imagine, going through the journey of all of this, with a prosthetic heart, because that is what it is like. Getting up in the morning and shoving a hunk of plastic in your chest, so that you can stand the normalcy of the life that is just moving right along regardless of the pain that you still feel.

I couldn't have made it this far without the poster of the video. He is one of my dearest friends, he has supported me, and triumphed with me, he wouldn't want you to know it but he has shed a tear or two.  I am not concerned if he will be upset about this post because he is one of the handful of people in my life that remember on a daily basis that I am not a whole person any more, and just does his damnedest to keep me upright.

So what is the point then you ask? It was actually one of many.

First off, it reminded me, of something my dear friend Tater said to me in the wake of my dad's, "thing" as he calls he. We were talking about Deanna and he said, "We all have different ways of dealing with things, your Dad he stays strong, you, you write about how you feel". I had no idea Tater even knew that I wrote, apparently my dad had told him about it.  This guy in the video he ends up doing some great things to help people, me my great things are my words, I sometimes forget that. Tater, I love ya buddy, thank you for all the things.

Second, it reminded me that since that day I have had learn to live life completely differently. While I don't have plastic and metal to lean on when I can't walk on my own, I have an army of the dearest of family and friends that are the prosthetic of my heart.  It would take a week to list you all, and I think you all know who you are.  Ed, Amanda, Chris, Kami, Phyl, Todd, Drake, Mama and Daddy... thank you for being pieces of the support I need daily. Everyone else, believe me I have not forgotten you, I know I have a network of catchers if I fall past the front lines and you are all loved so dearly.

Third, it reminded me that not all things are visible, that pain and struggle can be hidden, so maybe that chick you see crying in the grocery store isn't just having a mental break, maybe she saw something that reminded her of her daughter, or maybe she is in chronic pain from an illness no one knows she has, or maybe she buried her best friend, or maybe she is struggling so hard at single mom'ing, or maybe she is in fact having a mental break, either way its time to support each other, because without badges, no one knows the struggle behind the person.

And lastly, if I don't help myself by writing, the support that I obtain from others doesn't go any farther than me and to me that is a waste of love.

While I still may be fat, I still may be at the back, I still may cry, I still may hurt, I still may not get out of bed every morning, here I am, doing the hardest thing for me,  the next thing. The next thing will always be the hardest.

My gift to myself, my words.

Peace and Love
Re