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
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
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