Hiatus

This will likely be my last post for a while and maybe forever. 

Something happened two weeks ago that was a blow I was expecting, but never realized how much it would turn me upside down.

Up until recently, I had an on and off again relationship with my youngest brother and his family. It was my last and only connection. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't even good most of the time. But, it was all I had. Even when it was bad, there was hope. 

When my brother and I spent face to face time together, it was really good with a one time exception. That gave me hope. That kept me connected. That kept me from feeling completely alone. 

My mom hung up on me when I told her I was being baptized and never called back. A year and two years after, I called my parents house only to be hung up on both times.

My middle brother refused phone calls and texts and social media connections. Christmas and birthday cards for him and his kids were returned. 

While I had many reasons to walk away from my toxic family, I technically never had a chance. 

The details don't really matter at this point, but I did something that upset my family. It was a victory for me to retrieve, in a legal way, items from my grandpa. I bought, paid for, traveled to Kansas and brought home some items that had great significance to me. Things that nobody else had wanted and the family had decided to sell to strangers in an auction. 

Again, why this upset my family is really important at this point. 

One family member decided to go on a full blown attack of me after that. Because I know the family and behavior, I know the bottom line was that I did something they disapproved of and they couldn't stop it. However, the attack was very personal. 

Another thing I got from her assault was that some of the family truly has no clue why I am estranged. Not only that, but there is a lack of desire to fully understand. There are ideas and rumors and bad information. What was very clear was that in all that, I was not going to be given an opportunity to explain, defend myself or clear up misinformation. 

The clearest message was that the relationship I had with my youngest brother is now over. The hope is gone. 

While I understand her assault was more about her insecurities and faults, I have been crushed.

It wasn't her insults and attack. It wasn't what she said, which amounted to mostly opinion about my mental status and less about facts. It wasn't that she couldn't really tell me what would make the situation improve or what she wanted. It wasn't that she was making a solid case for it being safer for me to keep my distance. It wasn't the insanely rude things she said or her questioning my christianity.

It was the idea and claim that I was incapable of loving my niece or nephew or anybody really. It was the thought expressed that I deserved the awful things that had happened to me. It was the words "nobody really cares." 

We parted ways. They are blocked from my life. There is relief in that. There is relief in not needing to filter what I say. There is relief in knowing there is a separation.

There is intense pain. There is an extreme grief. The grief, anger, pain, it feels like it's ripping me apart. Honestly, it's that loss of hope that I'd hung onto for 11 years. It was the tiniest of all hopes, but in a world where I already felt unwanted, it was huge for me. 

We are headed into the holidays. Some of the past 11 holiday seasons have been hard and some have gone by without deep depression. But here I am, feeling absolutely abandoned without hope of ever having a family for the first time ever. I may have felt like that in the past, but this is a reality now. 

In the quiet of my own house on a daily basis, I look around and the idea that I so much and so little overwhelms me. I have no family. I have nobody to care for me when I'm old. The giant room closes in and I fight to catch my breath. For two weeks, I've fought that gut-wrenching aloneness in a a whole new way. 

This is the kind of pain that rattles my faith. I have been through the long trials where I learned that God was the only one I could count on or that He was all I needed. But, I'm just not sure why I now have this really big hurt. Wasn't the past ones enough? It starts to make me question if I am in fact deserving of what I have gotten. 

This blog has been a place where I could put all the stuff. Good. Bad. Indifferent. It was a place where I could come and look at how much I've changed or grown. 

Now, it is just something I want to put away. I don't want it any more. I'm not sure the trials, the pain, were worth any of it. 

Bully

We traveled back to Kansas this summer while we had a lot of extra time. It was a short, but quality visit with my husbands family.

While we were there, we went to eat at a local restaurant. I saw someone there that set the wheels in motion for a solid two months of flashbacks and memories of my childhood bully.

All the media attention to bullying had already reminded me that I hated school. Kids in my school were so mean to each other. We never saw it as bullying, but "just the way kids were" back then.

For me, there was one particular boy. He lived in my neighborhood and went to school with me from Kindergarten through graduation. Unfortunately, he was also in my class most of the time.

He was the class clown. Small in stature, he always had to have attention. He was well loved. I believe he still is. I know he is thought highly of in our home town and is a christian, family man.

But there was a time when he was my school day nightmare.

In kindergarten, he exposed himself multiple times on the playground. Good grief, where were my teachers!?! It didn't stop.

He was the one to always draw attention to me if something were out of sorts. I had bruises from home, he pointed them out and made a joke of it. I had stained or ripped clothes, he had the entire class laughing at me.

In junior high, he named my breasts. I wish that was all he had done. I was tall, he was short. He taunted, teased, touched and tortured me with humiliation as he ran around gym classes smacking me in the chest. It wasn't once or twice, it was daily. In high school, he continued the physical assault any chance he got. He shamed me in front of classmates for how I looked or dressed. He perpetuated and started rumors about me.

Honestly, I have no idea why. I also know I wasn't his only target. He picked on anyone he saw as weaker than himself.

He saw my dad beat me. He knew that my home life was awful. In his own weird way, he used to "protect" me by walking me home from school everyday. But at school, he was completely opposite.

When I saw him in July, I lost my appetite. I've had a flood of memories about him. My 25th class reunion in this weekend. I just found out about it. I don't think I would have gone anyway. I don't really have friends from my class, but I wouldn't want to see this guy again.

College Back Then

It has been a crazy five months and I'll have to detail all that later. There are a few things triggering me on a daily basis and I feel like I need to put it somewhere instead of letting it swirl in my head.

I am getting ready to pay off my student loan from 2015. In 2014, I had some big revelation that I'm not sure I truly understood or maybe I just wasn't ready for it.

After going through some really tough stuff, I let someone convince me that my purpose in life was to help others who have been through tough stuff. I needed something in my life at the time. I was looking for purpose. It seemed like I was reading it all right. The thing about listening to someone else's plan for your life is that it might not actually be the right plan for your life. It wasn't mine.

I enrolled at Liberty University pursuing a degree in christian counseling. I took a semester of classes. That semester and two more full of psych classes were all I needed to have a christian counseling degree.

Something I learned during that was that I wasn't ready for classes. My PTSD set me up for extreme stress and painful crashes when I put high pressure on myself to succeed. I aced the semester, but by the time it was over I was a hot mess. I was having anxiety attacks multiple times per day. After a lot of soul searching and discussion with my husband, school was not going to work for me. It was too much pressure and my PTSD made it nearly impossible to balance.

The other thing I learned was that the complexity of my trauma has and will continue to make it impossible for me to sit face to face and listen to others' trauma. Being a counselor was not the plan for my life.

Several months ago, I had someone ask me why I didn't finish college the first time I started.

That started a lot of questioning and thinking and even memories. Fast forward to the past week of going through some old paperwork and a variety of other triggers.

Going to college the first time was no simple task. I had excellent grades in high school and that led to a variety of scholarships. My major was journalism and it was an area I excelled. I had been accepted to a handful of community colleges and universities. I could have gone just about anywhere with my grades and ACT score.

Shortly after my high school graduation, I moved out of my house. I had three jobs and could fully support myself. I could not stay there. I had committed to two years at the local community college and then had planned to head to KSU to finish.

I had good grades in my first year of college. I was active in the journalism program.

Here's the problem...

I couldn't leave. I still had what I felt was a responsibility to my younger brothers. I was still supporting them financially. I was still bailing them out of tough spots. I was still there when they needed me. I was still around to make sure they survived home. I gave them places to hide after they got into fist fights with my dad.

After a year in school, I took an additional job and never went back to school. All my time was spent working and still living in the dysfunction of my original home. I was trapped in this crazy life.

It was impossible to move into adulthood fully and succeed with college.

I have a sense of anger and frustration. I should have finished college years ago. I had a bright future ahead of me, but a dark past that wouldn't let go of me.

Honestly, I am not sure the dark past ever lets go. It's more of a fight to get away from it.

Number 43

This year's birthday turned out absolutely perfect.

I had thought it would be a bust. There was a period of high emotion leading up to it in regards to family. But then my husband made it perfect, unlike he'd ever done before.

The night before he asked if I had any plans. I didn't. Of course I didn't. I don't know many people and those people would have no clue it was my birthday.

The morning of, I was washing my face and trying to get ready for his MRI. He had a back MRI at 7:30 that morning. I told him I was going to come back home and go back to sleep.

That's when he surprised me. He told me that he didn't want me to spend my birthday alone, so he had taken the day off. It shocked me. He hadn't mentioned it or even suggested it. I hadn't suggested it either. It's something he's never done and I've never asked him to do.

So, we loaded the dogs up and headed to the hospital. I hung out with the pups while he had his test. Something amazing happened during that time, but that's another post for another time.

Afterward, we headed toward Indianapolis.

It was a day of exploring one small section of Indy. We went to this special bakery. We got treats to bring home that were simply exquisite. From there, we went to a unique candle shop. By then, it was lunch time. We headed to Mimi's Blue Meatball. Oh my word! Those were some delicious meatballs.

We drove around some and headed home. We stopped at got flowers to plant at a local, small nursery.

After we got home, I snuck in a nap. We tried a new place in our town for dinner.

It was overall an amazing day. Simple, surprising and perfect.

A State of Prepping

We have felt settled here for a while, like it is our home. It probably becomes more so with each passing day and week and month. This month, though, feels unsettled. We are prepping. And, what feels like a constant state of prepping.

Our agents have gotten involved in the issues with our house. This may or may not work. It is the last effort before going into a legal battle with the builder. There was a feeling of validation as they walked through our home and repeatedly let us know that the things which concerned us were indeed unacceptable in a new home. With that said, we know one of two things will happen. We will need to prepare mentally and physically for the challenges that will come with having our home under construction. None of the things that are wrong with the home will be easy. They are huge. Doors and windows and floors being torn out and replaced, siding being torn off and concrete being busted up. It will be a mess. If the builder fails to follow through on his workmanship warranty contract, then we will have to be prepared mentally for the challenges that come with going to court. Either way, we have to prep for this.

Before a lot of life got crazier than normal, we planned a spring vacation. We are headed to Florida at the end of next week. That will be a great time of relaxing. We've been before so we know the things we want to do and will have plenty of time to just soak up the sun on the beach. But as relaxing as it will be, there is prepping to do. That falls on me. Except my husband's clothes, I pack and plan everything.

I pack for the dogs. That means, I also schedule groomings and shots and everything else they need before we go. I pack. I pack special foods, medications, toys, bones, cages and anything else that might be needed for a 10 day trip. They get their own bag.

I have to plan for the long car ride, snacks and if we will break the trip up. It is a straight through 12 hour trip. We are not doing that all in one day.

After several trips, I have learned to embrace this as my vacation too. That means, I don't plan to cook. We might buy some breakfast items or fruit for the house, but I'm not cooking. I want to enjoy meals while I'm away. It is cheaper to cook a few meals. However, I've also learned we end up with a lot of leftovers. We make a few meals out of that and save money that way.

One week after we return from vacation, Kent will be having major back surgery. I feel like this is the biggest thing we are prepping for right now. His surgery will last 90 minutes to 6 hours depending on what they have to do. It is a fluid situation for the surgeon. Removing bone may make his spine too loose and they may need to fuse some of his discs together. He also has another nerve issue that he's just not sure how he will fix until he gets into surgery.

My first stage of prep is making sure everything is ok on surgery day and the day after. We have four dogs. They have to be taken care of so that I can focus on Kent. He will be in the hospital 1-2 nights depending on surgery and recovery. That's a long time to need help and we just don't know many people here. I have pieced together some help, but I'm still not sure how it's going to work.

Then I have the 6-8 weeks he will be home recovering. What all does he do that he won't be able to do? All of it! I'll have to mow, but thankfully we don't have much grass. I'll have to drive everywhere. I'll have to manage his needs and appointments, which will include follow up and therapy. I have to plan for things like heavy lifting, salt bags, mulch bags, etc. Not to mention, just the everyday stuff that he helps with around the house, will all fall on me for two months or longer. He will be off 6-8 weeks, but his restrictions will last for a few months. Needless to say, there's a lot of prepping as well as mentally prepping for all the things I didn't think of before hand.

I know this is a season. It's a season that will pass like all the others similar in the past. It is a little anxiety provoking. But, I know once this season has past, it will be good. I'll have more to say about that soon.

The Stages of Grief in Church

We have been in Indiana five months now. Since things have settled a bit, I think some emotional stuff has snuck up on me. We do live in a bigger town, but it is by no means a large city. I can tell they have moved toward upgrading their healthcare system with a new hospital with a lot of clinics related to the the hospital group. In doing so, they have attracted a lot of specialty offices and mental healthcare is one of those. We also have really good insurance now, so just about everyone takes our insurance.

Here is the problem I am facing. This town is high poverty, high drug use and high mental illness. That means, it is a high medicaid use area. In the push to decrease drug use with the opioid crisis, most mental healthcare providers accept medicaid and their schedules are jam packed for months.

The other part of the problem is me. When I find a provider with openings, I am told that my case is too complex for the available providers. Complex in diagnosis and severity of my trauma. I am a high liability case for most providers and they just don't want to jump into that.

So, I'm going to try to do my best to process the nagging things that have been bringing me down lately.

We (really me) have taken a hiatus from church hunting. There is the fact that the sheer exhaustion of church hunting so many times in the past four years has gotten to me. Then there is seeing the ugliness of churches when you are a first time visitor. Don't get me wrong, some do this very well. But, the truth is most don't. Most of the time visitors aren't very well received. I have a theory about this. Going to church is not a priority for some and think this is an increasing problem. When your regular members only go a couple times a year, you never really know who is a visitor and who is a member who is never there.

Anyway, now that my husband is pushing to go back to church, I have been forced to face my feelings about why I don't want any part of it. I honestly think it is because I am still in the stages of grief over leaving our very first church.

I have been through denial, when we knew we needed to leave and stayed a few extra months. I have been through anger. Lots of it. In a weird way, I've been through bargaining. "If we go here, I'll be happy because it's not the other place."

Honestly, I have lived in acceptance for a while now. I am happy for that church. They appear to be thriving and the people there still love it. I think God wants strong, thriving churches. I have accepted that we didn't belong there. It was right for a time, but God was right to move us on from there.

Someone told me once that a church split was like a divorce. I can see that. I saw a lot of my friends handle it that way. For me, it felt more like a war. Both sides passionately stood their ground, staking claim to certain people as other friends left. I know that's a bit dramatic, but it's what it was like for me as I watched the conflicted people around me. By the way, it's a war nobody wins.

When I went through my stages of grief, I was mostly far, far away from the church. I was going through a sadness of relationships falling apart. I blamed it all on that. I think that allowed me to skip over the depression or sadness part. I may have briefly stepped through that stage, but nothing like now.

I am sad. I'm not sad about the church. I meant what I said, I'm happy for them. I am sad for what I lost.

In leaving the church and struggling through my strong emotions, I lost a lot of friends. Sure, I made mistakes. I was an immature Christian going through something very painful in the church. I am positive that I did or said things that pissed people off. Nobody confronted me. Nobody corrected me. It was very much as if they just stopped caring and couldn't be rid of me fast enough.

That might not be what happened, but it was my perception. You know what else never happened? Grace, forgiveness, understanding, loving...

That's the part causing my sadness. I'm not talking about people who were acquaintances. I mean people who walked through dark days with me. People who we spent a great deal of time with over several years. People we did intimate bible study with at the church. People we sat with in small groups. People who knew us, knew our hearts and history. We lived life with these people as our family for over five years.

It is crazy because it's not even only people who stayed at the church. Relationships fell apart with people who left because we left at different times or for different reasons.

It's very hard for me still today when someone I considered to be like a brother or sister has zero to do with me. It also make social media a nightmare.

I'm not sure what it takes for this stage to go away. While church affiliation should not determine relationships, it really has. So, I can't see those friendships changing at this point. I'm ready for it to be over though. Now! It's such a deep sadness, grieving, mourning.

No doubt, this experience has grown me and stretched me in so many ways. I'm not sure I would ever wish for it to not have happened. But, this loss lingers still. It sits in my heart. It's part of the wall that prevents me from wanting to get involved with another church.

It's April Already?

I can't believe another month has just flown by so fast.

Several important things took place in the past 30-45 days.

We took our first weekend get away trip to Tennessee at the beginning of March. I am so glad we did. It was a much needed time away. We shared it with friends who were going through some high stress with house selling and buying. We did have one hiccup of having sick dogs from a new food. They typically don't have problems with food switches that are short term. However, we dealt with lots and lots of pooping and puking for about a week.

Earlier in the month, my only living grandpa had a heart attack. He ended up having six bypasses and is currently doing well at home. He had a great recovery. That probably deserves a post all of it's own because there was a lot of stuff that came out of that time and communicating with secondary family members.

I continue to not have any contact with my family. That too deserves a post of it's own. I see through social media that my nephew is getting ready to graduate and head to college. I also have a niece who should be doing the same, but I don't really know.

We finally, just last week, finalized our settlement with the moving company. What a mess! That's about all I can say. We've never had a flawless move and don't believe that ever happens. But this one, it has been the worst. Our settlement was nearly $5000 and there weren't too many items over $40 that were a complete loss. That's kind of an indication of just how much stuff was damaged. Lots! I should probably write a post about all the things to do and not do in a move and how to handle the damage claim part of it.

We continue to fight with the builder over our fireplace. It still isn't right. Sadly, it's probably 7-8 on the list of major things wrong with the house. We still have to deal with everything else in due time. It doesn't look like the grass is coming in very well either, although we are still very much in winter. Our back yard is a constant mud puddle and thus, so is our house. The dogs just bring so much in! The builder has made it to where water run off and rain from every house on our block runs right into our back yard. Ugh! We will be getting a professional in soon to lay some rock paths to allow the water flow without it just being a muddy river. I'm not sure we would ever want to buy a brand new house again.

This past weekend was Easter. We spent most of the long weekend on the go. It was all good though. It was great to have the time together. We visited a church yesterday where the pastor was awesome, but the drive distance is not. Church hasn't been high on my priority list, but again, that's probably another post all of it's own.

February Life

Things have been unusually busy for me the past month. There wasn't anything particular that stood out as taking a lot of energy, but it was a general state of busyness.

Each time someone asks if we are settled, I say yes. However, there's this feeling each month that we are more settled than the previous month. I would say this month has been no exception.

We did have our first visitors. One of our friends came out for a long weekend with her dogs. We went to Cincinnati for shopping and pizza. The next day, we went to a gun show. Her first time. It kind of sucked compared to other shows we have attended. It was dreary and wet, so we spent most of the weekend at the house. We baked and cooked. It was a great weekend and I can't wait for it to happen again.

We have done a lot of stuff lately. Kent installed new toilets. Our were new, but they were short and small, even below standard size. He put in tall ones that are way more comfortable.

There wasn't a lot going on for Valentines Day. We got each other small gifts and went out for a quiet dinner at McAlisters. Funny enough, we also went toilet shopping/buying that evening.

We are still fighting with our builder over some of the issues with the house. We still do not have a working fireplace. It is 70 degrees today. My excitement over a fireplace has long faded at this point. The builder and I had a heated exchange two weeks ago and oddly enough, I figured out that he is triggering my ptsd and anxiety. He is a very rude man who talks to me horribly, treats me as if I am dumb. Not a good combo for me. I am hoping that once we pass this point of having to have contact with him weekly, that my anxiety will decrease.

There are a couple things sliding into our lives that we really weren't ready for, but will have to face head on.

My husband has started the process of finding a surgeon for his back. He has needed surgery for three years or more. The pain has reached an unbearable level and he is never not in pain. In fact, he is tired a lot because he cannot get comfortable to sleep at night. The timing isn't great with just starting his job, but his insurance is about the best it has been in ten years. Doctors around here will not see a new patient without a referral from another doctor, so we are waiting for all the pieces to fall into place. I look for him to have surgery within the next couple months.

I learned this week that my last living grandpa had a heart attack and will be having bypass surgery this week. Of course I got that information from an aunt because my brother still has not had contact with me since he jacked me around with my other grandpa's death. Sad. Sad. Sad. The ordeal with this grandpa has made me think about health and heredity, tracing family history of heart disease. My dad and his brothers are all mid 50s - 60s. None of them have any heart health issues, at least not yet and not diagnosed. My grandma has had heart surgery, but her problems were all congenital. It appears that years of eating my grandmas cooking could have led to my grandpas current issues. He had nine siblings and only one of them had heart health issues.

The issues with my grandpa led to some honest discussion with one of my cousins. She is the only other christian in my entire family on either side. We are about 10-12 years apart in age, so I didn't have a previous relationship with her. Some conversation with her has been enlightening.

My dad's family at one time was all Jewish. Now, my grandparents, dad and uncles are all atheists. I find that incredibly interesting. To be clear, my dad is evil. His brothers are not. They are average men who have taken care of their families. Outside of one cousin who has battled substance abuse, all of their children are very normal.

Because I feel a greater sense of ease sharing my story lately, I was able to be honest with my cousin about some of life with my parents. I didn't share a lot. In fact, I apologized for what I did tell her. Everyone has this idea of what and who my parents are and I have never shared any different with family members. Partially because one time I tried and my aunt shut me down, claiming that he was a good man. It was a bit freeing. I knew that at least one person on that side of the family knew that I didn't walk away from my family over religion or because I believed myself to be better than them. She said she actually believed it was a religious issue and nothing else.

Interestingly enough, she shared that in high school when she was punished, she was grounded from church. I find it incredibly interesting. I was punished for going to church. Taking church away was her punishment at times. It speaks to this entire family's lack of respect for church and God. I swear our family would be an excellent case study in so many ways.

Mental Wellness

Mental health is in the news more now than ever. The general population has a better (still not great) understanding of what depression is along with anxiety and PTSD. For the first time ever, I heard PTSD referred to as an illness caused by trauma and not just the "soldier's" illness.

Of course it is usually tragedy that brings discussion on mental illness. There's still stigma. There's still a huge lack of understanding and misunderstanding.

One of the things that makes me anxious when we've moved is how I will fit in with people who don't know me. That's crazy, because I fit in perfectly with people who don't know me. Too well! Nobody ever suspects there is a problem. I suppose my fear should actually come from the idea of someone getting to know me, the real me.

Before our first move nearly four years ago, I had an awesome support system. It had taken a while to get established and wasn't without trials. I had friends who knew me and loved me despite the truth of who and what I was.

When we moved to Ohio, I made the mistake of just assuming people would be just as loving and compassionate as that support system I had back home. Not so! They bristled against anyone who willingly said "I have issues." Ohio was also when my counseling stopped.

Despite the relational issues in Ohio, I had good mental health through those 2 1/2 years. I was strong, or so I thought. No, I was. Strong enough to attempt things I previously thought impossible.

I took one semester of classes online. They were hard, but passed. I succeeded and failed simultaneously. I had a successful semester and had enrolled in the next. My goal was a degree in christian counseling. Despite how well I did, I nearly had a full blown breakdown. The entire thing set my anxiety off in ways I could not control. I started not sleeping and barely making it through a day without a full blown anxiety attack.

After talking with my husband, we determined that maybe I wasn't quite ready for this type of stress. I was upset that I had failed to complete my goal, but happy that I had the energy to try. I could have chosen to not even try.

The following year, I agreed to return to work on a very part time basis. This was a disaster. It was an absolute failure. It was in a job that wasn't well defined and too many church politics. It too increased my anxiety and caused me to become more and more distant from my daily duties.

Again, after discussing with my husband, we determined it was too soon. Truthfully, it was probably a combination of wrong place and wrong timing. I was happy that I tried, but of course upset to not succeed.

The truth is that my anxiety, ptsd and other issues are a hinderance in working. I never know when they will flare up and all of those things make me unreliable and difficult.

I have been asked here if I will look for a job. Believe me, I would love to contribute to the household  income.

While we lived in KC, I got a little counseling. It was more for the trials that came with Kent's job and there was no work on any issues related to my anxiety, ptsd, etc. We didn't really have enough time to get into that during the few months of counseling.

Here, I have no counseling. We are still getting settled. I haven't even looked into what is available. This area is bigger than where we lived in Ohio, so there is a little better chance to get counseling here.

Maybe it is because our time in KC was so hard, but I didn't start out quite as well off here as I did in Ohio. It has been more difficult here. I find myself triggered a lot more here, probably backsliding a lot more.

I stay at home unless there's a reason to get out. I try not go to the grocery store without my husband. I get so overwhelmed that I hate being out alone. Honestly, if I can stay in a routine at home then I do ok. Getting out of the routine is hard and throws my day and maybe my whole week off. It isn't so much ocd, but the anxiety.

This move has been the hardest. We've had more problems with the actual move and house than in any other place. And that's saying a lot since our first move was into a house that was trashed.

So for now, there won't be a job. I'm not even looking, not interested in looking for one. I am best off at home where I have safety and my dogs to ground me.

It is interesting how some of this seems to come from flexibility and how much I have to be flexible. This move has pushed me to be flexible in a lot of ways. But, it's like I have zero flexibility left to give in other areas of my life and I have to be a little more rigid in order to maintain some stability. Although as I read that through, I realize you might have to be a professional to understand that.

All that to say, I'm trying to maintain some stability but it's been hard this time. My mental wellness has taken a hit over the past year and through this move. It might take some time to get back what I've lost.

Post Christmas 2 of 2

As I said, it was the best Christmas we've had in a long while. 

There wasn't loud, obnoxious people. 

There wasn't crazy, hard family dynamics. 

There wasn't fighting or rudeness.

There wasn't travel.

There wasn't pain.

Wait. There was pain. Grief, really.

The day was nearly perfect, but there was an unspoken, heavy grief that hung ever so lightly above us. 

We knew it was there, but we didn't talk about it and didn't let it slip into our day. Sure, it was discussed on all days surrounding Christmas. But Christmas, it was kept at bay. Maybe more so kept in our hearts and not on our tongues.

My husband missed his mother. She was the person who made his holidays special as a kid and some as an adult. He was 32 when we got married. She was his person for a lot of years before I came along. I respect that and am glad he had that. 

There's so much to be thankful for in her death. Christmas was so hard. She was forced by her husband into anxiety provoking situations. She was forced to sit and open gifts, belittled in front of the family when she couldn't remember who people were or didn't really understand how to thank someone. We had about five of those between diagnosis and death. I don't miss those at all! Honestly, Kent doesn't either. 

We didn't miss the loud, obnoxious hours of being in a room with Kent's family during gift opening. There's not one thing I enjoyed about that. I have lived through about 21 of those in the past 23 years. They suck! But, I know Kent missed it. Not the noise and all that, but the togetherness. 

For him, his grief includes the loss of his family as he has always known it to be. Last year, his family somewhat pulled their stuff together and it wasn't a total loss. This was the first year that his family literally had no family Christmas of any kind. The first time in over 50 years. That's sad and hard. It isn't likely to ever happen again either. His grief wasn't as much about not being there, but for what will never be again.

We both had an overwhelming sense of aloneness this Christmas. It has been this way for me, but felt heavier this year as we both walked this path. This was the first year EVER for both of us to spend both Thanksgiving and Christmas completely alone, with each other. We have always spent at least a portion of one of the holidays with his family and/or friends and/or both. I had to stay off social media that day. It was too hard to see everyone hopping from celebration to another and no that we were alone. 

There was a part of this that was infuriating more than painful. We spent a lot of time buying, shipping, etc. gifts for his family. His dad thanked us, but nobody else. I don't even care that they don't put that kind of effort into sending gifts to us, but good grief at least acknowledge that you received the gift. I think we are officially done buying Christmas and birthday gifts for all family and will likely ask that nobody send us anything in the future. I'm over this off and on kind of thing and value time over gifts. I would rather spend one good day with family than deal with the frustration surrounding gifts.

I mentioned in a previous post that I was feeling grief over my grandparents this year. That was certainly true for Christmas day. It was so much easier to recall all the good times. I had memories of times with them that I probably had not remembered in over 20 years. Of course there was a fair amount of grief over that. I didn't let it ruin my day or holidays, but it was a sadness unlike any I've felt. 

Of course no holiday would be complete without feeling that loss of family. That gets easier each year, but is there. 

I would not have traded this Christmas for any in the past. It was truly the best. My hope is that they only get better as these things improve over the years. 

Post Christmas 1 of 2

Oxymoron. Maybe our Christmas was an oxymoron. 

Our Christmas this year might have been one of the more difficult, but best we've had in a long while. 

We had originally planned to go to Tennessee for Christmas to avoid the tough times. In fact, we had reservations for about three weeks. After the forecast called for five straight days of rain there, we canceled the Monday before Christmas. Of course, as the day arrived, Tennessee had perfect weather with just a momentary rain on Christmas Eve.

However, the change was the best thing we could have done. 

Our weather was really iffy, cold but not sure if we would have snow. The day before Christmas Eve, it looked more and more like we might have a dusting to have a White Christmas. It was cold and snowed, but never amounted to much leading up to the holiday weekend. 

On Christmas Eve, we got up and headed to a church we had visited the week prior. It turned out to be a beautiful service that honored the birth of our Savior. Even though it was 10 am, we had a beautiful candlelight service. We drove in a brief snow shower on the way to church and the morning was perfect. 

After church, we headed to Dayton to do last minute shopping. That means, my husband did last minute Christmas shopping while the dogs and I hung out in the car and watched people act erratically. We got home in time to watch some football and Christmas Vacation. It did start snowing that afternoon/evening.

We woke up to a cold morning with about 4" of snow, a white Christmas indeed. I tried to surprise my husband with bubble bread like his mom made, but failed miserably since I was missing a key ingredient. 

We swapped gifts and gave the dogs treats out of their stocking. We changed things up a little this year with the loss of our Lucy. We decided to go down to one dog stocking and one each for us. The dogs' was a dog that shook it's ears and sang Christmas music. Remi loved it!

The dogs napped with full bellies and my husband watched tv while I started on lunch. 

I fixed a prime rib for the first time. I was a little nervous. Such an expensive cut of meat and one shot to make it right. It turned out great. I made mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, green beans, cranberry sauce and we had a cake from the local grocery store. Since the oven would be occupied by the prime rib, I decided to bail on baking a dessert. Lunch was wonderful. It was certainly better than our Golden Coral Thanksgiving lunch. 

There were naps and tv. It was an incredibly peaceful day, so relaxing. Kent talked to his dad and sister that night and we got two texts from friends. 

The day was everything I could have wanted it to be. We had a beautiful snow fall and everything we needed or wanted. 

Kent was off for four days at Christmas and four days at New Years. It was nice to have so much time with him. We also got a lot done, like getting drivers licenses and car tags transferred. It was a huge relief to get all that done before the close of the year.