Sobering Up, Growing Up, Leveling Up

I confess that I have done what most people do and spent time "numbing" the bad stuff. As a child of addiction I have never taken western medicine that wasn't prescribed, and if I've ever done so in excess, it messes with me hard core. I have loved wine for a long time, and never shy away from a good cocktail, and I'm usually one to try craft beers.

Who doesn't like a little buzz, right? For me it has always been the social aspect and the gathering routine. This weekend I didn't even drink in excess, but let me tell you, I'm kind of feeling a break up pending with alcohol. 

I'm about 90% sure I'm not an alcoholic, but I understand the inclination. I have had drinks to get drunk, I have had excessive amounts of drinks and I have had drama, fights and bad choice made under the influence. I'm not one for hangovers, to me they are a waste of a day, but I've had many and they are totally not worth it.

Funny how much is weighed in worth as you grow up. If something is worth your time, stress, effort and money even. To me, nothing is worth compromising my sleep. And guess what? I'm at that age where alcohol messes with my sleep too much. So it might be time to kick it out.

We haven't kept alcohol in our home for about 9 months or so. For me, it doesn't occur to me to make an extra trip to get it, or that it would be necessary to keep, so I don't really want it, if I don't have it around. If you give me a bottle of wine as a gift though, it's right out on the counter ready to be had with dinner.

Sobriety is a huge, huge thing in my world right now and I'm realizing just how much alcohol plays a regular part in most of aspects life, like it or not. Up until now I would drink in purely social situations and mostly on a night out with friends, but this weekend I had fun, and I just felt sleepy and down a peg the day after and I just feel like it was a total waste of energy after all is said and done.

This isn't some diatribe about quitting drinking forever and working the steps, but the "partying" aspect is officially off the table. I love socializing with food and wine or cocktails. I really do. On a "crazy" night, I'll have about 3 drinks in the span of 4 to 5 hours with lots and lots of water and definitely with food. That's as far as I go, if that, depending on the evening. However, the lagging sleepy feeling and the "faux" rest that I get post-indulgence is a huge a turn off.

If anything gets in my way of being productive and getting a good night's rest, it's out. My daughter often wants to sleep with me, but kicks the crap out of me, so her invading my space is only on a special occasion. If my husband snores too much, I hit the couch or make him sleep in the guest bedroom. If the dog won't settle down, I kick him out too. Zero tolerance.

I've closely reflected on what alcohol does to me, and others close to me, and especially with sober eyes, it's kind of intense. We all love a drunken adventure or drunken story. We all love a good laugh at the expense of a drunken idiot, right? Alcohol is always glamorized and romanticized. It's legal, easy to get and something all the cool kids do, right?

Well, I've grown into the realization that not only are all of those assumptions wrong, they are complete and utter bullshit. I've watched alcohol tear people down and completely apart. I've watched it destroy bodies, minds and lives. I've also watched people sober up, triumph and appreciate life more, without numbing agents.

Part of what I love about Dax Shepard's podcast, ArmChair Expert, is how much he talks about his addiction, his sobriety and his journey. It's so amazing and empowering to hear. So much of it is enlightening to my walk, my path, and my current journey, especially in my family.

I've had deep, important conversations with my best friends and immediate family about when the party "stops," so to speak. At a certain age, the drunk thing isn't really cute. It's kind of just humiliating. And as I've written about recently in excess, I'm not one who enjoys or endures humiliation well.

I woke up again feeling bloated and flabby, and dragged myself to the gym to sweat out the weekend. My leggings are not friendly today and I really want to order a burlap sack to rock the rest of the week and crawl into bed for a 6 hour nap. I realized that, I like the ritual of the alcohol more than I like the actual alcohol, and I think this "sobering thought" could take me to new places.

I have spent many years very closely watching myself, because when you grow up with an addict it's like a free lesson of "I don't want to ever do that and I never will." But most recently, I've looked back at some dark times and wished I'd treated myself and my world better. 

Not only do I want to get more into shape, but I mentally want to keep kicking ass because as I posted on my Instagram this morning, you start to heal the moment you feel heard. I finally feel heard, and feel seen and I'm done being afraid of either. I'm open-armed and very awake, even when I'm tired.

I just realized that for me, I'm a person who can enjoy a champagne toast or celebratory beer or glass of wine, but that's where it ends. More and more, if my sleep gets off it's rhythm, I'm unhinged and I need rest to be a nice, considerate, not horrible person. I don't need to drink weekly or monthly or for any real occasion. I actually don't need to drink at all. I'm just a person who isn't meant for party life. I've always failed at my attempts to be that girl.

I've pushed through, I've acted foolishly, I've sacrificed my health and well being to be that party person but "It Ain't Me, Babe." And what's more? I'm totally OKAY with that not being me. Don't get me wrong, if you have a new beer that is a must try, I will partake. If you buy a $1,000.00 bottle of wine, I wanna try that because what does $1,000.00 wine even taste like!? Although, I'd much rather have wonderful food. At the end of the day, the cake won't give me the hangover but the 4 mimosas will. Boundaries. Balance.

So, sobering up sounds like the best thing ever and I hate that it gets a bad wrap, especially when it comes to drug usage. Growing up has it's sucky moments but I happen to like that I'm coming to these conclusions and staying awake. Leveling up in life should be just as exhilarating as it was in Mario. Yes, more Mario references, get used to it.

I've made huge mistakes. I'm human. I've made horrible choices. I'm still human. I've partied hard and suffered the consequences, which sometimes was the hangover alone, other times just drunk-induced conflict and so on. Yup, still human. The other day a co-worker was audibly listening to sermons on her computer with her speakers on loud. I put in my headphones to drown it out. I dislike being preached "at." Everyone has a right to their beliefs and inviting others to hear about them is great; I dislike it being thrust upon me without a choice. Regardless, the snippet I heard was horrifying. This guy was talking about your sins being spiritual debt you can't really pay back. Like you can't repay the debt of your sins, and we carry around spiritual debt like we do credit card debt and school loans. That was a bad and disturbing analogy to me.

I think we most certainly can repay and repair our debts with growing up and leveling up, in all aspects of life. Every day is a new chance. Not everyone needs sobriety, and I don't judge. I mean Jesus did turn water into wine, so yeah -- that was a sarcastic joke by the way. I think we do our very best in our circumstances and at OUR OWN INDIVIDUAL PACE. I don't think it's fair to make sin out to be a form of "debt." I think we all just need to find our growth and our levels when we can, and keep kicking ass and taking names in all the small victories. Because, after all, we are all human...except Mario. 

My Attempt At Being The Cool Fun Mom On Mother's Day Failed Wonderfully, But What A Learning Experience

What was my post about yesterday? Oh how I'm super anxious, overly sensitive and really need clear boundaries? Enter good intentions gone to shit, excuse my french.

So, Mother's Day, when you're married to a man who essentially runs or manages a restaurant, is the worst. Not only does he always work, but if he didn't, he wouldn't dare take you out anywhere, because he knows it will be packed and quality will go down more often than not. I'm okay with staying in, and this morning I had a gorgeous start to my day. I should have expected anything but smooth sailing, in retrospect.

So, I had to take my daughter to get a hair cut. Super easy. She did great. And the bribery? We were going to pet puppies. We've been talking about puppies a lot. About a month ago on a distant mom friend's Instagram feed I saw her take her children, 6 and 8 or 9 I think, to pet puppies at PetLand two towns south of us. We used to work right next to a PetLand in Lutz and my husband and I would play with the puppies and argue about how expensive they were.

So, I have zero intention of buying a puppy, but I just wanted some puppy cuddles. We go straight for the golden retriever. Immediately my daughter gets overwhelmed by the puppy jumping, nipping and being all over. The puppy pees and poops in the little area and my daughter stands on the little bench to get someone's attention and we just hang in the stench a few minutes. They ask me to stand back and hold the puppy.

Here is the most important thing. They give us no information about the puppy except it's a girl. They give us no guidelines about anything. They don't check on us. And finally we get out of the pooped and peed confined space. My daughter asks if we can have another puppy. She picks one that looks like a small Dachshund-chihuahua looking thing. 

We get put in another pen with a bench, maybe an inch higher than a couch in it, and off we go. My daughter likes this one and we play on the floor for a good 10 minutes. I have to ask what kind of dog this is and hear it's some kind of small grayhound? I'm still unsure. So my daughter asks if she can sit on the bench with the puppy after the puppy pees in the corner and leaves a mess so she doesn't get pee on her. 

The puppy squirms from my daughter sitting, jumps off the bench, but slips on the slippery concrete and bonks it's butt on the door. It then sits up, starts yelping at us and whimpering. I didn't know if it was a bark. Immediately out of nowhere a female employee comes over and yells at us "What happened!?" She started the puppy and it moves slowly around. She said, "Why is it limping?!, in a very mean tone?" I said, "I don't know, it jumped from the bench." She immediately gave my daughter the stink eye and said "You're not supposed to have the dogs on the bench. We have to take him to the kennel now to make sure he can walk!" My daughter burst into tears because the puppy was taken away.

I was completely mortified. The puppy was just being a puppy. Puppies jump. They jump off of high places. They slip, they trip, they bonk. Our pug got his paw stuck in a bench and yelped murder once. A friend of ours had a chihuahua mix break it's leg and have it in a cast. Puppies are just puppies. I dragged my child out of the store crying.

I had my whole range of anxious emotions. First, I was worried about the puppy and felt like some shamed animal abuser. I don't even spank my kid when she deserves it. Then I was angry someone made my kid cry. Then I sighed and was like, "Maybe that woman is having a really bad day. After all, she cleans up animal piss and feces all day. Then I calmed my child. Her first reaction was being disappointed that they took the puppy, then that we couldn't see any more puppies.

I wasn't trying to see any puppies after that lady made me feel so horrible, trust me. And the guy "helping us," was like "Have a nice day," and didn't seem to care at all about the situation so yeah. I had a moment of feeling like, wow this is a horrible place. But then I made another questionable decision, which was to hit another puppy store down the road.

This one was even sadder, and it smelled bad. We found one cute beagle mix that was calm. My daughter said, "I just want like a calm puppy mom." I told her that doesn't exist.

It was the official departure from all things puppy we had a talk in the car. I asked my daughter, "Honey you're not upset because you somehow think you hurt that puppy, are you?" She quickly snapped back, "I didn't hurt that puppy mom." I said, "No, baby you did not. That puppy got hurt being a puppy." We talked more.

I said, "How often does Brodie fall and bonk? He jumped off your loft bed! Remember Jaxie had to be careful when Aunt Stacey came to visit because Jaxie just got her cast off? Brodie limped when he had a weird growth on his foot. Puppies are puppies! I'm so sorry that woman made you feel badly."

She's doing a bit better now, and boy what a learning experience. Not only am I convinced that having a puppy is not for us right now, but certainly not from one of those places. It's sad but true. Maybe when the Humane Society is open we'll go love on some dogs.

Besides the off kilter teaching experience it's been a good day. We are now relaxing before early dinner with Grandma but I had to share the crazy mania.  

Miscommunication, Frustration, Humiliation

Last night was girls night. And I needed a good night out. But it ended messily. Without over-pouring the entire scenario, I can say this, my attempts to do something nice and something that I thought was communicated to me well, fell flat, and before I knew it, it got really awkward and uncomfortable.

I'm a person who just needs to know the rules, ramifications and outline of things clearly and then I can be insanely respectful and understanding. If you don't communicate and I fall into a weird situation, things can get bad and fast.

One of my mom friends stood up for me but I had a rough time and felt attacked because, while she made a good point, I shared mislead information and I felt so horribly humiliated it all went awry. So, I wanted to suck it up and make it up to them.

My friend sweetly said it wasn't necessary, but I was so embarrassed I just wanted to cover it up. I felt like a child who asked their parents if they could have ice cream, and the parent said, "Sure, whatever," only half paying attention. Then the parents caught me eating the ice cream and sharing it at a party and were like, uh...what are you doing? Then I spilled it, broke the bowls and had to clean it up and pay for the bowls, not letting my friends know we weren't supposed to have it in the first place.

That's the best, weird analogy I can come up with to best describe the debacle. The thing is, at the end of the day I was frenzied, broken and frustrated. Today was a new day, most definitely and I refused to obsessed. I did however, enlist hubby in the discussion.

Much to my relief he was all in and understood. I just told him that, it was really hard for me. The way the whole thing went down was so strange and I just wish that the structure was clearly laid out for me. You can give me parameters, but not vague rules. Clear. Simple. Easy.

I spent most of the morning reeling and finally kicked it once we hit the beach. My daughter and I are both exhausted but beach therapy is real. I mean the fact that we live where some people vacation is such a blessing and I told my daughter, "I know you want to see the snow, but look at that gorgeous water." We had a few meltdowns by the end of the beach trip, but we came home grateful, which is what it's all about.

I struggle so much with miscommunication. It irks me to no end. Frustration is a daily visitor I feel and navigating it is rough. Humiliation is something I don't take lightly. It makes me super angry, and over-sensitive. I'm getting better at dealing with all of this, but it's such a process and last night was such a lesson in what I want, what I can handle, and how far I've come.

Weekend posts are difficult for me, but I was really feeling all of this so I wanted to share. Tomorrow I may do something smaller as it's Mother's Day and I'd love to just relax a bit, but who knows. Happy Weekend readers and thanks for sticking with me!

I Send My Dad A Mother's Day Card Every Year...And Here's Why

I stopped hiding my insanely broken and messed up relationship with my mom a few years ago after I survived living with her for a year. If I had to say anything, and keep it simple about my relationship with her, I'd Facebook cliche it and stamp it, "it's complicated."

My mom wasn't much of a "mom." Mostly I call her by her given name and not "mom." When I was acting a fool when she lived with me, going through some of the most rough years of my life job-wise, marriage wise and in motherhood, the one moment I asked her to have my back, she said no. And that's when I stopped pretending that we were anything besides biologically related, and realized she was just my child's grandma. In turn, I think I've done better since.

My mom was never a comforting force. She was an erratic, hyper ball of fun and dysfunction. She bought me all the crap I wanted until one day, it all disappeared. She was gone for awhile when I was 12. She came back, things got ugly again and then she left until I was 16. By the time I turned 16 she had carved out a decent environment for me to join her in, and I wanted to try the whole having a mom thing again. It failed in exactly 365 days.

My dad had to be both parents a lot. He physically drove from Oregon to Florida to get me to take me back to Oregon to finish high school and live there. He was the parent that was ALWAYS there. So I send him a Mother's Day card every year.

I still acknowledge my mom, but mostly as a Grandma. If I truly laid out the honest horror of my childhood with her, not only would I ruin my ideas for a book, but I'm pretty sure she'd lose her mind and probably slip into dementia to avoid dealing with all the mental massacre. She side-talks and references the damage sarcastically. We've never had a face off; and never will.

When she was living with me at age 32, I reverted right back to exactly 16 years prior at  age 16 of acting out against her and even my husband because things were completely in disarray. Not my finest hour, or year if you will. My dad told me she used to call and email him complaining about me. What did my dad do in my time of turmoil? Pay my therapy bills like when I was 13, all over again.

My dad was the parent who rubbed my tummy and back when I was uncomfortable, held my hair back over the toilet when I was sick and puking with the flu. My dad was the one who made sure I ate three square meals and didn't inhale junk food. My dad was the parent buying Midol, tampons and pads when I needed them. My dad was the one who reached out to my aunt to help me when I needed my first bra. My dad was the one I cried with at movies and when my mom wasn't around.

My mom has admitted she was a mom until I was about 5 or 6 and then mentally checked out until her physical departure in my older years. I don't think I'd ever just blanket statement claim she was a "shit mom." I just think that she wasn't much of a mom in totality.

My mom and I have gone through good phases, but it wasn't until a decade ago that I had to be her rock bottom in more ways than one. After two years of healing and 3 years of growing up in life and in my marriage, when I became pregnant I had to level with myself, "Okay, so your mom wasn't great to you, but you don't get to take her away from your kid. It's up to her whether she wants to be a Grandmother to her grandchild, and as the child ages, up to her what relationship she has with her Grandma." This was a huge step for me.

My mom has been a good Grandma, so we mostly celebrate Mother's Day that way. But I send my dad a Mother's Day card every year. I call my dad on Mother's Day every year.

My dad was just more of a mom. My dad has been my rock, my sounding board and my reliable parent. He officiated my wedding, he was at the birth of my only child and never missed an important milestone in my life. The same just can't be said for my mom, and I've accepted that.

My dad taught me to sew. My dad helped me set up my first bank account and showed me how to write checks and use credit cards. My dad put me through college. My dad bought my wedding dress and helped me pick it out. My dad always encouraged me in times I needed therapy and was struggling. He's the best Mom and Dad ever and will always be celebrated.

As far as stuff with my mom, we just kind of float on. She drives me nuts but at least she's around. Sometimes I wish she wanted to be more of my mom, but as a mother myself, I can at least now see why it wasn't for her, and it makes me feel grateful I pushed past any genetic dispositions to point me in a direction otherwise.

The times I have been the most selfish in my marriage and my parenthood have mirrored much of my childhood, but I refuse to let that dictate the growth of my daughter. I will be her reliable parent like my dad was for me, no matter what. Her dad seems to be on the right track too so she'll be doubly strong!

My mom has the Grandma spoiling thing down. I hear her and my daughter fight just like she did with me. She often mistakenly calls my daughter by my name. And I'm glad she wants to be a good Grandma, because my daughter deserves that. With the upcoming holiday I wish everyone a great Mother's Day weekend, no matter what baggage you're carrying with you around it. 

I encourage everyone to be sensitive, maybe even overly so. This holiday is rough on many people for many, many reasons and needs to be respected and understood for it's complicated triggers. There are many different kinds of moms and this day is just about celebrating them in appreciation of all they do or have done. So enjoy the weekend, self care if and when you need to, and embrace it however you need. Maybe you have a step-mom you celebrate more, maybe you have mom friends you cherish or maybe you too send your dad a mother's day card! Maybe you have a legit mom that moms like a boss and will celebrate with you! Just have a happy, calm Mother's Day!

Weight A Minute

Weight stuff sucks. I just text my husband a "feeling fat" reference and he told me that your body fluctuates up to 3 to 5 pounds difference a day and not to feel discouraged. My shorts are telling me something else, I feel.

I gave up "diets" forever ago and I found that everything in moderation works best. I can be super extreme about diets. When I was on Weight Watchers a decade ago, I used to eat like 4 servings of low fat soup, and save all of my calories and cheat points for liquid calories or an order like this one:

I can also just not eat. It's like a medieval challenge for me to starve. This is not the correct approach, I found. I also hate the idea of missing out on food, or fun because of dieting.

For years I worked in close proximity to what I call "Food Shamers." You were damned if you do, damned if you don't. You were highly praised for losing weight when noticed, and side comments were always made. It was not a happy environment. If you were given "free lunch" you would feel guilted into eating but then shamed for eating Pizza, Chik-Fil-A or whatever, later. It was maddening.

It was after that I realized I wanted to eat and do whatever. That also backfired. Calories suck. It is now, with many workouts, endless therapy, age and my thyroid working against me, that it's all about moderation, all the time.

So this morning I put on my shorts that I haven't worn since...October maybe? In October I was still going to spin and boot camp. I had just toned up like a boss and was gradually getting out of obsessive workout mode and into mental health matters. The shorts were a little tight. Frustrating.

I refuse to watch the Marie Kondo thing on Netflix but I get the whole "not sparking joy" thing to the point where I purged my whole closet. Any pants that made me feel fat or less than, have moved on. And also some pairs of shorts. I refuse to feel "badly" about myself in what I'm wearing.

So I talked myself down, "Okay, you haven't negatively changed your diet. You are still transitioning from Boot Camp to kickboxing which is just a whole new routine for your body to adjust to. You also just got the diagnosis that you have an underactive thyroid working against you. You don't LOOK unhealthy. You're good girl."

I text some friends for moral support. I did the mirror check at work. Then I listened to my Dax Shepard podcast and he said how important physical activity is, not for vanity, but for mental health and my self esteem perked right back up, why?

I'm in a way healthier mental space now, then I was consumed with double workouts, hating to run and feeling lack luster about routines. So what if my pants disagree. This is just affirmation of why I adore leggings more. 

I consider myself a body positive person, but also get a little worried when it comes to those heavier people that are technically and medically unhealthy. Be curvy, gorgeous women, but also be healthy. You can embrace your size but don't eat McDonald's 5 times a week. The health standards and balanced diets exist for a reason. You don't have to technically fit in, but also don't risk unnecessary health problems and shorter life span just because you want to not care about what you can eat.

By technical standards, I have never fit the "ideal weight" for my height and even at my most fit, and most skinny, I didn't fit into them, but my BMI was healthy, and had no health concerns. Sure, my thyroid is being a ridiculous challenge that has me fearing western medicine, but I work out 30 minutes a day 5 to 6 days a week, sometimes longer. I don't eat junk routinely and drink maybe one night a week or one night every few weeks, if that. I'm still curvy and not a size 0. Everyone is different.

I think we all struggle with our weight, whether or not we want to admit it, but we just need to "weight a minute." Life happens, some days you need two cupcakes, some days you don't. Food is amazing and I've never regret eating anything...anything that didn't give me food poisoning that is.

I love trying new things, desserts, and having great wine with it all. I'm willing to work for that, no questions asked. I realized very young that I cannot sit around and eat what I want. However, if I work out or participate in athletic activities I can care less about what I'm eating and just work on moderation. One cupcake, not four.

We will all have bad days, bloated and frumpy days, and days we think we're Beyonce. Just saying. 

My encouragement and pep talk is, do what works for you and makes you happy for your health level. Just "weight a minute" the next time you get a case of the "feeling yucky body moments" and think about your health. If you're doing what you can, and not pushing too many boundaries for your metabolism and such, you're doing awesome. Maybe there are other ways to improve upon? Aren't there always? 

Stay strong readers and just "weight a minute," because we all have those days when we just feel so, "bleh." But remember, you are Beyonce, always!

I Inadvertently Messed Up My New Routine, With Negative Results

I have been avidly podcasting for almost a month, with good results. It's easy for me to listen at work, especially as something I can pick up and put down at will. However, I got derailed from the norm and missed a few days of listening, and now feel like Andy in Parks and Rec, as shown above.

Ironically I have been re-watching Parks and Rec. I'll just blame that for now.

Yesterday I was just so tired. I didn't sleep well Monday night and I'm embracing this detoured path, pouring support into my husband's new job position and attempting to keep up my house, all while trying not be the worst mom ever.

Monday night I felt so accomplished. I got the kiddo and myself fed for dinner, walked the dog, ran the dishwasher and vacuum, and even steam cleaned the living room, dining room and kitchen! All on a Monday night! Go me!

Last night I was fighting a migraine and it won. I put on a 90 minute movie for myself, inhaled a huge salad, let my daughter watch Barbie on Hulu and was in bed with my child at 8:30PM. We read a super short book and I accomplished nothing but an early bed time. Not my finest Tuesday.

I realized this morning that, yes I needed the rest, but tonight I have a bunch more stuff to do and dinner by Netflix isn't conducive, so I need to pull it together.

I haven't been reading as much as I need to. I need to snap that back into gear tonight too, as the results of that little nightly routine were so very helpful to my day to day. The negative results I see and feel from any form of laziness, just aren't worth it. 

So I'm getting over this hump day by planning to conquer it on all levels. My workout game hasn't been deterred much but I need to bring it all on the home front to combat just how crazy my husband's schedule will be for the next few weeks.

I'm grateful for a lot right now. I'm pushing myself to stay positive. The strides I have made, I've given myself a pat on the back for, and I'm not letting things get in my way. I'm still Pinterest-ing like a boss in my free time as well, which I find helpful when I need some good quotes and perspectives. 

I've realized that I spent so many years doing everything that now that I've delegated some things, and have to return to me doing everything, if only for a short period of time but still, it's overwhelming. Ironically there are some people I wish I could share the mania with, but I know wouldn't be a helpful supportive ear, but instead would let me go back to lame coping mechanisms instead of willing me to conquer. It's only now that I can admit that and am awake to it.

I find myself wishing happiness for others a lot more, especially those people who've fallen off my grid. I find myself thinking of others' struggles rather than my own as I'm getting used to more peace and less chaos.

My husband said something about the general attitude of things being more positive when you take away a negative ruling force, which we both have had quick changes on. You get used to staying in murky waters when it's all you feel you have to navigate within. It's funny how when you have your way cleared, you can see more, shine brighter and dare I say, even thrive. 

It's like the Mario cloud. I recently used this analogy with one of my best friends:

                   

We all remember that little dude, who throws things at you when you're just trying to level up? My goodness the metaphors! I might go on a tangent. You been warned!

How well could you do with that little cloud following you and thwarting you, right? You had to outrun and outsmart it, while getting as many points as you could in between. Then you had figure out how to get on top of him and squash him! He was not welcome! 

When you have a person, a place, or things that loom over you like the little Mario cloud dude, how well can you do? How much can you progress? This speaks on levels, pun intended.

Sometimes you don't even realize it either. The clouds just appear and you're not too upset about the gray, maybe you think it's not that bad or you can still stay positive. You gotta be fully in the sunshine before you realize the gray isn't what's good for ya!

We're coming up on 10 years of life in Florida and when I get a hard time from the family about moving away from the great state of Oregon I reiterate that I just wasn't made for that much gray and rain. I also have come to deeply loathe the cold. I was made for the sunshine state. Don't get me wrong, as a ginger I burn quickly in that gorgeous sunlight, but I thrive here!

I didn't realize how depressed I was and how seasonally and regularly in Oregon, until I lived here in the sunshine and was like "Wow, I'd really have to commit to being completely sad because even the storms pass in 20 minutes." It's too bright to be sad, in my opinion. In Eugene, it is gray like 9 months out of the year I swear. And that is some cold, cold rain. I love to visit Oregon in the summer, more than anything, but I'm good in Florida the rest of the time.

These realizations have been hitting me a lot lately. Wait, is that what the cool kids refer to as "Woke?" Damn, ANOTHER realization! What a wisdomous Wednesday. 

Anyway, I'm crazy grateful for being woke right now haha! That feels so weird and wrong to type. I don't think I can actually pull that off.

I'm just happy that I saw the negative throwing me off, and now am taking things back. It's not easy. It will take day to day determination, but here I come. I'm channeling some season 3 of The Office Pam vibes! Watch out world!