This weekend was pure bliss with just an overnight away that made all the difference. The big thing for me this year, just 3 years after the car accident, this was the first year I didn't wear that trauma as an accessory all day.
Being away gave me time to think. One overnight away with no distractions, just us, just our needs, not those of the tiny dictator, was a completely awakening experience, and long overdue. We managed to go back to basics, if you will. We didn't even turn on the TV.
With all that time and freedom, and too many mirrors in the place we were staying, it did make me a little too introspective and self-judgmental so this morning I really tried to recharge on staying body positive and productive.
I had to get a little real with myself this weekend and sometimes those moments suck. about 12 years ago I got really real about my diet and exercise. I was on weight watchers and I was working out sometimes twice a day, but doing spin, weights, running and yoga.
Weight watchers put a LOT into perspective, especially as a 20 something who had alcohol as just part of the lifestyle. Once you can drink, you drink and go out non-stop, or so my friends and I did. Alcohol is quick calories.
A lot of the weight watchers tools, I still use but with parenthood and full time working, I also don't have that much time to eat, regardless. I've had to become more mindful with eating, especially over the last two years and it's not quiet a diet but just paying attention.
So here is what I know: I'll never ever not eat carbs, but limiting them is no problem. I keep bread away from it becoming a snack, yup I'm that person. I need fruit to help keep a balanced diet because I suck at eating fruit. Veggies are my life blood. The worst thing I do is make a huge salad with spinach, carrots, tomatoes, croutons, sometimes a form of protein, and cheese and cover it in home-made oil and vinegar spice dressing. That is my favorite ever, my default, and my biggest pig out.
I don't order pizza anymore. My husband makes epic homemade pizza and that I love. I also love tacos. Salad and pasta are my at home go to if my husband hasn't make some kind of chicken, veggie rice thing. We almost never eat out.
I love pretzels but am mindful not to keep them around. My other huge cheat snack and vice is oil-popped popcorn. The worst thing I indulge in is dessert because my kid is into it. I try really really hard to buy dessert that I don't like that she does, and just drink all the tea before bed so I don't snack.
What's sad is I don't even eat that much, and yet I'm having such a rough time with my body image. It didn't help that part of my blissful weekend landed us at the outlet mall and I tried on my first pair of gap jeans in a long time, in both of my "normal" sizes and it got defeating, fast.
I found this workout quote and mantra of "workout because you love your body not because you hate it," and I'm carrying that close with me. I don't hate my body, but right now, it feels like I have to work awfully hard to stay comfy and I dislike that. I'm very much working on my patience for my body getting used to new routines but this weekend was rough.
We ate an amazing feast. I rarely go all in and indulge. We had appetizers, salad, main course, dessert, cappuccino, and it was just amazing. I haven't had a dinner like that in years. We ate like things. I didn't feel bad for being a foodie and enjoying life, but I struggle because I bloat and was carrying a lot of swollen water weight that day.
This is a brand new week, and I'm hatching some methods to the madness and getting ready to get back to routines and to even make some new ones.
I'm so grateful for the time that was shared this weekend and the conversations and quality time, but I'm definitely feeling incredibly introspective and awake right now. I'm thinking of some new subjects to blog about and welcome any ideas. Happy Monday readers! Thanks for the weekend away!
Monday, June 17, 2019
Friday, June 14, 2019
The Big Ten
On June 14th, 2009 my husband and I were married in Oregon. Yup, we lasted a decade and hit the big ten everyone. Pop the champagne!
Since we had the baby, anniversary stuff has been extremely low key but for 10 years we decided we needed to do it up. Actually this happened only about two months ago that we agreed to make it a weekend worthy of time away.
My husband and I recently reflected on where we've been the last 10 years and I don't mean that geographically. To put it lightly, we've been through some shit. Most of you might say, "Ah, yeah the car accident and everything." Nah, that's only wading ankle deep in the shit.
Ironically we started uncovering the layers of what's been happening with friends and family and have gotten mostly warm, understanding and concerned support and reminders that we have people around us that love us. One particular response, however, is so painfully ironic that I just keep replaying it in my mind and to sum up, the response to our big ten was a reminder that it likely won't get much easier.
Some of you will laugh and scoff saying that's not exactly supportive of how far we've come. For those of you that know me quite well, you can understand my interest in just how ridiculous it all is. If you want me to put it politely, things have been generally okay. If you want the raw truth, the past 5 years have been the toughest we've ever been through, nearly leaving us completely broken and irreparable. However, we've been working our asses off not to get to the low point, or close, again.
We've overcome a lot of personal battles, spousal battles, and parenthood battles, all of which have made us even stronger, but were challenging, hurtful and sometimes unfair, nonetheless. So, this weekend isn't about reaching some random number. It's about look at what we've done the last 10 years only to this year, yes 2019, be the closest we've been since our wedding day, to landing on our feet.
Don't get me wrong, our wedding wasn't perfect or flawless. The best man forgot the groom's suit and didn't realize it until 40 minutes before the ceremony was set to start. One of my bridesmaids had to make people completely re-do the table set up. One of our friends showed up like 3 hours late. It was a pretty normal wedding actually, but it was OUR day.
We've gone to some pretty fancy weddings, and we always admire their ability to plan so far ahead and have such amazing detail. I just wanted a day to celebrate with the people I loved, and to look skinny in a great wedding dress. Goal reached. Oh and a cake from my favorite, legendary Eugene Oregon bakery. Also, goal reached.
No one tells you that no marriage is easy. No one tells you that getting help is always a good thing. No one tells you you'll go through periods where you don't even like your spouse. You just love them because they are yours, but you don't have to like them sometimes.
No one tells you that you can grow into adulthood separately to the point where it can create a rift. No one tells you how much parenthood changes your entire marriage. No one talks about financial issues making you go to bed angry and not speak for days. No one tells you about any of the shit, just the cupcakes and rainbows.
It's as if we have to lift the veil and share our wounds before anyone else comes out with their marriage woes. It's like in Wizard of Oz when they drop the house on the wicked witch but you have to coax out the munchkins like, what am I walking into?
I honestly have no expectations that things will be easy. I am cautiously optimistic that we've gotten through some rough waters and have some slightly sunnier weather ahead. I'm sure we will continue to work on things and grow and communicate so we actually like each other. For me personally, the love part is easy, but always liking the person you've married, especially when they are being quite un-like-able, is the hardest.
In true form, the last few months in healing I have quoted Parks and Rec over and over, with some serious Ben and Leslie goals:
Since we had the baby, anniversary stuff has been extremely low key but for 10 years we decided we needed to do it up. Actually this happened only about two months ago that we agreed to make it a weekend worthy of time away.
My husband and I recently reflected on where we've been the last 10 years and I don't mean that geographically. To put it lightly, we've been through some shit. Most of you might say, "Ah, yeah the car accident and everything." Nah, that's only wading ankle deep in the shit.
Ironically we started uncovering the layers of what's been happening with friends and family and have gotten mostly warm, understanding and concerned support and reminders that we have people around us that love us. One particular response, however, is so painfully ironic that I just keep replaying it in my mind and to sum up, the response to our big ten was a reminder that it likely won't get much easier.
Some of you will laugh and scoff saying that's not exactly supportive of how far we've come. For those of you that know me quite well, you can understand my interest in just how ridiculous it all is. If you want me to put it politely, things have been generally okay. If you want the raw truth, the past 5 years have been the toughest we've ever been through, nearly leaving us completely broken and irreparable. However, we've been working our asses off not to get to the low point, or close, again.
We've overcome a lot of personal battles, spousal battles, and parenthood battles, all of which have made us even stronger, but were challenging, hurtful and sometimes unfair, nonetheless. So, this weekend isn't about reaching some random number. It's about look at what we've done the last 10 years only to this year, yes 2019, be the closest we've been since our wedding day, to landing on our feet.
Don't get me wrong, our wedding wasn't perfect or flawless. The best man forgot the groom's suit and didn't realize it until 40 minutes before the ceremony was set to start. One of my bridesmaids had to make people completely re-do the table set up. One of our friends showed up like 3 hours late. It was a pretty normal wedding actually, but it was OUR day.
We've gone to some pretty fancy weddings, and we always admire their ability to plan so far ahead and have such amazing detail. I just wanted a day to celebrate with the people I loved, and to look skinny in a great wedding dress. Goal reached. Oh and a cake from my favorite, legendary Eugene Oregon bakery. Also, goal reached.
No one tells you that no marriage is easy. No one tells you that getting help is always a good thing. No one tells you you'll go through periods where you don't even like your spouse. You just love them because they are yours, but you don't have to like them sometimes.
No one tells you that you can grow into adulthood separately to the point where it can create a rift. No one tells you how much parenthood changes your entire marriage. No one talks about financial issues making you go to bed angry and not speak for days. No one tells you about any of the shit, just the cupcakes and rainbows.
It's as if we have to lift the veil and share our wounds before anyone else comes out with their marriage woes. It's like in Wizard of Oz when they drop the house on the wicked witch but you have to coax out the munchkins like, what am I walking into?
I honestly have no expectations that things will be easy. I am cautiously optimistic that we've gotten through some rough waters and have some slightly sunnier weather ahead. I'm sure we will continue to work on things and grow and communicate so we actually like each other. For me personally, the love part is easy, but always liking the person you've married, especially when they are being quite un-like-able, is the hardest.
In true form, the last few months in healing I have quoted Parks and Rec over and over, with some serious Ben and Leslie goals:
These two are important, especially at the end of the day.
What we're doing is a big deal for us. We are going away for one whole night. We are staying on the beach in a nice place with privacy and quiet, we are having a nice dinner together, and we are just going to enjoy each other with no child in our midst.
In truth, we probably have 2 to 4 date nights a year, and I'm not over-dramatizing at all. Usually we have to be in Pennsylvania or Oregon to warrant being away for even just a night, let alone anything more. Taking this time for ourselves is huge. This is such a big deal I've told almost no one about it, so as not to jinx or ruin it somehow. As if sharing my excitement could spoil the fun, but mostly it's not about anyone else but us.
It's been a rough handful of years, so for the big 10, we're ushering in 10 more and hopefully rekindling what we need to make it less volatile, stressful and stormy. We love us some thunderstorms, but I'd much rather enjoy them with my hubby than weather them at each other.
My wisdom after 10 years of marriage is this: You're going to be horrible to each other, you're going to have really dark moments, but don't give up the fight. If that is the person you want to fight with and annoy, keep annoying them, don't disappear. Remember that divorce is never a bad thing because happily married people don't get divorced, generally, so if you're fighting the good fight, you don't really have to worry about that part. I intend to keep fighting the good fight for as long as he's around to fight with.
Thursday, June 13, 2019
Learning Self Love, Navigating Awkward Moments and Accepting What You Can, Letting Go Of What You Can't
Self love is not for the weak. I realized, and especially when my body was fighting that medicine, that I wasn't being very nice to myself. You see, I got frustrated with my body and it's curves and it's stage in life, and I thought, well maybe this pill can help. My body responding with a long, resounding "NO WAY."
Self love is all about patience. We are flawed, messed up people. We all have our brokenness. I think we all have great days of self love, and wobbly days. We just can't ignore it or digress into the darkness. You gotta remember that you and this body you have are it, you gotta work together, and that's not always easy.
Weight gain sucks. Losing weight is hard. Although I have no beauty pageants to win and no one to impress, I definitely just want to look healthy and I don't mean that as skinny. I've always been curvy and "thicker" as my mother has so ingrained in me, but with pregnancy, motherhood and definitely now age, I'm learning to embrace it more, and attack it less.
The thyroid thing was a rough awakening. I realized that I'm at my most fit and technically healthy when I'm working out twice a day and mixing cardio and weights. TWICE A DAY. That's kind of a lot. And in general I don't eat that much! I don't watch it too much because I'm smart enough to know I will get dangerously obsessive. I know myself well enough to know what works.
This morning my body felt stiff and tired and I still have more workouts planned this week, but I let myself rest. This is hard for me, but completely okay. My anxiety kicked in like "Oh maybe I should have sucked it up and gone. Maybe I can go later tonight!" One day off is fine! I remind myself pretty consistently that I need to be kinder to myself.
It can get really awkward navigating all of this because there are times when I'm put in a position I don't know how to respond to well or kindly, and I don't want to just come across as the bitch. I had a friend tell me yesterday that you can't send along an annoyed tone via text. I disagree but apparently it is maintained that's factual.
Recently I've been asked repeatedly to do something I've said, face to face, via text and explained in more ways than one, that I am not into doing right now. It's honestly made me so frustrated I just have avoided everyone involved in the event, so I don't have to be made to feel badly about saying no. The thing is, it's super awkward because being not helpful in this situation looks bad on the outside, but inside, I'm really self-preserving and not being bullied --in a way-- into doing something that is mentally taxing on myself.
This is where I have to accept what I can from people, and just let go of what I can't really accept or understand. I struggle a lot with societal norms, etiquette, politeness, gratitude and appreciation, especially between family members. My husband and I have worked on this a lot because I feel like it's super important to be thanked and feel appreciated for the little things like, "Hey thanks for unloading the dishwasher before you went to work."
When these things go unappreciated they can fester and for me it triggers some politeness and gratefulness issues. This comes into play more and more in my life. When someone travels to see people, I feel like the gratefulness for that or appreciation for that is reflected in being taken out to eat, or being able to stay somewhere for free, or taking someone to do something nice. In turn, the words thank you should be flying about everywhere. "Thank you for making the trip" and "thanks for letting me crash here," and so on and so forth. For me, when these things are broken, it is unnerving.
I recently had to take a huge step back, and a huge breath and say to myself, "Okay not everyone will do what you think they should. Not everyone will react the way you think is appropriate. Everyone operates on a different wavelength and you just have to let it go."
You see I will always want the best for and of everyone. When I see someone succeed I want them to be celebrated properly. When someone is hurting and struggling, I want them to have no question that I have their back and can help if needed. But sadly, we live in a world where this isn't the norm anymore, and people won't just wake up and treat you as you'd like to be treated. Many people these days lack that capacity.
I feel like this is just all intertwined. All of it. I can love others better when I love myself. I can be more at peace when I love myself. I can navigate awkward moments better when I'm open to accepting things as they are, and letting go of frustrating incidents. Life is anything but easy but I've finally gotten it through my stubborn skull that my reaction to the hard parts, is half the battle. This is a battle I intend to win!
Self love is all about patience. We are flawed, messed up people. We all have our brokenness. I think we all have great days of self love, and wobbly days. We just can't ignore it or digress into the darkness. You gotta remember that you and this body you have are it, you gotta work together, and that's not always easy.
Weight gain sucks. Losing weight is hard. Although I have no beauty pageants to win and no one to impress, I definitely just want to look healthy and I don't mean that as skinny. I've always been curvy and "thicker" as my mother has so ingrained in me, but with pregnancy, motherhood and definitely now age, I'm learning to embrace it more, and attack it less.
The thyroid thing was a rough awakening. I realized that I'm at my most fit and technically healthy when I'm working out twice a day and mixing cardio and weights. TWICE A DAY. That's kind of a lot. And in general I don't eat that much! I don't watch it too much because I'm smart enough to know I will get dangerously obsessive. I know myself well enough to know what works.
This morning my body felt stiff and tired and I still have more workouts planned this week, but I let myself rest. This is hard for me, but completely okay. My anxiety kicked in like "Oh maybe I should have sucked it up and gone. Maybe I can go later tonight!" One day off is fine! I remind myself pretty consistently that I need to be kinder to myself.
It can get really awkward navigating all of this because there are times when I'm put in a position I don't know how to respond to well or kindly, and I don't want to just come across as the bitch. I had a friend tell me yesterday that you can't send along an annoyed tone via text. I disagree but apparently it is maintained that's factual.
Recently I've been asked repeatedly to do something I've said, face to face, via text and explained in more ways than one, that I am not into doing right now. It's honestly made me so frustrated I just have avoided everyone involved in the event, so I don't have to be made to feel badly about saying no. The thing is, it's super awkward because being not helpful in this situation looks bad on the outside, but inside, I'm really self-preserving and not being bullied --in a way-- into doing something that is mentally taxing on myself.
This is where I have to accept what I can from people, and just let go of what I can't really accept or understand. I struggle a lot with societal norms, etiquette, politeness, gratitude and appreciation, especially between family members. My husband and I have worked on this a lot because I feel like it's super important to be thanked and feel appreciated for the little things like, "Hey thanks for unloading the dishwasher before you went to work."
When these things go unappreciated they can fester and for me it triggers some politeness and gratefulness issues. This comes into play more and more in my life. When someone travels to see people, I feel like the gratefulness for that or appreciation for that is reflected in being taken out to eat, or being able to stay somewhere for free, or taking someone to do something nice. In turn, the words thank you should be flying about everywhere. "Thank you for making the trip" and "thanks for letting me crash here," and so on and so forth. For me, when these things are broken, it is unnerving.
I recently had to take a huge step back, and a huge breath and say to myself, "Okay not everyone will do what you think they should. Not everyone will react the way you think is appropriate. Everyone operates on a different wavelength and you just have to let it go."
You see I will always want the best for and of everyone. When I see someone succeed I want them to be celebrated properly. When someone is hurting and struggling, I want them to have no question that I have their back and can help if needed. But sadly, we live in a world where this isn't the norm anymore, and people won't just wake up and treat you as you'd like to be treated. Many people these days lack that capacity.
I feel like this is just all intertwined. All of it. I can love others better when I love myself. I can be more at peace when I love myself. I can navigate awkward moments better when I'm open to accepting things as they are, and letting go of frustrating incidents. Life is anything but easy but I've finally gotten it through my stubborn skull that my reaction to the hard parts, is half the battle. This is a battle I intend to win!
Wednesday, June 12, 2019
Coffee Is My Friend
Last night I was doing what I do best, watching Friends, and I realized that I grew up watching a show completely immersed in coffee culture. My dad always drank coffee, and then I came into adulthood in the Pacific Northwest, where Starbucks was for people who liked coffee flavored like hot chocolate, Dunkin Donuts had gone extinct and the craft coffee places ruled all. It's no wonder I'm a coffee snob, and if anything messes with my caffeinated state, I want to harm people.
Don't get me wrong, I'm Starbucks' target audience for the Pumpkin Spice Latte, the frappaccino on a hot day, and perfect White Chocolate Mocha any old day. I try to try their new stuff but always end up disappointed and $10 doesn't even buy you two coffees anymore. I'm lucky that in our town we have a local Costa-Rican grown coffee shop with their own beans, flavor extracts and amazing people so I spent my fortune there.
Dunkin Donuts is NOT coffee. It's coffee water. It's watered down flavor with crappy coffee. McDonalds coffee is NOT coffee. Shall I continue? Yes, I am a coffee snob. If you are a Starbucks aficionado, good for you. If you go to Dunkin Donuts for something other than Donuts, good for you. If you love a McCafe Frappe, good for you. Not for me, no thanks, with the exception of a quick Starbucks visit for PSL season.
When my horrible thyroid medicine was making me ill, it ruined my coffee to the point where I had to sugar it up and make it easier on my body. I once worked with someone who summed up my coffee order perfectly, a male who once joked, "I like my coffee like I like my men, black and on the run." While completely inappropriate and not true about the men part, I drink BLACK coffee. Just plain.
My husband likes to think I got too lazy to put stuff into it. The truth of it is this, after pregnancy and with a new baby, when I finally wanted coffee, putting all the creamer and stuff was not only a waste of calories, but would just make it cool down to fast. I could sip it slowly and savor every bit of brewed optimism I could get. The whole point became that coffee was my morning luxury and the very point of quiet and calm to wake me up and remind me I could do it. Fluffing it up with extra crap does nothing but keep you bloated and get in the way of the caffeine.
If you ever want to convey to me that I'm important, you buy me coffee. To me, this is the ultimate gift. When we go to Oregon to visit and my brother in law makes my first cup, and he makes the best coffee in all the land by the way, that's when I know I'm home.
At our local coffee spot I add their natural flavor but no cream. They make natural extracts like, Lavender Vanilla, Marshmallow, White Chocolate, Violet and seasonal ones as well. I love them. To me that's worth the money and the calories.
Coffee is also one of the few things I do not have to share with my child. She will hog and steal my juice, she will want to have my ice cream, milkshake, and even iced tea. Sometimes she gets a taste of them but giving your child coffee gives the bad mom award right to me, so I always say, "You can't have mommy's coffee," and it sounds even better because I'm right.
When I studied in London, I was made fun of for my "filthy American" coffee habit. Most of the best coffee there was found in little deli-type places and definitely not Starbucks, however, they are definitely all about the tea over there.
This morning I finally enjoyed a completely epic dark roast of fresh coffee and just realized that it's one of my few luxuries. I don't mean to say I go out every day and buy coffee, I just mean that I allow myself that coffee every day. I make sure I have good coffee, every day. Hell my Mother's Day present was a coffee grinder!
I don't get massages often enough, maybe twice I year. I don't get my nails done more than twice a year either. I don't buy fancy clothes, purses, shoes or housewares. I pack my lunch every day. We rarely go out to dinner. I am NEVER without coffee. Never. Coffee has become quite the great friend to me, and I never ever want to be without it.
So here is my ode to coffee and to our beautiful relationship. This blog does advertise diatribes so here one is, and on Wednesday of all days! Reminder that Saturday and Sunday will be post-less as I will be attempting to enjoy a true weekend away!
Tuesday, June 11, 2019
The Flashback
It happened just a year after the car accident. I had started my wonderful new job in Clearwater and it was a super normal day. We worked in a commercial business office building downtown and that particular warm summer day there was a fire drill. Down some 8 flights of stairs myself and the one other female in the office that day, grabbed purses in case and vacated.
All the smokers huddled in one area, and everyone that worked in the building was down outside the office. That's when it happened. I saw him. I saw the guy that hit us with his red Ford F-150, totaled our car and put my kid in a wheelchair for a summer. I saw him for the first time since that day.
It actually happened like they portray in the movies. I saw him and was like "Where do I recognize him from," and saw a flash of passing him in the hall at a church we tried for a few months, but then saw him from that day and had a violent flashback. I could hear my heartbeat just like in a movie, but the rest of my hearing became faint as I went back to that day, me sitting bloody on an embankment, a security guard that stopped holding my daughter as she wined and her legs started to get purple, my husband's head bleeding and completely disoriented sitting beside me and then I saw him crouched down near me apologizing and swearing and freaking out.
Now when I replay it I feel like I was missing that music from Kill Bill when she remembers everyone standing over her and you hear the sirens and old music indicating the enemy she revisits. That was me.
It honestly took my breath away and I could feel my face change in the horror of realization. I gathered myself a bit and had an impulse to go talk to him but something stopped me. I text and messaged some friends about the incident and everyone responded the same, "OMG ARE YOU OKAY?" It hadn't dawned on me how traumatic it was until later.
Later I realized I hadn't gone up to him because I was afraid he wouldn't remember us, which would piss me off, no infuriate me more likely. Part of me wanted to go up and tell him that although he knocked us down a few pegs, that he should know we're okay and that especially my daughter had recovered. But if he somehow didn't remember, it would bring out the kind of mama bear that might actually harm him, or try. I wanted to scream at him how he better have learned to be a better driver, and that I hope he had nightmares about that day, but it would have served no purpose.
It was a surreal moment. Sometimes it still haunts me. Just the way I flashed back was so intense and real. When you watch movies like that, you think it's an over-dramatization but for me it was anything but. I felt such a weird rush too, like I was back in that moment on that day I had to breathe deeply and reboot.
It's rare that I have those kind of flashbacks but my PTSD is still incredibly real. It's not something that just goes away. Sometimes it sucks having to be the memory of that accident for everyone. Although the people who visited the hospital have their own memories of seeing us too, but for my husband and daughter I remember it all.
I remember there were no screeching brakes or warning signals. I remember the broken glass, the shatter sound and the airbags. I remember that faint humming from right after the impact and my immediately coming to, hulk-mama style ready to check on my baby. She was unconscious from the impact a minute and so was my husband.
I remember not being able to open my car door being the scariest. I remember screaming for help and wanting my baby out of that car and yelling at Eben to get it together. My most recent flashback to the day was last year. My husband and I were in a rental car driving in California and ended up behind a Volkswagen, the very same model of the one we were behind when we got hit and for whatever reason he said the exact same thing he said to me a mere two minutes before impact. He said "What kind of Volvo is that even? That thing looks ridiculous."
When we were driving in California and he said that, with me in the passenger seat and him driving, even though my daughter wasn't there I looked at him annoyed like he was playing a joke and referencing the day. Then the flashback wave came over me and full panic attack began. I said, "Oh my God get away from that car!" I bent myself over in the car trying to catch a breath. I yelled at him, "You don't remember? How do you not remember? That was the fucking car! THAT WAS THE SAME KIND OF CAR AND WE SAID THE SAME THING!"
My husband helped calm me and reminded me he had no idea. I told him that right before we got hit we had some disagreement, some stupid disagreement and he broke the tension with a joke about the Volvo in front of us, the same one we just passed two years later, in California of all places. Also, I swear when I'm stressed, sorry not sorry.
It's rare I talk about this stuff because people act as though I'm making it worse than it was. Few people have a gauge for what trauma like that does to a person so I keep a lot of the residual effects to myself and try to use everything in my coping tool box to keep me going.
I try my best not to impose excess anxiety upon these days but be aware and grateful. Whenever my daughter wants to talk about it, we talk about it as long as she wants because I want her to feel safe with telling me things about anything always. When asked about it I don't shy away, but in general you won't find me open up the discussion.
This is the first year I don't feel the full weight of it. I don't feel like we're still submersed in the wreckage, which makes me happier about it. For that, among everything else I'm grateful. I hope I never run into that bad driver again, but I leave most things up to the universe in retrospect. With that, I'm ready to see what this Tuesday has to offer!
All the smokers huddled in one area, and everyone that worked in the building was down outside the office. That's when it happened. I saw him. I saw the guy that hit us with his red Ford F-150, totaled our car and put my kid in a wheelchair for a summer. I saw him for the first time since that day.
It actually happened like they portray in the movies. I saw him and was like "Where do I recognize him from," and saw a flash of passing him in the hall at a church we tried for a few months, but then saw him from that day and had a violent flashback. I could hear my heartbeat just like in a movie, but the rest of my hearing became faint as I went back to that day, me sitting bloody on an embankment, a security guard that stopped holding my daughter as she wined and her legs started to get purple, my husband's head bleeding and completely disoriented sitting beside me and then I saw him crouched down near me apologizing and swearing and freaking out.
Now when I replay it I feel like I was missing that music from Kill Bill when she remembers everyone standing over her and you hear the sirens and old music indicating the enemy she revisits. That was me.
It honestly took my breath away and I could feel my face change in the horror of realization. I gathered myself a bit and had an impulse to go talk to him but something stopped me. I text and messaged some friends about the incident and everyone responded the same, "OMG ARE YOU OKAY?" It hadn't dawned on me how traumatic it was until later.
Later I realized I hadn't gone up to him because I was afraid he wouldn't remember us, which would piss me off, no infuriate me more likely. Part of me wanted to go up and tell him that although he knocked us down a few pegs, that he should know we're okay and that especially my daughter had recovered. But if he somehow didn't remember, it would bring out the kind of mama bear that might actually harm him, or try. I wanted to scream at him how he better have learned to be a better driver, and that I hope he had nightmares about that day, but it would have served no purpose.
It was a surreal moment. Sometimes it still haunts me. Just the way I flashed back was so intense and real. When you watch movies like that, you think it's an over-dramatization but for me it was anything but. I felt such a weird rush too, like I was back in that moment on that day I had to breathe deeply and reboot.
It's rare that I have those kind of flashbacks but my PTSD is still incredibly real. It's not something that just goes away. Sometimes it sucks having to be the memory of that accident for everyone. Although the people who visited the hospital have their own memories of seeing us too, but for my husband and daughter I remember it all.
I remember there were no screeching brakes or warning signals. I remember the broken glass, the shatter sound and the airbags. I remember that faint humming from right after the impact and my immediately coming to, hulk-mama style ready to check on my baby. She was unconscious from the impact a minute and so was my husband.
I remember not being able to open my car door being the scariest. I remember screaming for help and wanting my baby out of that car and yelling at Eben to get it together. My most recent flashback to the day was last year. My husband and I were in a rental car driving in California and ended up behind a Volkswagen, the very same model of the one we were behind when we got hit and for whatever reason he said the exact same thing he said to me a mere two minutes before impact. He said "What kind of Volvo is that even? That thing looks ridiculous."
When we were driving in California and he said that, with me in the passenger seat and him driving, even though my daughter wasn't there I looked at him annoyed like he was playing a joke and referencing the day. Then the flashback wave came over me and full panic attack began. I said, "Oh my God get away from that car!" I bent myself over in the car trying to catch a breath. I yelled at him, "You don't remember? How do you not remember? That was the fucking car! THAT WAS THE SAME KIND OF CAR AND WE SAID THE SAME THING!"
My husband helped calm me and reminded me he had no idea. I told him that right before we got hit we had some disagreement, some stupid disagreement and he broke the tension with a joke about the Volvo in front of us, the same one we just passed two years later, in California of all places. Also, I swear when I'm stressed, sorry not sorry.
It's rare I talk about this stuff because people act as though I'm making it worse than it was. Few people have a gauge for what trauma like that does to a person so I keep a lot of the residual effects to myself and try to use everything in my coping tool box to keep me going.
I try my best not to impose excess anxiety upon these days but be aware and grateful. Whenever my daughter wants to talk about it, we talk about it as long as she wants because I want her to feel safe with telling me things about anything always. When asked about it I don't shy away, but in general you won't find me open up the discussion.
This is the first year I don't feel the full weight of it. I don't feel like we're still submersed in the wreckage, which makes me happier about it. For that, among everything else I'm grateful. I hope I never run into that bad driver again, but I leave most things up to the universe in retrospect. With that, I'm ready to see what this Tuesday has to offer!
Monday, June 10, 2019
Week Of Anniversaries - Some Better Than Others
So, Thursday marks a decade since I graduated college. Friday marks a decade of marriage. Saturday marks a decade since we left Oregon to start our journey to Florida, and 3 years since the car accident. The car accident anniversary is murky; everything else is good, happy milestones.
Graduating college was a trip. It was something else and it was definitely overshadowed by the wedding, but I kind of liked it that way. My college stuff was rough. I still have some resentment because I literally found out my last semester that I was in the completely wrong program for what I actually wanted to do with my life. But, we continue.
If you look at our wedding now, it was unimpressive. To us, it was this huge send off into life together and literally everyone pitched in. The dads split the venue, my sister helped with the cake, my other sister bought a bunch of wine, my dad did the ceremony and helped with my dress, too. We did a lot on our own. My husband catered it with a friend and his mom bought the supplies. Our friend brought a PA system and I made a playlist on my iPod he played. The boy I nanny-ed for all those year played songs on guitar too. Everyone had a blast.
It was after that we moved away and started a life that was just ours. We've struggled a lot. Our past handful of anniversaries have been less fantastic. For our first anniversary we went to St. Augustine and had a blast. After that, with the exception of a quick overnight when in Pennsylvania we have been with the little one and just tried to grab a dinner.
This weekend is a night away about 90 minutes away from home and I'm ridiculously excited honestly. It's been a long time since we wanted to make the effort to spend time together. Last year we stole 3 days together, not anniversary related but we barely even have a date night anymore so this is kind of a big deal.
We will be driving on the car accident anniversary, which makes me a bit nervous, but I love being further and further away from that day. My daughter talks about it a lot. She isn't afraid to discuss it at all, and I always answer her questions and tell her how it was because she only remembers bits and pieces. Even my husband has a rough time remembering.
It's so weird thinking about all of this. A decade being married, a decade of no longer being a student and fully a part of the working world, and 3 years far from that horrible day. All in the span of 3 days.
This is the first year in a long time none of it has plagued me, I'm not just feeling completely weighed down. I want a one night break. I want to just enjoy each other. I don't want to be afraid to drive.
My best friend told me that marriage is made up of a lot of bad years and her husband always says he wants to get those over with so they can just make it to the good. I wholeheartedly agree. And this is the first time in a long time that I've felt like maybe year 10 could be a wholehearted good one.
Graduating college was a trip. It was something else and it was definitely overshadowed by the wedding, but I kind of liked it that way. My college stuff was rough. I still have some resentment because I literally found out my last semester that I was in the completely wrong program for what I actually wanted to do with my life. But, we continue.
If you look at our wedding now, it was unimpressive. To us, it was this huge send off into life together and literally everyone pitched in. The dads split the venue, my sister helped with the cake, my other sister bought a bunch of wine, my dad did the ceremony and helped with my dress, too. We did a lot on our own. My husband catered it with a friend and his mom bought the supplies. Our friend brought a PA system and I made a playlist on my iPod he played. The boy I nanny-ed for all those year played songs on guitar too. Everyone had a blast.
It was after that we moved away and started a life that was just ours. We've struggled a lot. Our past handful of anniversaries have been less fantastic. For our first anniversary we went to St. Augustine and had a blast. After that, with the exception of a quick overnight when in Pennsylvania we have been with the little one and just tried to grab a dinner.
This weekend is a night away about 90 minutes away from home and I'm ridiculously excited honestly. It's been a long time since we wanted to make the effort to spend time together. Last year we stole 3 days together, not anniversary related but we barely even have a date night anymore so this is kind of a big deal.
We will be driving on the car accident anniversary, which makes me a bit nervous, but I love being further and further away from that day. My daughter talks about it a lot. She isn't afraid to discuss it at all, and I always answer her questions and tell her how it was because she only remembers bits and pieces. Even my husband has a rough time remembering.
It's so weird thinking about all of this. A decade being married, a decade of no longer being a student and fully a part of the working world, and 3 years far from that horrible day. All in the span of 3 days.
This is the first year in a long time none of it has plagued me, I'm not just feeling completely weighed down. I want a one night break. I want to just enjoy each other. I don't want to be afraid to drive.
My best friend told me that marriage is made up of a lot of bad years and her husband always says he wants to get those over with so they can just make it to the good. I wholeheartedly agree. And this is the first time in a long time that I've felt like maybe year 10 could be a wholehearted good one.
Sunday, June 9, 2019
I Love When My Kid is Sick - In A Non-Creepy Way
I literally had a conversation last weekend with a fellow parent, a dad even, and we agreed that when our kids are sick, we kinda love it. This isn't some psychotic creepy love of sickly children. We just love when they really need us. They want to just snuggle and be calm. They ask you for what they need, there is no time or energy for a tantrum about anything, and they are crazy sweet. So I don't love when my child is sick in like a Munchausen syndrome by proxy way, but more like, they finally slow down and just chill with you.
This is my Sunday, and on days like this, which I'm fortunate enough end up on weekends more often than not, I get a lot done around the house but also get time for myself to reboot. She's allowed to literally watch endless television and the dog is happy cuddling all day with someone.
It's so funny how things work out. Usually when she's sick I go into panic mode of "I can't miss work!" But, I actually can. At my current job I'm lucky enough that I never get punished for missing work. It's pretty refreshing. Friday I just felt off and was allowed to leave work early. I literally got everything important done before I left. Everything else can usually wait and I feel so appreciative for that.
I cleaned most of the house and it's 11:15AM on a Sunday. I'm already back in my pajamas after a quick grocery store run before my husband had to go to work. I went through all of my daughter's toys and got rid of a bunch of stuff she didn't need. I reorganized a bit. I purged some stuff. I may even go through her clothes and rotate out some things today. I have some sewing that I've been neglecting also.
It's weirdly refreshing when you have time to tackle things. Of course I'll leave steam cleaning the floors last because that I just an annoying job in my opinion. However, it's nice after the week I had to have this kind of day today.
The next week has a few different kinds of anniversaries for our family and can have a lot of emotional baggage, but I'm going at them with all the positive vibes. It's so weird how after everything this weekend, and feeling so ill, and now having a sick kid, I'm somehow in this freakishly optimistic mood. Like I'm just not worried or stressing, but just happy that things are coming together.
I've made it six months of posting and Friday marks the first day I actually missed. I'm proud of that and even though two more posts will be missed shortly here, I still am impressed with myself that I haven't lost out to anything else. These are important moments. Truly.
So, with laundry to fold, purging to do, bathrooms and floors to clean, I go forth onto this Sunday ready to rock.
This is my Sunday, and on days like this, which I'm fortunate enough end up on weekends more often than not, I get a lot done around the house but also get time for myself to reboot. She's allowed to literally watch endless television and the dog is happy cuddling all day with someone.
It's so funny how things work out. Usually when she's sick I go into panic mode of "I can't miss work!" But, I actually can. At my current job I'm lucky enough that I never get punished for missing work. It's pretty refreshing. Friday I just felt off and was allowed to leave work early. I literally got everything important done before I left. Everything else can usually wait and I feel so appreciative for that.
I cleaned most of the house and it's 11:15AM on a Sunday. I'm already back in my pajamas after a quick grocery store run before my husband had to go to work. I went through all of my daughter's toys and got rid of a bunch of stuff she didn't need. I reorganized a bit. I purged some stuff. I may even go through her clothes and rotate out some things today. I have some sewing that I've been neglecting also.
It's weirdly refreshing when you have time to tackle things. Of course I'll leave steam cleaning the floors last because that I just an annoying job in my opinion. However, it's nice after the week I had to have this kind of day today.
The next week has a few different kinds of anniversaries for our family and can have a lot of emotional baggage, but I'm going at them with all the positive vibes. It's so weird how after everything this weekend, and feeling so ill, and now having a sick kid, I'm somehow in this freakishly optimistic mood. Like I'm just not worried or stressing, but just happy that things are coming together.
I've made it six months of posting and Friday marks the first day I actually missed. I'm proud of that and even though two more posts will be missed shortly here, I still am impressed with myself that I haven't lost out to anything else. These are important moments. Truly.
So, with laundry to fold, purging to do, bathrooms and floors to clean, I go forth onto this Sunday ready to rock.
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