My 33rd List

I’ve been having a pity party for a couple of days now. Between turning 33 yesterday and another major important event in my life all happening at once, it has been extremely overwhelming. I have to admit I haven’t handled it very well. If not for my children I would have stayed in bed both days.

 

So tonight I’m sitting here working on some things and thinking about what’s been bothering me most about my birthday this year. I’ve had the recurring thought that I accomplished absolutely nothing last year. Of course, I did, but to me—the perfectionist—it feels like nothing. (For the record, I’ve completed over a year of college.)

 

I never really jumped on the Bucket List bandwagon. I guess I never saw any relevance in it for myself. Until now. I just had the thought that I don’t want to wait until I get bad news or my health goes south to decide to finally do something with my life. Maybe the reason I didn’t accomplish much is because I didn’t really plan to accomplish anything. Interesting school of thought there…

 

So here it is…*a list of things I hope to accomplish during my 33rd year on this Earth (or, at least, some time in the near future):

 

• Finish writing a book (fiction).
• Submit book/find an agent.
• Earn my A.A. degree.
• Graduate with an “A” average.
• Enroll in Bachelors program.
• Decide what I want to do (career-wise).
• Learn how to have fun with my kids again.
• Send more snail mail to friends/family.
• Follow my creative urges/don’t stifle my creativity.
• Love myself a little more. (Stop being so critical towards myself.)
• Encourage my daughter to be more daring with her art.
• Go on a vacation with my family.
• Laugh more.
• Learn how to relax.
• Sew more raggedy dolls.
• Sew Emily some skirts for school.

 

*I reserve the right to add to this list or revise as necessary. :)

Letting Myself Go

It's one of those days. After lots of great family time last week, it all ended Saturday night when we had to take Robert back. Then I got the news yesterday about what day they'll be leaving and that has just thrown me into a huge tailspin.

I've known this was coming for months. I kept telling myself this time would be easier. It isn't. In fact, it's worse. I feel like there's so many things left undone and unspoken and too many loose ends flapping in the wind. I pray to God I can make it through the coming months.

I'm tired. I'm stressed. I'm worried. I feel like letting myself go. I'm so tired of struggling. I'm tired of fighting for what seems to be a hopeless cause sometimes. Is this all there is to life? I hope not.

 

(I will be okay. I just need to vent today.)

Digging It Out Of The Trash

My life has been a whirlwind of insane events over the last two months. Every ounce of me has been uprooted and changed. And I don't like it.

I've been "just dealing" with everything that's been happening, telling myself to just keep putting one foot in front of the other and make it through another day. But I don't want to just barely survive. I want to live.

I have avoided blogging for several reasons. First, I have found that when I am most open and honest, I get a greater response--on both ends of the spectrum. People call me and ask "politely" if I'm okay, or how I'd doing. (By the way, if you do that, that's ALWAYS a sure sign to me that you've been "checking up" on me. *wink*) I don't like those questions. Especially when they're asked every single day. I appreciate the concern, but sometimes it almost feels unauthentic. Not just that, but this is a very difficult time for me, and every day is a challenge. Sometimes I just need support and encouragement, not questions.

The next reason is because sometimes avoiding talking about it keeps me under control of myself. My emotions are terribly out of whack right now, and talking about what's bothering me usually sends me into an awful crying fit. I try very hard to keep myself pulled together so my children won't be alarmed by anything going on.

Third, I've pretty much put a stop to every bit of writing. Period. I tend to do this when I'm going through a rough time. I plug my writing and it comes to a screeching halt. There again, it's the same as above: writing is talking, and talking brings out a lot of emotion at times.

Those last two reasons have had me thinking, though. The last time Robert was deployed to Iraq, I wrote, and I wrote a lot. I wrote about everything and shared every emotion I felt during that time. Sometimes I wonder if that was a good thing or not (I am glad I did it, for posterity).

I don't like to allow myself to become vulnerable to the general public. At the same time, though, I know without a doubt that every time I share something deeply personal, without fail I get a lot of response from others sharing their own similar experiences, or offering to pray for me, or just letting me know that they care and are thinking about me. That means a lot.

I guess you could say when things started getting hectic in my life, I decided to just trash my blogs. Let them go to waste. Have the weeds take over. I figured eventually everyone would forget about me if I just stopped talking. Then I realized that I've always blogged for me. Yes, the attention is gratifying, but that was never what made me start my first blog. I wanted to share. I wanted to live. I wanted to connect.

So while I would love nothing more than to hide, I think I will dig this blog out of the garbage and bring it back to life. That doesn't mean I'll be here every day. I have to take it slowly--one day at a time.

One Step At A Time

When I decided to go back to college last year and finally get a degree, it was a huge leap of faith. Several months into my education, I became incredibly unhappy with my classes, but couldn't understand why. My grades were great (except for the last class I had), but there was something missing.

I was excited about the prospect of earning a college degree. But the excitement of what I was going for quickly waned. For years I'd dreamed of becoming a teacher, yet when the sudden realization hit me that this was a dream that would quickly become reality, I was uneasy, unsure, and most of all afraid of making a mistake.

Dreams Morph

It wasn't really that I no longer wanted to be a teacher. I'd still love to at least give it a try to see if I'd be good at it or not. But my course of studies was definitely not one that I enjoyed. Social Sciences, which is what my major was, just did not seem to be my thing. Yet, after having waited so long to finally decide to stick it out and get a degree, I was afraid of admitting that I was not enjoying my studies. Shouldn't learning be fun, after all?

After a few months of deliberation and consideration, I finally decided I needed to either change paths or suffer and deal with the agony of studying something I wasn't interested in, just so I could say, "I finally finished." Not good.

See, this is how I've lived almost my entire life. Living and doing to please others. So worried about what others would say or think about me. But this is my life. The only miserable person would be me. And that just wouldn't work.

Dreams change. People change. And if we aren't careful, we could go on living off of dead dreams...dreams that died so long ago they're dirty, stinking, rotten dreams. I think that's where I found myself: Fighting for a dead dream. My life is much different now than it was 10-15 years ago. I finally figured out there's nothing wrong with a dream dying. There's something really wrong with holding on to it and trying to make it still fit into my life, though.

Making a Change

I worked up my courage and decided what I wanted to study was something totally different. I realized then that the school I was attending did not offer a program tailored to my needs. This was obstacle #2. To change my plan, I needed to change schools. Scary.

Change is never easy and rarely fun, but sometimes very necessary. Once I'd finally worked up the nerve to talk to someone at a different school, I discovered my zeal for higher education suddenly sparked to life again. Just hearing about a possible course of action I could take to change my college major made me feel better. I knew these classes would be much more interesting to me. It was the right thing--for me.

Breathe, Release

This is still an ongoing process. I will be starting classes at my new school, under a new degree program, in less than two weeks. I'm still scared, but excited. It was far from easy for me to make the decision to change my major, let alone withdraw from my current school and enroll in a new one.

I don't like change. It makes me nervous. But there are times in life when change is required, and when you make it, your life instantly shifts and becomes better, especially when you know the change placed you back on the right path.

For now, I'll breathe, and release. Very shortly, I will hold those wonderful documents in my hands that verify my accomplishments. Those will be fantastic, no doubt. Even better than that is the inner satisfaction I have, knowing I'm doing something to better myself and my family. Nothing can top that.

What's Your Word?

Your Word is "Peace"

You see life as precious, and you wish everyone was safe, happy, and taken care of. Social justice, human rights, and peace for all nations are all important to you. While you can't stop war, you try to be as calm and compassionate as possible in your everyday life. You promote harmony and cooperation. You're always willing to meet someone a little more than halfway.

What's Your Word?

Take Inventory

When was the last time you took inventory of your life? Do you ever reflect on the past, to determine if you're getting anywhere? Is your life moving forward, or are you still stuck in the same crevice you were in three years ago?

This morning I pulled out a couple of my older backup discs, in search of a particular file. I ended up spending over an hour digging through old writing files. I am amazed by what I found.

You know, all too often, I don't give myself enough credit. I've always felt less than best, but the truth is, I have a God-given talent. I'm not being boastful, because I have plenty room for improvement. But truthfully, I have not given myself enough credit for my work in the last few years.

During my file-digging excursion this morning, I also uncovered quite a few folders containing stories I started, but never finished. There was always some other freelance opportunity to sidetrack me from my ultimate goal of writing a book. For whatever reason, I always chose to drop my own heart-writing for financial security from writing for others. Not good.

As I sit here this morning, I'm kind of astounded by and ashamed at myself. I'm astounded that God would choose to give me such a blessed gift of writing. Yet, at the same time, I'm ashamed because I'm realizing I haven't always used this talent wisely.

Taking inventory is never an easy thing to do. It's difficult to look at myself and take honest stock in my actions. But I know it's a good thing. When I get real with myself, I can shake away the dirt and dust that's marred my vision and reach out to God for direction and guidance, seeing His vision more clearly.

Finding the Good

This past week has been a struggle for me. When I find myself in this spot, I have to be even more diligent in forcing myself to find the good in everything, because it's just easier to see the bad. Then I received an email newsletter yesterday that provided me with just the boost I needed.

All too often, when we're down in the slumps, we just stay there. We focus on all the stuff going on around us that looks bad. We talk about them. We live, breathe, and eat them. Eventually, we're consumed by them because we choose not to find our way out of that mental state. At least, that's what usually happens.

I'm trying very hard to step out of that state. I don't want to grow pessimistic with age. I don't want to become jaded by life. Stuff happens to everyone. Truth is, there are a lot more people in this world that are much worse off than I.

I want to revel in my mountain peaks. When times are rough, I want to look up and remind myself of all the times in between that were fun or good or happy. Those times--the good times--are the safety net underneath me when I'm down. They're the angel wings that will lift me up in the valley and protect me to the next mountain peak.

If you're struggling with something today and you feel like there's nothing good in your life at this time, stop and think about the last time something wonderful happened to you. Remind yourself of all the blessings you've received to date. I'm betting the good will outweigh the bad.

I Have Hope...?

There's a song I like that talks about having hope in every situation, no matter what comes or goes, there is always Hope. And yet, despite my own name being Hope, there are so many times when I feel hopeless.

I've been wondering...why is that?

To hope is to be optimistic. To wish and be full of expectation. To act upon the possibility of something positive happening.

I used to be full of hope. I used to look at life with expectancy, wishing for all good things to come of everything I did. When, and how, did this change within me?

I had a rough childhood. My life was far from simple or easy as a kid. But somehow, despite all that, I managed to survive. Yes, survive. I didn't learn to thrive until the 18-20 years. That's when I gained my independence and learned how to love myself and believe in myself.

In the last 10-12 years, I've experienced a lot of heartache, heartbreak, trials, and problems. So why is it that all these things negatively affected me and my perception now? Why was the change not a positive one, as it was after the first 18 years of my life?

Somehow I've turned into a person who worries endlessly about everything, is concerned about the minute things that really don't even matter in the big picture, and fears/believes the worst will happen in every situation because "that's just my luck." Why? How did this happen?

I don't like this me. Not at all. I wish I could be the old me. The me that can see the good in others when they do bad things. The me that believes good can come from bad. The me that hopes for the best in every situation.

I am Hope. But I don't have much hope anymore. Not today, anyway.

Beginning Again

When I killed off this blog a couple of years ago, I never thought I'd resurrect it. But I was wrong. :)

After several turns of events (and losing a "new" personal blog I'd started again on my personal website), I decided to come back to good old Blogger and continue my personal blogging here.

This blog won't have a specific theme. It's always been personal, and it will remain that way. One of the main reasons I dropped this blog was because of people using things I wrote against me. I won't put up with it this time around, though. You're more than welcome to come and read my blog, but if you try your foolishness again you won't be met with a smile (and "you" know who "you" are).

So, with that said, here I am...beginning again.