tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473243658825835782024-02-18T18:06:29.485-08:00PEACE in PUZZLESPutting it all together one piece at a timeIntegrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.comBlogger503125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-67609846707770254372017-07-06T21:23:00.005-07:002017-07-06T21:23:51.876-07:00ImpostorSissy has been out of hospitalizations for more than two years and it is due in large part to the very heavy medications they put her on during her last stay. She's still had her moments and she is very much a difficult person, but the hours of endless rages and the need for a safe room with padded walls have disappeared. Until recently.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm currently emotionally eating. (Hey, at least I know that's what I'm doing.) I'm mad. I'm frustrated. I'm annoyed. I'm fed up. She'll be 18 in December and tonight? I'm shaking my head at myself because I should have gone with my gut instinct and called 911 but I didn't. Why didn't I? *sigh* </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Because I've been living life as an impostor for the past year.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
For about eighteen months now, despite being in the throes of graduate school, I decided to live my life. I started making attempts at dating, I went out, I made new friends, I broadened my horizons, I did new things, went on new adventures, stayed out late, let the kids be home by themselves, I tried new restaurants, and best of all, I learned to laugh, sing, and be happy again. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
No harm, you say. All good, therapeutic even. A wise choice. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Except I haven't really told people about Sissy. Or our struggles. Or about any of it. I let the past stay in the past. I pretended it didn't happen any more. For my new friends, that part of my life never happened at all. I'm just a happy single mom and science teacher. Sure, I mentioned that Sissy and AB had challenges, but I never said to what extent. I pretended. I ignored. I let people tell me how awesome WG is and how they wish they had a kid just like her. I imagined I was like all the other moms out there, trying to enjoy their single 40's. (yeah I know, they're are mostly all married. shut up. this is MY story. lol) </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So there it is. I've let what happens at home, stay at home and except for one or two new friends that I've felt were safe to be a little more honest, in part because they understood my struggles for similar reasons, I've let it remain a mystery. Jokes that Sissy is like "Tina" from the TV show <i>Bob's Burgers</i>, bribes to Sissy so she would stay in her room when my friends came over, chuckles about her odd behaviors, shrugging it off, smiling, waving it away, dismissing it, and dare I say, running away from my home reality for little snippets of time, have all been... blissful, addicting, a balm to a weary soul, enticing, and simply too delightful to pass up. For those moments when I'm away with my single friends, I get to pretend I'm normal too.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There is the minor stings from time to time, when men prefer not to date me because of the kids, or when I can't join the fun because I have responsibilities they don't have. Or when I WANT to be open and honest about my personal realities but feel like I can't because it won't be understood or worse, for fear that I will be deemed no longer worthy of the new found friend status. Some people have said that Sissy intimidates them. Others have said that my strength to do what I do every day intimidates them. The undercurrent of truth about my life, my "running away," my intentional role as an impostor, is strong. It catches up with me when I go home and the kids are there and I'm reminded time and again - oh yeah. That's right. I'm a single mom in her 40s raising these kids on her own and damnit, it is impossibly hard, lonely, and I HATE IT!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I cry myself to sleep and I cry myself awake. I don't let people know that though because life is actually so much better, especially since grad school is over. The loneliness is like a plague that consumes me. The burden is weight that is crushing me. So what do I do? I lie on facebook too. Everyone is loving my new positive outlook and my cheery posts. They are a ruse. I'm trying to cheer myself, I'm reaching for what isn't present in my soul. I'm being intentional about positivism because what the hell else am I going to do? I'm already lying to all my new friends about the truth of who I am and what my life is like, I might as well continue the charade on facebook.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Going out fills me up. It makes me feel better. Sometimes I don't want to go home. Sometimes I find reasons to stay out longer. Sometimes I intentionally have a second drink so I have to sit at the bar longer to sober up before I can drive. Sometimes I sing and I don't want to stop because I get lost in the music and nothing else exists but the song and the microphone. True, it's nice to get the compliments afterward, but the real joy for me is in the moment when it's me and the lyrics and melody and my soul. I enjoy spending time with men but I can't seem to get them to do more than one date. Seems I'm excellent friend material. Sure, they like to tell me I'm beautiful and lots tell me they like my big tits. *roll eyes* but I'm never more than that unless they are hoping to get some, then I'm exactly what they want in that moment. Sometimes even that is enticing.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But then everyone goes out with their special someones and they post pictures of couple selfies and facebook status updates and anniversaries and happy family outings and I go home to Sissy. And pacing AB who talks at you never with you. And poor WG who is trying very hard to stay positive because I am trying to do the same and all the while it is a facade because I'm living life as an impostor. I want what everyone else wants or has. When I pretend that I do, it feels so nice for a little while. <br /><br />Sissy is still Sissy. She had a huge tantrum this evening complete with head banging and screaming for 45 minutes. WG didn't say, but I bet she raised her fist to strike. WG hid in my room behind a locked door and AB went to his room until I got home and Sissy was walking about when I got there acting like everyone else was in the wrong and I laid into her. Walked through the door and went off like a cannon. Didn't physically hit her but I hit her hard with words of truth about her actions, her choices and where they were going to land her happy little ass because yes I WILL call 911 and demand they take her if she pulls this stunt again. And she will. She's been doing this shit all along while I've been gaily pretending I'm living someone else's life. While I've hoped and dreamed that there would be a man strong enough to love me despite the truth of my family. And oh, the hurt that these aren't even MY kids, except they are, but yeah, I'm quick to let people know I didn't birth this. And that is real shitty too, isn't it?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So there it is. Truth. I've been playing everyone, especially myself. It's not happy. It's not pretty. It sucks, I hate it, I'm lonely, and Sissy can hurry up and turn 18 so she can be gone and I can be free finally. I hope we can still be friends because I really like the amazing new people in my life but there it is. I'm not so amazing. I'm floundering, struggling, shrinking, trying, grasping at straws, barely staying afloat, hating, hurting, all of the above and more. I'm an impostor.</div>
Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com71tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-58499145273273508402017-06-27T10:33:00.001-07:002017-06-27T10:40:38.191-07:00Never Had a ThingI've been singing karaoke a lot lately. I've done some open mic with my friend too. It's nice to be back to my musical nature and I enjoy the praise. Yes, I love singing and I love that my talent makes people smile. So I thought I would try my hand at some song lyrics too. Reading through it, I think I sing a little too much Adele. ;) All her songs about unrequited love have gotten under my skin.<br />
<br />
<br />
<u>Never Had a Thing</u><br />
I see the pictures and I weep<br />
For the loss<br />
For the pain<br />
For what could have been<br />
Or for what never was?<br />
Hidden in the smiles<br />
Are unspoken thoughts.<br />
Echoes of the heart<br />
Speaking truth.<br />
You had it all.<br />
You had it all.<br />
You never had a thing.<br />
<br />
Grains of sand through fingertips<br />
All running<br />
All sifting<br />
All on pavements bare<br />
Or was it never there?<br />
Beautiful, lovely as could be<br />
The only smile is yours<br />
It warms my heart<br />
Now it's gone<br />
Now it's gone<br />
Now the empty sings.<br />
<br />
I see. I see what you lost<br />
I feel it for you,<br />
In the pictures, in your voice<br />
In the wandering.<br />
You never say it but I will.<br />
You had it all.<br />
You had it all.<br />
You never had a thing.<br />
<br />
I stand on the edge wondering<br />
Will you hear<br />
will you see<br />
Will you know my love?<br />
Oh you know, my Love.<br />
Standing, on the side, waiting.<br />
The eye smile is mine<br />
Begging your heart<br />
Be mine.<br />
Be mine.<br />
Be the song in my soul.<br />
<br />
I see. I see what you lost<br />
I feel it for you,<br />
In the pictures, in your voice<br />
In the wandering.<br />
You never say it but I will<br />
You had it all.<br />
You had it all.<br />
You never had a thing.<br />
<br />
I see. Do you see it too?<br />
I feel it for you<br />
Will you feel it in your heart<br />
In that wandering?<br />
You never say it but I will<br />
I had it all.<br />
I had it all.<br />
I never had a thing.<br />
<br />
You had it all<br />
I wanted it too.<br />
We never had a thing.<br />
<br />
You had it all<br />
I wanted you<br />
But lord, lord, we never had a thing.<br />
You had it all<br />
I wanted you<br />
We never had a thing.<br />
<br />
<br />
*copyright laws apply. Poetry is original work of blog author*<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-65260869545097861752017-04-16T08:29:00.002-07:002017-04-16T08:29:33.350-07:00WILLHow are things with Sissy?<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We have good days and bad days. If she had her druthers, they would all be bad days. She tries hard to make it so! Seems she has become hard wired to only know how to be challenging, stick provoking, and refusing to follow any direction. It's going to be a hard adult life for her which is disappointing because I have tried to give her the tools she needs to be as successful as she is capable of being.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The timer is counting down to 18 when things begin to shift. She's had an updated psychological evaluation by social security which has determined her eligible for disability. (That is always nerve wracking for me because I know she's disabled but will the federal government agree based on their paid cronies that analyze the results of their prescribed reviews?) That evaluation gets sent to a host of entities in our community that are purported to offer assistance programs like vocational rehabilitation and the department of mental health and developmental delay. The plan is to find an assisted living type facility. The ideal was to have things move before 18 but the cogs of the wheels turn slowly so it may be another year yet. *deep cleansing breath*</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
She is working with another community service specialist that is teaching her life skills. Sissy still refuses hygiene of any kind and would rather pretend that she is five and live her life at that speed indeterminably. Of course, her therapist and I have reassured her 1,000x a session that she WILL be 18, she WILL be an adult, she WILL need to be responsible to some degree.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Her education is a bone of contention. I see no value in her continuing until she achieves a diploma and at the rate she is going, that won't be until 20 or 21. She won't be a wage earning tax payer beyond some cursory vocation that earns her a marginal wage that doesn't interfere with her social security income. And to that end, even though she has the ability to do a task that requires some intellectual prowess, she won't. The thought has come up to just let it go, let her move on to a facility without ever finishing her education but some of these facilities insist on a completion of education in some fashion. The other thought is that Sissy may have the ability to finish her education with a GED instead. It's not a mystery, she is smart enough to do that! But WILL she? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The core issue to all of these things as Sissy approaches this huge milestone is her WILL. She is hell bent to make sure that her WILL won't match her ability. There has been many moments when her therapist has had to step back and breathe because she has wanted to walk away in sheer exasperation with Sissy. After all of these years, we have finally gotten ourselves a therapist that is able and willing to go the distance with us, two years and counting, Ms L has become family. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The more "beautiful" moments with Sissy in therapy include her squeezing her eyes tightly to force tears, covering her ears and screaming, "leave me alone!" Ms L and I try not to get angry and irritated at Sissy's flat refusal to participate but many times Aspie Boy chimes in and tells her to stop and just do her therapy like she's supposed to. Of course, that often incites further riot followed by "Shut Up Aspie Boy! This is MY therapy session! Butt out! It's none of your business!!!" Followed by Ms L and I replying almost in unison, "Oh, but Sissy you make it EVERYONE's business when you scream and shout and refuse to be different, actively continuing to bring harm to your family." And Sissy says with venom in a calm, controlled tone, "So you're saying I'm TRYING to hurt my family?!?!" Then Ms L or I will say to one another, "look at that, all the tears are done..." It's funny when you're not in the moment but it's not funny when you're seated at the table with her, repeating this exact scenario every Monday evening for two straight years. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But who's counting?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-61672744505530685422017-04-09T09:46:00.001-07:002017-04-09T09:47:20.520-07:00Inside the mind of PTSDAre we all souls at a state of unrest? We hear talk of the dead coming back to haunt because they have unfinished business. When people die we wish that they rest in peace because maybe some don't. We seldom mention the living being at the same state of mind largely because we still have time to settle ourselves. And if we can't?<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I know, I'm a rhetorical pundit, but that's only because these thoughts rumble through my head like a battered dump truck that has hauled one too many loads of rocks and rubble from a dig site to an undisclosed offload site. In my mind, the offload site doesn't exist so the rocks and rubble of my thoughts pile up in various places of my frontal lobe only to be removed and hauled to another part of the same cerebrum region; an infinitesimal loop of digging, hauling, and dumping the discord of my mind.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Where am I? I'm in an eddy of life, one of those swirl pools in a bubbling creek where water effortlessly glides over smoothed granite stones while leaves and pollen get caught up and slowly spin in a rock outcropping from the force of the current that flows past it. It's not a terrible place to be but the water can stagnate. I've often wondered if after the years of so much trauma and stress I have become accustomed to that pace and subconsciously crave it, like longing to be in the fast paced current of the creek, perpetually bubbling over the granite stones, racing onward to nowhere in particular but moving nonetheless. I've read a few cursory studies that have demonstrated that brain chemistry is altered for PTSD sufferers and therapists agree that the best way to come out of the adrenaline high from the racing stress-induced pace of life as a result of trauma, is to force oneself to be quiet and rest. Easier said than done. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Sunday mornings are the hardest. I hate the solitude of it, waking alone, sipping coffee alone, ruminating about the things that need to be done before a new work week starts, accidentally making myself anxious, wondering if I will be alone for the rest of my life, scrolling through endless facebook posts, deleting email, trying to brighten my mood with good music, opting to sit on the deck and listen to nature's music, petting the dog's head, thinking about the to-do list and being frustrated that it is always just me to get those items checked off, longing for companionship, texting people just to feel connected to other souls, dreading when Sissy wakes up because I can't tolerate her drama any more, feeling frustrated that I can't just enjoy what I currently have because life is actually really good right now, realizing that I'm stuck in that loop in my brain again, wishing beyond hope that I could be a soul at rest finally. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I chastise myself for not enjoying what I currently have, for being incapable of just being. I remind myself that I have overcome enormous obstacles and that I'm OK. I stop and breathe and let my temporal lobe absorb the sensory stimulation instead of stagnating in the cognitive frontal lobe. I allow a slow smile to creep across my face. A friend replies with a text message and I feel connected again. Wonder girl giggles in her room at a video she is watching. The dog harrumphs at me for not continuing to pet her head. I feel my blood pressure drop and the anxiety fade. I put on Reiki soothing music or I do a meditation. I tell myself positive affirmations. I recount the amazing things I have done in my life time and remind myself that I have overcome impossible obstacles. I hear the wind chime and watch squirrels chase each other from a branch on one tree to a branch on another tree, forty feet in the air. I hear the rumble of a motorcycle and think, "good for them, it's a beautiful day for a ride," then I plan to take a drive in the mustang with the top down. I hear someone's yard blower and say, "add that to the to-do list but don't panic about it, you LIKE yard work, it's soothing and gives you a sense of accomplishment." Another text comes in and it's a second friend wishing me a good morning. I feel loved because I have so many amazing friends</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I don't want to be alone forever. My little soul can't handle it. I wasn't created to be just one, I have always been a lover, a romantic, the marrying kind. I want to give to someone and find comfort in a warm embrace of unconditional love. I want to have a Sunday morning on my back deck with coffee for two. Two people to accomplish the to-do list, another soul to breathe the air with me and giggle about the nutty squirrels. Another person to have great ideas about how to spend a day or what flowers to plant in the front or to grumble about cutting the red tips. Someone else to say, "hey, we should walk the canal today," or "let's be slugs and stay in bed all day, Monday is almost here." I will myself to be at peace even though it's only me, every day, all day, knowing that I can't make love come and that happiness can only come from within, not from another person.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This is what it is to be in the mind of someone that is recovering from PTSD. I have endured some incredible trauma that should have rendered me helpless but I chose to overcome and be the best me I can be, every second of every day. The mother of one of my students is currently doing research on mice with PTSD. The preliminary findings are that the hippocampus region of the brain is smaller and has fewer neurotransmitters and those neurotransmitters that exist don't fire signals correctly. When I heard the results of her research I cried because of the validation. I kept saying that my brain doesn't work right, that I have to work around the erroneous messages in my brain and it's true. I do.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
PTSD manifests differently for sufferers. Clearly our soldiers that have been in combat have a distinctly different form of PTSD than people that have endured other traumas. Treatment is unique to the individual and should not be taken lightly. For me, through therapy, I have managed to eliminate every trigger except one, being called by my full name "Jennifer". If I can't overcome that trigger, then I will likely legally change my name but that is a huge decision and not one that I take lightly. One of the biggest challenges I still face is the anger of having a traumatized brain, the frustration of fighting with my thoughts and the difficulty it creates in finding a place of rest and solace regardless of my circumstances. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
For my readers that caught up with this blog in the beginning, when things were so hard with Sissy, the answer to your unspoken question is, "Yes, raising a damaged child with so many mental health issues and the resultant behaviors from those issues caused long term exposure to stress and trauma that exacerbated my PTSD." Although Sissy has control over how she responds and she openly chooses to respond poorly, actively defying her therapy goals, it no longer causes me further anger, I just shake my head in exasperation and walk away, removing the impetus for her defiance. But raising a disabled daughter is not my only trauma. I had a traumatic abusive childhood followed by a traumatic abusive marriage. By all accounts, I shouldn't be as functional as I am and to that end, I give myself measures of grace and mercy.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
If you or someone you know suffers from PTSD, I hope this post helps you understand what it is like inside the mind, the daily battle that occurs there, the struggle to keep balance mentally and emotionally, even with tools like pharmaceuticals and therapy. I have gotten to a good, safe place in my journey and for the first time in my life feel like I am the one in control of my destiny. It has taken me years, hard work, persistence, and the internal motivation to be better. I can't undo the trauma to my brain, but I now know how to function well despite it. Please give someone with PTSD a hug today and tell them they are doing a great job. Like me, they may feel like their soul will always be in a state of unrest, regardless of the beauty, life, and love that surrounds them.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-19959690197223061042017-03-13T18:13:00.001-07:002017-03-13T18:13:18.031-07:00ResistingThat which we resist, persists. ~Carl Jung<br />
<br />
I heard this quote in a podcast Saturday and it has stuck with me. What am I resisting? What things am I still hoping for in life that have come to fruition because of my reticence? What am I allowing to persist in my life as a result?<br />
<br />
Although the situation of my life has radically changed because I have driven the wild horses pulling the chariot of my life like a slave woman escaping her tormentor, racing to freedom because her life depends upon it, I haven't achieved the happiness in my soul that I desire. The ease of life and laughter evade me. The desire for connected, meaningful companionship persists. Jung would say it is because I resist both just as I claim to long for them.<br />
<br />
How then, does this resisting manifest? I'm speaking to myself in an effort to make sense of the mind through yet one more pathway in life that I have yet to see come to fruition, the writing of a book so many have suggested that I compile finally. If I write as I think, perhaps I will find the answer, like pulling a thread and unraveling a cloth, the answer is in me, it always has been and I will find it as I write or ponder and hopefully not unravel completely.<br />
<br />
As I drove to work this morning, I asked myself these questions, already buoyed by the comments on my revival post to the blog, the things I once desired began to flood my heart and the fog in my head started to lift. I wanted to write a book once upon a time. I wanted to get my doctorate. I wanted to have a happy home and marriage, a companionship with a partner that rivaled the best of friendships and children that were accomplishing their goals as they marched toward adulthood. I wanted to get out of our city and see places, meet people, see the world. What stopped me?<br />
<br />
Grad school. Ya'll, it kicked my butt! I still feel like I'm recovering three months later.<br />
<br />
Parenting Sissy. Most days with her are better but then there are these bits of time, sometimes days on end, when she is still hard as Hades and I cry my way to work.<br />
<br />
Work. Being a single parent and working full time is HARD. <br />
<br />
Dating. It has stolen my faith and trust that there are decent humans out there seeking the same end goal as I am. <br />
<br />
I drove, I thought, I asked myself what I am resisting and the answer seems to be that I am resisting success. Yet by all accounts, I am successful already. I have accomplished some impossible feats in the last three years, dragging my family kicking and screaming to a higher station in life. I say I resist success because in my mind, I don't see myself that way. I see myself as still struggling because that's how I feel on a daily basis, like I'm still in the fight for my life, for survival, for peace, for hope. It's a lie of course, but old habits die hard and as my physician said it, when we are in stressful situations for extended periods of time (in my case, for years,) the body adapts and accepts that as the new norm for functioning. It takes time to retrain the body and mind to function at the new baseline of normal which is to live successfully in a stress-free environment.<br />
<br />
So I resist stress-less life too. Thus the mental stress persists. <br />
<br />
As I drove, (it's 25 minutes to work every day and 40 minutes home with evening traffic), I let my mind imagine what it would feel like to achieve the other successes I once longed for. Who would I be? What persona would I have? What kind of mate would be a good match for that woman? Where is the love in my soul? Can I still bond with others? What else do I resist?<br />
<br />
I resist love. Thus lovelessness persists.<br />
<br />
Love has been unsafe for me in every way. From a parent, to a spouse, to raising my challenged kids, to dating life. Love has proven to be a red herring yet I long for it. I see it in others' lives and I want it, desperately. What is it like to be loved unconditionally? I have no idea. I can say that I try to love unconditionally but do I really? It starts with self-love and am I loving myself unconditionally, with abandon and forgiveness, grace and mercy, patience and kindness? No. I'm so hard on myself. Just read these words I'm writing! It smacks of self-loathing even though I am trying to find the answers to why I can't achieve love and why happiness seems so distant.<br />
<br />
I resist happiness. Thus sorrow persists.<br />
<br />
Happiness is scary because in my story, it disappears eventually. Oh, it likes to show up from time to time but it doesn't stick around. Sissy hates happiness. We can be enjoying a great time as a family but Sissy will nip that shit in the butt as quickly as it starts. Happiness for me, is always chased with a swift kick in the ass, a reminder that happiness is not allowed. That's dark and perhaps melodramatic. It's not intended to be, remember, I'm writing this post as a stream of consciousness and I am literally letting my unconscious dig through the mind to uncover the truths I'm avoiding. So yes, happiness in my life has not been allowed though I long for it. I try to create it. It doesn't stay, it is a facade. No, that's not quite right. It is transparent - present and not present at the same time.<br />
<br />
I resist truth. Thus falsehoods persist.<br />
<br />
The truth is, I'm an incredible woman but it is next to impossible for me to wear that truth, own it, digest it, be it. So the lies creep in. A few weeks ago I did an experiment. I went about my day reminding myself that I am a confident, capable woman that is lovable, desirable, and beautiful. It was amazing! I felt like I could do anything and people were drawn to me like moths to a flame. It was a paradigm shift that lasted four days then slowly, slowly, the lies crept back in and I believed I wasn't worth anything again. Dang it those old haunts in my head!<br />
<br />
I resist new paradigms. Thus old pathways persist.<br />
<br />
This one I can do something about. I can keep doing those daily affirmations. It wasn't hard and it worked. *a smile just slowly crept across my face as I stopped and repeated those words in my head* I can keep doing those daily affirmations and you know what will happen? I'll tell you exactly what will happen, I just saw into the looking glass because I unraveled every last bit...<br />
<br />
When I accept the new paradigm, I will be able to accept truth. When I accept the truth about who I am, I will accept the happiness of that truth. When I accept the happiness, I will be able to accept love. When I accept love then the stress will fade into nothing.<br />
<br />
It starts right now.Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-3807751384424875802017-03-12T18:31:00.001-07:002017-03-12T18:53:58.274-07:00I'm Still Here!It took me half a day to figure out how to log back in. *rolling eyes at self*<br />
<br />
Updates:<br />
<br />
House sold in October 2014<br />
Sissy went to PRTF in October 2014<br />
Moved in November 2014<br />
Sissy discharged from her last hospitalization in April 2015<br />
I'm working full time teaching high school biology at a local school since July 2015<br />
Grad school finished in December 2016 with a 3.83 GPA<br />
Still single<br />
Sissy is 17<br />
AB is 16<br />
WG is 12<br />
<br />
Let's see if I still have anyone out there hoping I might post again one day...Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-87388645613775157612014-09-23T14:24:00.000-07:002014-09-23T14:24:20.489-07:00My essay for Grad School<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/>
<w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
<w:Word11KerningPairs/>
<w:CachedColBalance/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><br />
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="267">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin-top:0in;
mso-para-margin-right:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt;
mso-para-margin-left:0in;
line-height:115%;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:11.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;}
</style>
<![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:shapedefaults v:ext="edit" spidmax="1026"/>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:shapelayout v:ext="edit">
<o:idmap v:ext="edit" data="1"/>
</o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> My application to grad school to get my state certification was denied because my gpa was 1/100 of a point too low. In order to submit my application for review to the exceptions committee, I had to write an essay and have others write letters of recommendation for me. (many thank yous to everyone's amazing letters!!!!) The following is my essay. </b></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
When I adopted my first child, who is now
fourteen, I had to make the difficult decision to take a break from education
because she suffers from severe mental illness and developmental delay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At that time, the founder and director of the
school I had been teaching at for many years said to me, “You’ll be back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once a teacher, always a teacher.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I smiled sweetly thinking I probably would
not return and walked out of the building with a box of the few personal items
I had in my classroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember
thinking to myself, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">am I a teacher?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Everyone has an educator or two from their time as
a student that stands out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For me, those
educators had an indelible impact on my life because they did more than teach a
subject, they taught me as a person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Mrs. Watkins, my AP English teacher, taught me I was a strong writer
with excellent thoughts to share.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mr.
Badorf, my Algebra I and II teacher taught me to never surrender to the will of
numbers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mr. Pillion, my Calculus
teacher, taught me that education is fun and exciting and even more so when the
educator has fun too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mr. Rissinger, my
Geometry teacher, taught me I was an astute educator when he let me hold tutoring
sessions in the back of the classroom for the students that struggled in his
class.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mrs. Richardson, my second grade
teacher, taught me that loving a student is the most profound thing an educator
can do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mrs. Johansen, my third grade
teacher, showed me how to laugh through the trials.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mrs. Gainer, Physics and AP Physics, taught
me that women in science are desirable, strong and vivacious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I think upon it now, it is clear that I
was learning what it meant to be an educator and that such a career would also
be my calling.</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
When I applied to college, my intentions were to
get a degree in pre-medicine and go on to medical school. I had set my sights
on being a family practitioner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
no small feat for me to be accepted into the program as a seventeen year old
freshman at the main campus of Pennsylvania State University.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In 1992, only the top performing students
were accepted; the caliber of education provided by the College of Science was
equal to the Ivy League schools of the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Though I was a chronological year younger than my academic peers because
I was accelerated a grade, I was confident I could master the coursework.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What I hadn’t anticipated was the struggles I
would have in learning in lecture halls of 800 students from professors that
were more interested in their current scientific research than in
educating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Consequently, my core science
grades faltered, though I took no personal offense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An average grade at an Ivy League caliber
program was still an amazing achievement!</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Late in my college career, I attended a medical
ethics course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The physician that taught
the course was very clear in his intent of informing his potential professional
colleagues that the future of medicine would change drastically as major
insurance companies and politics would eventually control the way medicine
would be practiced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That same semester,
I took a Health Education course which plied me with the harsh realities of the
then up-and-coming HMO programs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Coupled
with my average grade point average, it became clear that continuing my pursuit
of medicine as a career was not in my best interest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
In my junior year, I began my minor in Community
Health Education.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the same time, I
was carrying a course load of 400 level Biology classes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a whirlwind of no less than 15 credits a
semester, I managed to graduate on schedule with both a major in Biology and a
minor in Community Health Education and an internship at University Hospital in
Augusta, Georgia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I intended to pursue a
career in health care management as an educator of preventative medicine for
the patients and communities at large.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was excited and anticipated a bright future for myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With my minor, my grade point average had
risen significantly and I felt prepared for the work force.</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
As I wrapped up my senior year, anxiously
anticipating my graduation, I helped host a final exam block party for my
dormitory, my last hurrah as a Resident Assistant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There I taught the study-weary students how
to make tie-dye t-shirts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of the
other RAs remarked, “Wow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are a
really good teacher.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think you missed
your calling!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember how her
thoughts stopped me dead in my tracks as though it was yesterday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stood there, speechless and dumbfounded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was about to be awarded my long coveted
Bachelor’s of Science and in one lackadaisical comment, she had shifted my
entire paradigm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I tried hard to land a job in Community Health
Education anyway; having moved to the Augusta, Georgia area shortly after my
degree was conferred.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was greeted with
only closed doors and no opportunity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Eight months post graduation, dejected and unemployed, my student loan
repayment plan beginning; I had a conversation with the woman that became my
long time employer and friend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was
starting a new private school and needed a science teacher.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I smiled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Thus began my seventeen years of middle and secondary science and
mathematics education.</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
In the private sector, a certificate is not
required provided the instructor has a minimum of a Bachelor’s degree in the
field in which she is teaching.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though I
took time off as I became a mother and raised my small children and then when
my daughter’s care required that I take an emergency family medical leave, I have
taught with glee, pride and excitement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am a teacher, I was born to teach, it is my calling, it is my passion
and it never feels like work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I get
giddy talking about my time in the classroom with my students.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My students will attest, I might get a little
bit crazy when I get really involved demonstrating a science experiment or
dissecting with students that have never seen the internal structure of an
organism before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The best Christmas
presents you can gift this science teacher are supplies to restock my chemistry
cabinet!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
In my career, I have worked with many challenged
students.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have taught students on
probation, students that were remanded to alternative school, students
recovering from drug and alcohol abuse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Pregnant students, physically handicapped students, students with
learning disabilities, developmental delay and mental health challenges have
all sat in my room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have taught them
all in the same manner that I teach an able-bodied, intellectually capable
student.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It makes no difference to
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I differentiate instruction
according to each student’s needs even if that means she needs to sit on the
floor at the white board with a clip board in her lap instead of at the desk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I modify tests for dyslexic students that
need colored paper and I orally read tests to students that have reading
challenges but know the science content.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I go out of my way to make sure that every student in my classroom has
the same opportunity to absorb the material I am presenting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I consider it a personal challenge to be
certain that every student passes on his own merit.</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
There are no losers in my classroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are no negative statements.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If a student is down in the mouth about his
performance, I tell him a minimum of six positive things about him. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If a student tells me she hates science, I
reply, “you haven’t had my class yet!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If a parent tells me his child has always struggled, I ask “what is her
education history?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When did you first
notice her grades faltering?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If a
student is disruptive and needs discipline, I talk to him privately and we set
up a plan between the two of us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If my
colleagues can’t handle a student, they know to send her to my classroom with
her work and I will be sure it is completed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My students have always remarked that the favorite part of being in my
room is the light bulb.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When a student
says something that is particularly astute, clever, asks a good question or
solves a difficult problem, they get the light bulb.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then, I make sure that by the end of a school
year, every one of my students has gotten the light bulb at least once. We have
fun, we laugh, we tell jokes, we become family all while learning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It makes for a dynamic classroom that
students love to return to, even if they are not fond of the subject matter.</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Until recently, it was never a concern that I was
not certified and teaching part time at a small private school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, life changes and I have now found
myself in the difficult situation of single parenting three children, two of
which suffer from severe developmental delay and mental health issues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At this time, it has become necessary that I
become certified so I can continue my career in the public schools, increase my
income, receive benefits and hopefully advance my career to teaching future educators
at the university level.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are many
programs available to educators in situations like mine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have chosen GRU for the MAT program because
of the flexibility and location.</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
As you read through my recommendation letters from
my colleagues, my former students and parents of my students, you will learn as
I have, that some teachers are born to teach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You will discover that a certificate is just a piece to the puzzle for
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am passionate about my content
area but compassionate about all of my students.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am that rare educator that lives and
breathes the essence of learning every day, in every way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the beginning and end of every school year
I affirm to my students that the day I die is the day I will stop
learning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tell them it is my hope, if
I teach them nothing else that they learn to ask why because that is the true
key to learning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I encourage them to be
curious and skeptical, to think outside the box, to research and explore, to
never stop learning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then I let them
teach me in return.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am Ms. J.
S.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am 40 years old and have
seventeen years of education experience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am an educator with or without a certificate from the state of Georgia
and the MAT program offered at this university.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-77243679115569390522014-09-14T12:42:00.004-07:002014-09-14T12:43:08.173-07:00BelieveClearly the start to the new school year has kept me busy. It's been over a month since my last post.<br />
<br />
WG broke her arm when she fell off a horse at riding. We already had to stop cross country because although it was intramural, it wasn't for general students. The team was for homeschool only. In addition, managing AB and Sissy during practices was overwhelming me.<br />
<br />
I've kept running though. I put in 15 miles this week. My goal is 20. I finally broke the 60 pound plateau and am cruising toward continued weight loss. Fat? No more. Today I stand strong and confident. I am one amazing woman.<br />
<br />
Sissy is escalating quickly, par for the course for a new school year. I am actively pursuing getting her a placement at this point. She is extremely difficult to manage at home and at school. She won't toilet appropriately so she is wetting herself and therefore required to wear pull ups. Her tantrums are louder, longer and more frequent. She is stealing, manipulating and lying more frequently. Hygiene sends her for a tail spin. It's time. No more. Today I stand strong and confident that she will get her mental health needs met, even in this broken state. I am one amazing woman.<br />
<br />
AB has had some med adjustments as a preemptive move to keep him from evaluation. He has had significant difficulty staying present and in reality. I am trying very hard to do the same. There is a very real possibility that schizophrenia will be an eventual diagnosis for him. I used to be so anxious and worried about these things. No more. Today I stand strong and confident. I am one amazing woman.<br />
<br />
I have had many job interviews, I have another one tomorrow, in fact, but no job offers. I am still tutoring and even picked up a new student. Of course, I still provide respite for special needs adults. However, those opportunities provide the petty cash for the unexpected and aren't beneficial in paying down debts or big bills. Still, I am grateful for those financial opportunities. Always grateful. I may not have a job but I am strong and confident. I am one amazing woman.<br />
<br />
I expect to get a letter from the local university with my acceptance to grad school for spring 2015. I spoke with them early last week and was assured letters would be mailed out by the end of the week. I had to chase the staff at the university. Two hours, four buildings and ten people later, someone finally found my application, a month after I mailed it. Three weeks after that, I still haven't gotten my final acceptance letter. I am weary of chasing tails. If people could just do their jobs... No more. Today I get what I want because I am strong and confident. I am one amazing woman.<br />
<br />
I passed my content exam with flying colors - professional standard level to be exact. I was really nervous about it, doubting my ability. No more. Today I stand strong and confident. I am one amazing woman.<br />
<br />
The house hasn't sold. I lowered the price significantly to offset the cost of repairs required to maintain the exterior of the home. It generated more interest, we even had two interested buyers return for second showings but no offers.<br />
<br />
I filed a contempt of court order against my ex. He was served yesterday. I'm done with his shenanigans. He has been out of this house since January 2012, the divorce finalized Mar 2013, it's time he is done and out of my hair and complying. I can't take it any more. I've been more than patient. No more. Today I stand strong and confident. I am one amazing woman.<br />
<br />
The last nine and a half months have been the hardest of my life. I have not enjoyed it but it has made me strong and confident. It has helped me see what an amazing woman I am. It has given me the power to believe in the impossible. To dare to dream. To hope. To see what is true and real about myself and others. There is still SO MUCH that is not done, accomplished, finished. There is SO MUCH I want and need from this life that hasn't happened and shows no signs of happening anytime soon. There is SO MUCH.<br />
<br />
I choose to believe. I am strong. I am confident. I am one amazing woman.Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-30568925553080981532014-08-04T06:05:00.001-07:002014-08-04T08:16:12.453-07:00A Sky Full of StarsWell, the summer is over. The kids go back to school on Wednesday. Sissy was awake before 6 a.m. Getting ready to get back into the school routine? Um...no. More like getting ready to drive us all insane with her jacked up back-to-school jitters. Wow. Does this game of hers ever end? She will disobey EVERY instruction. Steal, sneak, lie, it never ends. Every day is a new day, right? Yep. New opportunities to test the limits at every turn. EVERY TURN. Every day if I'm not on my A-game with her she gains the upper hand and usually that means I'm flying into a Rajani Patel induced stream of expletives. [1]<br />
<br />
Am I glad they are headed back to school? Yes. No. It's been an interesting summer. It has been one of the hardest, transformational summers of my life, second only to the final summer my father was alive; watching his body slowly deteriorate from the leukemia until he was gone on the first day of fall. Yes. THAT kind of summer. Only what is slowly deteriorating is the dross and lingering vestiges of a lifetime of abuse and heartache. I have watched the pain and despair slowly float away like the ashes from a bonfire - float, floating, gently disappearing into the cool night sky, one ashy flake at a time until they are all snuffed out and carried away on the wind.<br />
<br />
It has hurt. It has been amazing. I even dare say, the BEST damn summer of my life, though I have gone no where, no vacation save but a wonderful, blissful four days spent on the lake with family and friends - laughing, crying, hugging, longing, learning, teaching, being. Like the Grinch, I think my heart grew four sizes in those four days.<br />
<br />
I have actually worked all summer, tutoring three young men all with a difficult life story leading them to a place of wanting to just be done with education and ready to move on to adulthood. It is the greatest privilege to be an educator, to have the opportunity to influence young lives and to learn from them in like kind. Oh, I have learned! One student, in particular, has absolutely captured my heart. What a smart young man! Possibly one of the fastest learners I've ever had. He can snatch up a math concept in a heart beat all while he sings "math, math, I hate math" Love him. SO much. Maybe too much because I find myself wanting to rescue him from the minor blunders and pitfalls young men find themselves in as they learn how to become adults, stretch their wings and fly. This one can go places, achieve amazing heights, but he lacks the confidence in himself. I hope I have begun to teach him that as well - that he CAN. Oh my, can he!!!<br />
<br />
See? My heart stolen dead away by students, once again. When they become more than students to me, it is a magical dynamic. This is why I know I'm an educator, why I can't give it up. This is why the summer has been so hard in equal measure for how beautiful it has been. I wanted to teach, I wanted to be away from this present reality, I wanted more for Sissy and AB than what appears to be available for them here both in their present need and in their future need as adults themselves. I wanted friends and family and hope. I wanted to start over, clean slate, new house, new life, freedom. At the beginning of the summer I was convinced I had to move on to find what I needed. Now I'm not so sure.<br />
<br />
On the 15th I take the content exam. I know I will pass. With a passing score, I can apply to openings for Biology teacher positions and a school can request a provisional certificate while I work on my Master's in Education. Yes, I will go the distance and get my Doctorate too. My application is at the local university, I wait only for them to send my acceptance. I know I will get into the program. I have sent more than 22 applications for employment and I wait for a job, preferably as a paraprofessional while I work on my degree so I don't have to juggle both the tasks of lesson plans and prep while I study. I wait but it is just a matter of time and door knocking before I find a job. I hope it is soon though, money is running out.<br />
<br />
At the end of the month, my sister will be here. We are joining forces. No more will the loneliness overtake me, there will be another adult body in my life, helping when and how she can and if nothing more, just being present. The loneliness of single parenting is stifling. AB and Sissy aren't typical teenagers that talk and share their ideas, create their own social lives with friends coming and going, giggling and video game playing. I don't dwell on the reality that my teenagers are atypical teens but it is hard to ignore the obvious disparity when I have teen students in my home being typical and my children suddenly appear very...different. When everyone goes home at the end of a day, I find myself sitting in my Adirondak chairs breathing and pushing away the sorrow that AB and Sissy will always be different and that their differences can be isolating for ALL of us. <br />
<br />
I've discovered that there are indeed, some very wonderful, blessed friends that have willingly jumped into this life with me. Breath of fresh air to the point of tears. So thankful. My heart is bursting. Sure, every morning and every night I am alone with the kids but during the daytime, I have friends that go the distance with me, if even through text and FB, knowing that those lifelines carry me through. It is an old habit carried over from the residue of abuse, for me to assume that my neediness is annoying. These friends know I'm not needy, I just carry an enormous burden that overwhelms me and instead of berating me, they encourage me. You can't possibly know how amazing that truth is unless you have walked the miles I have walked. Now, I look up and see a sky full of stars smiling at me instead of miles of darkness weighing down on my heart and soul. For these friends, my children are joys, even in the difficult moments. And that brings me tears of happiness too, that despite the struggle, a handful people of can see the prevailing goodness in Sissy and AB that I see.<br />
<br />
The house isn't sold. I don't think it will sell until I can do some significant repairs to the exterior. I can't do significant repairs until I have more solvency so that is the current goal, make money, fix the house, try again. I want to be out of here for the simple fact that it currently financially connects me to my ex. I need this divorce to be done, it has been two and a half years of misery AFTER the fact! With strong encouragement, I finally got the strength to dismiss my ex from my house with the exception of the overnight weekends the divorce decree orders him in my home every other month. That is another goal, to save money for a lawyer so I can go back to court and change that as well. If in two and a half years, a grown man can't get on his feet and establish himself in such a way that his children can come visit him in HIS home or to pay his child support in a timely fashion, then he isn't going to. He never will. I'm done. Running away to a state 750 miles from here isn't going to change him and it isn't going to give me the strength to grow some cahones and deal with his shit head on. So I stand firm. I take back my power. Just as I want my student to see that he can, I am learning that I can. I CAN! I am.<br />
<br />
All that remains then, is what becomes of Sissy and AB as they rapidly approach that golden number, 18. Once they are 18, the game changes for disabled persons and no matter how I shuffle the cards, all of the other factors, needs and wants seem to be met in my current place EXCEPT what becomes of those two as they transition to adulthood. I love them, I do, but I can't parent them for the rest of my life. I want them to have autonomy in whatever degree is possible for them and frankly, I want freedom from this burden. No mother is meant to parent functional 5 and 8 year old children endlessly. That isn't my calling. So, with 3.5 and 4.5 years respectively for these two, I have a little time to sort it out. Thus, I breathe.<br />
<br />
The pivotal moment for me this summer was two days after our lake weekend when my student sat at my table, having heard that we had to conclude tutoring a little early because a realtor was showing the house directly afterward and we all had to clear out. Still on the heart warming wave of joy from the time away, he asked me who would help him if my house sold and I moved away. That's when I realized he stole my heart, ran off with it like a wild banshee shouting ollie-ollie-oxen-free! and that I couldn't possibly leave now. I'm all in. Reduced me to tears, that one did. Or maybe I'm just a weepy, blubbering mess? Longest I've made it since last November without tears is seven days.<br />
<br />
Nah. I'm all in. Damnit.<br />
<br />
WG has started cross country so I signed up to be a volunteer parent. Tonight is timed trials and her first meet is on the 23rd. So, I am running now too which makes me laugh. Guess what? I LIKE it. *shaking head at self* Between swimming and running, in one week I logged 11 miles. And I'm now at 57 pounds lost and counting. New me? Oh yeah. What a life.<br />
<br />
Time to write that book some of you have been begging me to write.<br />
<br />
There is one more "want" on my list. I wait patiently for that one too. The winds of change are blowing gently, bringing warmth, life and hope. Soon. It will come.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/zp7NtW_hKJI/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/zp7NtW_hKJI&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/zp7NtW_hKJI&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
<br />
[1] rajani patel is an alter ego I created several years ago so I don't go batshit crazy when I'm mad. Rajani comes out and I keep my cool...mostly. :D<br />
<br />Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-68681690505473387382014-07-28T20:23:00.001-07:002014-07-28T20:23:43.468-07:00Honk out a Victory CallI keep trying to write a blog post then I delete it when I get half way through. I'm not sure what is happening in my life right now. I'm so very confused. What I thought was the right plan has been turned upside down and dumped out. <br />
<br />
Other things have replaced my days and my thoughts. Now I'm wondering if I made the right choices to pursue those paths? Those doors just opened and I walked through. I thought that was the plan, the direction I was supposed to pursue. Maybe not? I'm questioning myself again.<br />
<br />
Questioning because there are still so few answers. Still no clear direction. I am flying blind when perhaps my feet should be on the ground? Did I take to the clouds in error? I don't think so. If I listen to my heart, my intuition: if I dwell on the things that I've learned this summer, I can trust. But if I look up and beyond, I get dizzy and overwhelmed.<br />
<br />
I don't know what will happen tomorrow. I don't know what job will hire me. I don't know if my house will sell. I don't know if I will find resources for AB and Sissy. I don't know what their adult future will be like. I don't know and it is making me crazy.<br />
<br />
I am registered to take the content exam in Biology so I can demonstrate that I have the knowledge to teach the subject of my Bachelor's degree. I am hand delivering my application to grad school tomorrow for the MAT program (master's of arts in teaching for non majors) and I am contemplating a doctorate in education after that. I have mailed 10 applications locally and had one interview but was already rejected. <br />
<br />
What am I hoping for? I'm hoping for a big break through. I'm hoping that this well I'm digging will eventually hit a natural spring that will fill it endlessly. I'm hoping for my happy day to find me finally. I'm hoping that the many years of pain and anguish and struggle and suffering will finally be over. I'm hoping to wake up and this journey will be over and I will be happily living in my new reality. I'm hoping for peace and love, for companionship and joy. I'm hoping that my fingertips don't break as I cling to this wobbly branch dangling over a cliff. <br />
<br />
I keep marching, I keep smiling, I keep going. I just keep on. What else do I do?<br />
<br />
Is anybody on this journey with me? Is this where you are too? I can't be the only person that is walking through this hellatious year we are calling 2014 wondering what the f*** is happening. If you are flying in the clouds with me, then let's fly in formation and make the journey easier. I'll be the first to take point. And when I see a safe harbor to nest, swim and eat, I'll honk out a victory call. OK?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglKzXjA77AWwaPVQ75eI2H8JVc5h-1DzvwQfBAGfTkRZEsil9KZAE5faec5aVZXV5tBidwWa-BH7G9kQKaMkVdna2WGFFpMQ-7pMnCIvQEb0ibaiDvdZl8XQidXIPZVCEaWo0o9E26JAZO/s1600/geese+flying.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglKzXjA77AWwaPVQ75eI2H8JVc5h-1DzvwQfBAGfTkRZEsil9KZAE5faec5aVZXV5tBidwWa-BH7G9kQKaMkVdna2WGFFpMQ-7pMnCIvQEb0ibaiDvdZl8XQidXIPZVCEaWo0o9E26JAZO/s1600/geese+flying.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-18933895195396689682014-07-17T19:26:00.002-07:002014-07-17T19:28:18.209-07:00Life LessonsWhen I started this blog in November 2009, the puzzles I was trying to find peace with were my children, specifically Sissy and AB with their various mental health and developmental delay issues. At that time, I didn't know that the best way to solve any life puzzle is to start with oneself. Ha ha, joke's on me then because guess which puzzle I've actually been sorting out? ME! The question remains, have I found peace?<br />
<br />
Hmmm... well? yes and no.<br />
<br />
I'll start with the YES's.<br />
<br />
I have peace about my decision to end my abusive marriage. In fact, from what I have learned since Dec 2011, it was a marriage in legal form only. There was nothing marital, communal, intimate, caring, giving, kind, loving, sharing, for better or for worse about it. By definition, it was most definitely NOT a marriage. <br />
<br />
I have peace about my children's disabilities. When it makes me squirrely, I recite the mantra from AlAnon - I didn't cause it, I can't cure it and I can't control it. I can't change it either! Sissy will always be functionally 5, emotionally 2 with a mental capacity just below average which makes her a true puzzle. Some days she says the most intelligent thoughts which are invariably chased by the most absurd and laughable comments. I've' learned to look away so she doesn't see my smile or laugh and when I get a chance, I share her nuggets of gold so others can enjoy them too. I don't do it vindictively, it's more of a coping mechanism, a holy-crap-this-is-the-insanity-i-hear-all-day! <br />
<br />
AB paces and paces and eats and paces and whines and paces and gets irritated and paces and swings and paces and eats and swings and paces and did I mention that he paces? Two weeks ago, after a long, harrowing night with Sissy, AB woke me up at 6:30 to tell me he was awake. OK then. Good to know. Then he went to the backyard and began swinging. By 7:00 he was back at my bedside to tell me the swing was broken. Good mom that I am, the first comment...ok. back up. NOT SO GOOD MOM that I am, the first comment was "AB! PLEASE I'M TRYING TO SLEEP!!!" Then the good mom moment, "did you get hurt?" AB who is functionally 8 and intellectually two IQ points above Sissy, god save the queen. How. HOW! I ask you, how in blue blazes do I survive a single day? God only knows.<br />
<br />
I have peace about the very real truth that I DO NOT want to be a grandmother, not by this lot, at least. Now, should a nice gentleman become a part of my life and have children that have children, cool. I'll be a step grammy. No problem. But AB's genetic disorder is sex-linked so the girls are carriers and let's not mention the fact that all of those other developmental delays and mental health issues are often inherited as well. *sigh* So. I have peace about that.<br />
<br />
I have peace that the opportunity to bare biological children was stolen from me. Truth be told, should a nice gentleman come into my life now, even though I'll just be turning 40 in October, there is no way in hell I would want to go back to diaper days. oh my, no. It is what it is, this is the path my life took for better or for worse. So, I choose peace.<br />
<br />
I have peace that my house hasn't sold and every application I sent was rejected. I have peace that for what it is worth, I am still here, in Georgia. Is it what I want? No, not really. So I have chosen to find peace in the truth that as I asked for open doors and I have gotten none, I am here. <br />
<br />
I have peace in my self. I am healed, I am whole, I am light, I am love. I am as I am, right here, right now, in this moment. It has taken me SO MUCH WORK to get to this point. The depression, the anxiety, the fight to want life, the struggle to find my inner strength and beauty, the daily work to make my physical body healthy, the hours and hours of tears and weeping to get to emotional health, the determination to find friends here that fill me up and restore my social health, the struggle to juggle my responsibilities and keep my mental health, I have done it. I am doing it. It is ongoing. It easily falls through my fingers as soon as I let more than a day pass by me without self care. But now I can say that I like the woman I see in the mirror. She smiles back at me and her eyes sparkle.<br />
<br />
Thus we come to the other side of the coin, in what ways does peace evade me?<br />
<br />
At this time, I am so uncertain of the next turn to take in my journey. I have a goal in mind but is that the RIGHT goal? I don't know. I am weary of not having hope and dreams and a future. I'm weary of the uncertainty. I'm weary of the loneliness. I really am not good on my own - its' not a codependent thing like it once was, it is simply that I am a people person. I take so much joy from giving to others just for the sake of giving. And now that I know what a true, dynamic, healthy partnership should look like, I am excited to incorporate that in my life and for my children's lives. The unknown is so hard. <br />
<br />
It feels as though my life has hung in a balance since Feb 2009, when it became painfully clear that my marriage was not going to be salvageable, though I tried. Oh, how I tried! Then a trip to Seattle to see my oldest sister put me on a course to find the things that resonated and filled me up. By November Sissy was hospitalized and my family was launched into the crisis that we are now emerging from. I am ready for this transformation to be complete. I am ready for what wants to come, to come, finally. I am longing for that happiness and fullness of hope that I see others easily abiding in. <br />
<br />
My dreams tell the truth, I am forever travelling while I attempt to sleep. By planes that either break down, can't take off, get delayed or flights get cancelled. By trains that leave the station without me or that make a big circle and take me back to where I started. By cars in which I get put on detours through construction zones and I get lost. By boat in which the motors don't work or I run out of gas or I have to get out because it's sinking or paddles get broken or waterfalls ahead prevent me from continuing.<br />
<br />
funny... i'm just now realizing as I type this that I never try walking away in my dreams. <br />
<br />
All of that to say, I don't really have peace about this present moment in my life for the simple fact that I don't know where I'm going, how I'm going to get there or where I will be when I arrive. I know only that I'm on that road indefinitely and it is pissing me off!<br />
<br />
OK, verbal vomit over. As you were.<br />
<br />
besides, i've been sitting outside typing this and despite the bug spray, they are still eating me and now I have to pee. You're welcome. ;)<br />
<br />
<br />Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-47385128203807799252014-07-11T15:06:00.004-07:002014-07-11T15:06:48.188-07:00For SteveWho is Steve?<br />
<br />
To be honest, I don't know. All I know is Steve is a fellow trauma mom/quilter friend's friend of a neighbor. So technically he is some random man I have never met. According to my friend's FB post yesterday, Steve has been working hard and has lost more than 80 pounds in the past year. Of course, that resonated with me because I'm at 50+ and counting. <br />
<br />
Apparently, an anonymous person left a nasty letter in Steve's mailbox.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKrYp5APrsaWsukXMwcYA7bGUfbVvU44RtJPKm37jQMQr3RkJeGNA-u61Lc4ceGHCCP3PooE9vL8wVXuHVz2Mz0UD43w0WpROnFtoxwl_6xRSwjsM1sNf0R4wrFVrAizz2ZZ-ltXqPcKm2/s1600/mean+neighbor+letter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKrYp5APrsaWsukXMwcYA7bGUfbVvU44RtJPKm37jQMQr3RkJeGNA-u61Lc4ceGHCCP3PooE9vL8wVXuHVz2Mz0UD43w0WpROnFtoxwl_6xRSwjsM1sNf0R4wrFVrAizz2ZZ-ltXqPcKm2/s1600/mean+neighbor+letter.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Well now, that just won't do. It made me mad. Since last August I have been working my ass off, literally, to get fit and healthy. I started by walking in the local park. At first I could only do 1.2 miles and my shorts rubbed my thighs and I sweated like a hog and it wasn't pretty.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Here's me from last October when I had already lost 15 pounds.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Vy91TVnZHWb4ofz9DImRySFGktx22KRgCKyCGJ9FnOMN7eOXB4buHXZr2zezJbmTCfDbg0bD9CPFzIRgu-kR-rA42s5Y0TMdMQGcHZuRFZK4pfYTAxTYVwWReMs6pzZtYSkSdThuOQoj/s1600/20131013_183733.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Vy91TVnZHWb4ofz9DImRySFGktx22KRgCKyCGJ9FnOMN7eOXB4buHXZr2zezJbmTCfDbg0bD9CPFzIRgu-kR-rA42s5Y0TMdMQGcHZuRFZK4pfYTAxTYVwWReMs6pzZtYSkSdThuOQoj/s1600/20131013_183733.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I have dropped a total of four clothing sizes in the past year. I am astounded at my weight loss and how great I feel. Here is the difference from just one month of an ab challenge and swimming 1/4 -1/2 mile daily in the pool. I lost three inches on my waist and another three on my hips. Astounding.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpJSNth4GjgpULr5lrbyDoq-Wzt72VCM5ZwgnixZYmsvsS5HBSUQ-K0NyQpufvwkf7PdGd-m-eHqOkfAHpTzBNDprxb7eMCfq6DtOW4mrNQsvH7l4VzWRIexYzPIsMAR8fgeQzj5ic827u/s1600/20140601_120215.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpJSNth4GjgpULr5lrbyDoq-Wzt72VCM5ZwgnixZYmsvsS5HBSUQ-K0NyQpufvwkf7PdGd-m-eHqOkfAHpTzBNDprxb7eMCfq6DtOW4mrNQsvH7l4VzWRIexYzPIsMAR8fgeQzj5ic827u/s1600/20140601_120215.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-2ounumkgjS1Jv-_v0dpRgioB4m5ZmupNMbgo98z5hMdw7AoIAD2m5Tds9Ocjwtcx0U2W33SIbQhlGWK08BjN-VQFsIlrq0dAL64C7LntDYR-TNupo5lS2xW02qKso_5dWUAmVjZhLG-P/s1600/20140707_222904.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-2ounumkgjS1Jv-_v0dpRgioB4m5ZmupNMbgo98z5hMdw7AoIAD2m5Tds9Ocjwtcx0U2W33SIbQhlGWK08BjN-VQFsIlrq0dAL64C7LntDYR-TNupo5lS2xW02qKso_5dWUAmVjZhLG-P/s1600/20140707_222904.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
Today I put on a size 16 skirt for the first time in 15 years. I am SO happy. So in honor of Steve and his hard work, and in honor of all the other lard asses like me that have decided to do the hard work it takes to get in shape, I decided to do a tribute for him. In sharpie. All over my arms and back and chest. For Steve. For Me. For all Lard Asses.<br />
<br />
So here I am in my buxom, buff, flabby-assed swimwear (that is a 16/18), showing my tail to the world. And the nay-sayers can kiss my ass. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5MnznkYk4kOS4L_YI-b7gjuknWfkDxmH5ELhyphenhyphen80OCazPg1nuSpPNq0BbvavS-GdZEMGWHtcrPv-HcyHi9gVIXuXra6rYT-LHixI4AlFbCwgQT3CGDlRBYVbbATmlU6HuvCgX6VNbSeXT9/s1600/20140711_144210.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5MnznkYk4kOS4L_YI-b7gjuknWfkDxmH5ELhyphenhyphen80OCazPg1nuSpPNq0BbvavS-GdZEMGWHtcrPv-HcyHi9gVIXuXra6rYT-LHixI4AlFbCwgQT3CGDlRBYVbbATmlU6HuvCgX6VNbSeXT9/s1600/20140711_144210.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZdC2ZZM2XEjUOBXwvnarUYRskGUFPm4zak7naeTYOAwv8oQSdvV7s4N1bmW3qow2b5qac1h721Ek7GmTxm2JeISQGg0p4exxno9TcIbAq-FrdMvckU4-T6lhsjXix_x5hstWrOA4mvmNL/s1600/20140711_144238.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZdC2ZZM2XEjUOBXwvnarUYRskGUFPm4zak7naeTYOAwv8oQSdvV7s4N1bmW3qow2b5qac1h721Ek7GmTxm2JeISQGg0p4exxno9TcIbAq-FrdMvckU4-T6lhsjXix_x5hstWrOA4mvmNL/s1600/20140711_144238.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBgk86pBfGJlMJ1hXLmtDRuhh0tiIJ7eTbGhjNs6GOy7ra6Yn9z4R-0qSCFOe2nIxFi10uTIaJ82DqXcbxawIQkavdgltysohyphenhyphenWA-R5UZtcH2IDsps_ohsG0c1DD2dYYcYH6eHMWKboyOT/s1600/20140711_144231.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBgk86pBfGJlMJ1hXLmtDRuhh0tiIJ7eTbGhjNs6GOy7ra6Yn9z4R-0qSCFOe2nIxFi10uTIaJ82DqXcbxawIQkavdgltysohyphenhyphenWA-R5UZtcH2IDsps_ohsG0c1DD2dYYcYH6eHMWKboyOT/s1600/20140711_144231.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpr9Qlp7sWbZPSGbEMMQzgqhBjitx23EqkLtSSsfGGlvaqThEWooLqaP-IywjXMR8vcGgvHMwmMB0AVEqbgTe5NPsvfJ_JEk8pRlVR4xU0DMX1mBfQtGXfFdiar9vOVEqKeiR3-8W_pCi8/s1600/20140605_203820.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpr9Qlp7sWbZPSGbEMMQzgqhBjitx23EqkLtSSsfGGlvaqThEWooLqaP-IywjXMR8vcGgvHMwmMB0AVEqbgTe5NPsvfJ_JEk8pRlVR4xU0DMX1mBfQtGXfFdiar9vOVEqKeiR3-8W_pCi8/s1600/20140605_203820.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpt2eN2gF87ezzu0H7gTMl1s_X0YLw0blw9wLfV1EY6bKlJTNEOhf2yoNpymZmNbxkd8OJgrHTO3mioMPgCSsw0qpShV_paA3jo8VyfPUgRVXHT4pR7u12JOmvDalygea-FZgOLxClfPtf/s1600/20140621_194945.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpt2eN2gF87ezzu0H7gTMl1s_X0YLw0blw9wLfV1EY6bKlJTNEOhf2yoNpymZmNbxkd8OJgrHTO3mioMPgCSsw0qpShV_paA3jo8VyfPUgRVXHT4pR7u12JOmvDalygea-FZgOLxClfPtf/s1600/20140621_194945.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Go ahead. Link it. Share it. Post it. Tweet it. Spread the word. Steve and I are shrinking but we aren't shrinking violets and I don't give a damn who thinks my lard ass should be hidden away while I do it. </div>
<br />Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-76924817730557551342014-06-29T20:14:00.003-07:002014-06-29T20:14:45.371-07:00In This MomentI drove down the road in the early morning traffic, headed to get the new windshield for the van. I turned up Florence and laughed. It started as a slow warming glow in my heart and then spread outward until I was smiling and then giggling and then laughing outright. I finally fit in the skin I'm in. I know who I am, what I want, what I can achieve, how strong I am, what I'm made of and how I indelibly impact people's lives with the simplest touch. I will let nothing stand in my way. If it is meant to be, it WILL be. I laughed until Florence was done singing "The Drumming Song" then smiled all the way to the auto glass repair shop. A warm glow emanating outwardly the way a slow-burning lavender incense will permeate a room. I held onto that peace for nearly the entire day.<br />
<br />
Since November, when Sissy was hospitalized for attempting suicide, I haven't gone past six days without tears. This has been the most trying time of my life, far and away. I still have no clue where the twists and turns of tomorrow will take me but I'm slowly emerging from this transformational experience as a strong, vibrant, amazing woman that I enjoy greeting in the morning mirror while I brush my teeth. I finally see myself as the person I was born to be. I have harnessed the power of my inner tigress Chinese zodiac and tied it to the balance of my Libra sign. This has been no small feat. I have often felt at odds with myself. Now I see the potential of both to catapult me toward what the circumstances and abuses of my life have abated.<br />
<br />
For the past several months I have prayed, "let what wants to come, come. Let what wants to go, go. If it is mine it will stay, if not, something better will replace it." Last week I added to my daily prayer, "I call upon your Divine Will to guide me. Give me a clear sign of the direction I am to go in and if I set my foot to the wrong path, stop me." These prayers bring so much peace and power. Am I seeing things coming and going? Yes and no. Am I getting clear signs? Yes and no. When it's a "no" I breathe. Long, slow, deep cleansing breaths. When it is a Yes or some semblance of a yes, I breathe. Long, slow, deep cleansing breaths. This is how I am, in this moment, here, now, today. I am light, I am love, I am healed, I am whole. I am as I should be.<br />
<br />
What should I be, you ask? <br />
<br />
As I am, right here, right now, in this moment.<br />
<br />
Yes. It's incredibly vague. Yes, it's obnoxiously inefficient as an answer. It is what it is. If I think past this, I shut down. So I breathe. Long, slow, deep cleansing breaths. Then I accept it. I am here, right now, in this moment. What will be, will be.<br />
<br />
There is another intense lesson I have learned in my life odyssey, including the years of my abusive marriage and even long before that. As much as the pain and heartache of life has been unbearable at times and has laid me bare, I can stand firm on the truth that without these passages of time and suffering, I would not be who I am, I would not love as I do. I would not have the peace and patience I have today. I would not understand the grace that has been given to me that I can freely give to others. I would not know how to forgive myself let alone others. I would not have embraced the need for transformation or the ability to accept that many others do not choose to take this high road toward self-actualization. This path has made parenting challenging children, easier to emotionally process. The intensity of the burden is not less, the feelings of it being unfair and overwhelming are not less. But the acceptance that because of this journey and my willingness to change as I was meant to change, has allowed me to see the good despite the bad. I have much to give as a result.<br />
<br />
The night alarm is back on. Sissy is back to her old tricks. AB has had to learn some adolescent lessons himself today. WG is on restriction until Tuesday for behavior issues. I had a relaxing weekend despite being away from home and though I cried today, I made it three days without a drop. I'll get there. Or not. Maybe this weeping thing is also part of my transformed self. So I am as I am, right here, right now, in this moment. Not knowing if I am moving anytime soon. Unsure if I will have a job and where exactly this journey will take me. I know not if I will continue to be alone or if I will cross paths with a future partner in this process. I know only that if something wants to come, it will. If it is meant to go, it will. I release the desire to control it and I breathe while I wait.<br />
<br />
Written last Sunday and posted on my FB wall:<br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">Trying trying every day <br /> Try to push the blues away. <br /> Try to make the smile show <br /> To make my lovely face aglow. <br /> Try to be in this moment now <br /> trying trying, I know how! <br /> Feel the warmth upon my face <br /> Know the love of good and grace. <br /> Soon will be the change I seek <br /> so please stop those eyes that leak. <span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> Give yourself a warm embrace <br /> seek today, it's not a race. <br /> You will find the good will come <br /> hear it thrumming, hear it hum. <br /> One more day now, yes you can <br /> tomorrow? Today! that's the plan. <br /> <br /> (original poetry copyrights apply. thanks ~Jennie)</span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjscEsyAlMXnNvn_w0EgFr65i5LOoDM8lxKb1vtRYVzNQ35ZzNF2us3BqY7VZ-xUV9VyB5jU3MqOJwtUjoVtHFLXNGXWv6lO18u-BBL5ADwj9qRe9utMPvIuw5Oij3kd4vAsTdO_nqM_5MF/s1600/tattoo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjscEsyAlMXnNvn_w0EgFr65i5LOoDM8lxKb1vtRYVzNQ35ZzNF2us3BqY7VZ-xUV9VyB5jU3MqOJwtUjoVtHFLXNGXWv6lO18u-BBL5ADwj9qRe9utMPvIuw5Oij3kd4vAsTdO_nqM_5MF/s1600/tattoo.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
This is the tattoo my youngest sister drew for me embracing my tiger Libra zodiacs. I will one day get it done, when I have the money to spend on frivolities. Until then, I have gratefully begun using some of the GoFundMe dollars toward the much needed and long overdue expenses I have not been able to attend to. Thank you SO much. Please continue to link, share, pin, tweet, etc. There are still several unmet needs that desperately need attention. I concentrated on the vehicle repairs and my medical health first.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.gofundme.com/a4ayj0" target="_blank">GoFundMe</a></span></div>
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show"> </span></span> <br />
<br />Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-40677838455713444152014-06-18T19:34:00.002-07:002014-06-18T19:34:35.133-07:00Fly Away With YouI've cried myself to sleep the past two nights so I thought tonight I would try something different. I watched a movie with the kids while I gave myself a mani/pedi. I put on my nightie and went to the bed and...right. Three loads of unfolded laundry on top of a stripped bed, chores I intended to get to earlier today but which were, as with any other day, forgotten in the melee and craziness of a day with challenged kids and leaving my home every Monday and Wednesday evening while the children visit with their father. So, seeing the bed piled high with untended responsibilities I did what any sensible 39 year old single mom does. I popped the top of a hard cider, turned on the latest ColdP1ay CD, a gift from a long time reader and FB friend and decided I needed to blog.<br />
<br />
I mean, I COULD be lying on top of the bare bed and the clean laundry to cry myself to sleep again but there is the conundrum of having to rewash three loads because of the snot and tear riddled mess I would make. And let's be honest, who wants to do THAT? *holds up cider* Cheers.<br />
<br />
Mondays and Wednesdays I usually spend with my friend, Cinch (here in the blogosphere) and her hubby , eating and dashing home. Tonight she was teaching and C~, her German exchange student, returned home last Tuesday so I cooked for family friends who have endured their own ridiculous heart ache the past few months. I liked the change of atmosphere. I like cooking for other people and filling tummies with yumminess. It's a simple thing but it has always felt like love to me. Eating together, talking, laughing, drinking, smacking lips, washing dishes. So much happens in the kitchen of a home, it is where families are made or broken. The kitchen of a home tells the most about what really happens behind closed doors. As much as my life has bent and twisted and landed me on my ass time and time again, whatever home I have occupied as an adult has been where my heart and soul is. I like my kitchen, my table, my home. I haven't always been able to say that. <br />
<br />
As I drove home this evening, I reflected on how much this life has changed me. Some for good, some for bad. Do I like who I am now? Yes. I love myself very much. I love how strong I have become, I love my power and my smile, my laugh and my tears. I love my confidence and my wisdom, my wit and my humor. I am one cool broad. Do others think that? Some would say yes, indubitably. Others, who knew me before this painful life odyssey morphed me into a sometimes caustic, often foul-mouthed, always sarcastic, occasionally bitter, seemingly aloof, red wine savoring, dance-in-the-moonlight, incense-burning, trampoline jumping, horse-loving, fire-poi spinning, hippie zen goddess of love and light would shake their heads in bewilderment. What on earth happened to Jennie? <br />
<br />
Old Jennie wasn't the real one, as it turns out. This me? The me sitting here, fighting tears, wearing a neglige for no one but myself because I like to look pretty, blogging the truth of my life in its rare, untethered ugliness is the real me. I slowed to a stop at a traffic light, my new brakes stopping the van gently after so many months of grinding halts, I harrumphed and nodded my head. Av1cii sang to me. I rolled down the windows, cut the AC and turned it up. The light changed and I made a left turn, my left hand hanging out the window, waving gently to the rhythm of the song, I sang along. Then hit repeat when the song ended because, like all songs, if you let them be, it was an oracle, singing the thoughts of my head and heart. <br />
<br />
Where does the body hurt? What does it tell me needs to heal? Yesterday it felt like I was wearing a metal brace around my entire abdomen, chest and back; a metal casing preventing deep breaths and fullness, relaxation and acceptance. Several weeks ago Sissy made a claim to the bus aide on the way to school that I was abusive. As a result, on Monday, the county social services sent out a case worker to do an investigation. Now, in my head, I know that I won't be charged with anything but oh, what a bitter pill to swallow. After all the abuse and heartache, pain, the hearing loss I now have, the anxiety that has me taking a daily pill for the rest of my life, the incompetence of Sissy's current agent working her case, the lack of resources for my family, my inability to be in public for long periods of time, the toll on my body and mind 24/7 and I am the one being investigated for abuse. It hurts. All over my body. You could have cut off my limbs and I wouldn't have known it. The burden weighing on my shoulders, metaphorically crushing my spine so that my body metaphysically created a brace support system that felt like it was suffocating me, that pain doesn't just go away.<br />
<br />
My friends, so lovingly helping with the gofundme campaign. I am speechlessly overwhelmed but I can't bring myself to emote. I'm not ungrateful, it's just that the money raised is already spent and there will always be more need. Yesterday, AB's psychiatrist said, "They will both always be in your care, you know this, right?" I nodded my head. "Sissy. She is your biggest burden. I'm really worried about you dealing with her. How is it going selling the house and finding a job?" I held back tears and bit my lip. Because it's not going. I'm not going. My life isn't changing, moving, morphing with me. It's not.<br />
<br />
A gofundme campaign is so amazing. I should be bouncing off the walls in joy and laughter but not five hours after the campaign went live, I was getting the call from social services about the investigation. So that's why. That's why I can't trust, I can't be happy, I can't dance or sing or be amazed. There will always be sorrow and pain chasing away the love and light. There will always be me, by myself, struggling to make it all work, putting on a cheerful face, laughing through the pain, staying positive despite it all, serving others because it's what makes ME happy, cooking, cleaning, riding horses, burning incense, blogging, texting friends when i fall apart, wiping my tears on my pillow every night while I wear lovely nighties - wishing, hoping, but no. Not dreaming anymore. What's the point? <br />
<br />
Sissy and AB will always need care. No one will join this burden with me. Hell, I don't want it. I will be alone with them. Stuck. Wishing I could fly away but being too stubborn to shake it off. Watching others move on to their happiness and doing everything in my power to be really happy for them because i don't want others to hurt or carry burdens too. But what about me? Flocks of birds fly away with the wind as they choose. They pair up, some for life, no struggles, no worries. Eat a worm or drink some nectar. Snuggle in a nest of straw and hair, sing lovely songs. I get to watch. That is all. That is all it will ever be. <br />
<br />
So...I will finish my hard cider, fold three loads of laundry, put clean sheets on my bed, get into it alone, cry until the tears run out and do it all again tomorrow. By myself. With all the temerity and strength, love and light I put into it today. All day. Every day. And once in a while, I will imagine what it would be like to fly away with you.<br />
<br />
I know I posted it already, but will you please consider helping, donating, passing it on, sharing the link, pin it, tweet it, whatever suits your fancy. Thanks.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.gofundme.com/a4ayj0" target="_blank">GoFundMe</a></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/pW9mcmLej3E?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-32502896366089667132014-06-11T20:15:00.002-07:002014-06-11T20:16:11.604-07:00HOLY WOW!<span style="font-size: large;">My friends from my support group, <a href="http://www.momsfindhealing.com/" target="_blank">BeTA</a>, have put this together for me. Feeling so blessed and loved. Will you consider helping? If not, will you consider passing the link on?</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.gofundme.com/a4ayj0" target="_blank">GO FUND ME CAMPAIGN</a></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">How are things in general? Well, life is crazy hectic but the more I talk to people, the more they all say the same. It seems the cosmos are slicing up a bit of mayhem for everyone. Anger still lurks in my waking life. I'm not sure if I like this emotion better than all the crying and grief? Although that one still likes to come around from time to time. Right now, in this exact moment, I'm overwhelmed by the support from my BeTA friends. I've been crying out for help for months, well, mostly since November when Sissy was placed on suicide watch on the crisis stabilization unit. That's about when the alarms started ringing that I was in over my head, barely swimming, desperately needing something, someone, anything, anyone, HELP.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I'll write more in a day or two, for now, please help if you can or pass the link along, post it on your facebook page or twitter or pin it or... anything! This girl is sinking fast and unless you want me to send Sissy, AB and WG to your house with notes pinned to their shirts that they need a good home while their mom recovers from her OWN trauma, throw me a lifeline in any form or fashion you can muster. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">All kidding aside, it is dire. I'm sinking. I need HELP. Have needed help for a long, long time. I'm tired of asking and getting chirping birds. I'm tired of crying by myself and wiping my own tears and hugging myself. I'm tired of going to bed at night alone with this burden on my head and waking to it alone with the burden no lighter than the day before. Pockets full of stones. Until my house sells, I get hired and can relocate the children and I to a place where life will change for the better, I need HELP. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Thanks! and Namaste!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/am6rArVPip8?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-9803169451300796962014-06-02T16:26:00.001-07:002014-06-02T16:26:17.369-07:00Muse ForevermoreGonna try.<br />
<br />
Don't really want to, but going to try anyway. I WANT to create. It's in my frontal lobe, this - you should create, get that moving again, it will help - but it's not happening. So I sit in a coffee house while the children visit with their father in my home. I bring my pens and paper and the HP mini and I ...see a former student that makes my drink for me on the house. Chai Tea Latte. yum. Then I pay it forward when a soldier walks in and I give him the remainder of my gift card, something a student gave me at the end of the school year. And I sit. Listening to LORD.E and brain thinks and thinks and stays in Beta and all frontal lobe and I imagine what my brain scan would look like right now. All lit up in the prefrontal cortex, red, left hemisphere. <br />
<br />
I close my eyes. Breathe. Mentally push the brain activity back to the parietal and temporal lobes so I can take it in, maybe reach that creative energy and I type. I sit and type, free association, I have no idea where this post is going I know only that I'm going insane, like a snake blinded by his shedding skin. Yes. That image. Exactly.<br />
<br />
Breathe. Sip Chai. Listen to the music. Hope that the cutie pie soldier sitting next to me, typing on his macbook and enjoying the drink my gift card purchased for him will tell me something more than his name. <br />
<br />
Skip that.<br />
<br />
Smile at my former student that walks in talking on her cell, she must be on break. Look at the woman sitting in the corner studying something huge, maybe a nursing exam text? Or she could be a med student. Older gentleman across from her on his tablet, portly man, sipping an enormous chocolate confection. Man in the back also studying some large text. Woman on the other side of soldier typing on her macbook (am I the only one that comes to this particular coffee establishment with something other than an apple device?).<br />
<br />
Music changes to some weird techno thing. I like it. <br />
<br />
Breathe.<br />
<br />
Muse muse, where's my muse?<br />
<br />
In walks a mismatched couple. sometimes you have to wonder how people meet up? <i>*i just want to write a song about a boy and a girl..* </i>This song, Michael Franti, Say Hey. *nodding head* good muse. But... wrong one. that's not the mood I'm in.<br />
<br />
Maybe it should be?<br />
<br />
Soldier wants to know if I have head phones he can borrow. Um...no. Mismatched couple is fixing their drinks and leaving. Really, they are weird. She looks like a witchy diva goddess and he looks like a conservative nerd. Another couple walks in. See now, they are a better match. He is all jock and she is pto mom. yep. That makes sense.<br />
<br />
music changed again. Breathe.<br />
<br />
Still in prefrontal cortex. I think I might need to draw. Sissy is driving me nuts. Is there anything new? AB is... eh. He's AB. What else can I say about him? WG is stressed already. Duh. So am I. She reflects my mood. <br />
<br />
Breathe. Inhale. Exhale. I have 50 minutes before I have to go home. Will the ex have gotten them all wound up? He showed up with "dessert" (his words) and handed them each a packet of airheads. Not one airhead, one of the blister packs that has 10 airheads, flavor assortments. Yeah. <br />
<br />
Former student now restocking while still on iphone. <br />
<br />
Ah, I think I've got it.<br />
<br />
Music is the sounds of day,<br />
The faces and the colors, the elements.<br />
Around me circles the energy of pain and joy,<br />
The music of all creation.<br />
Carbon, the covalent bonds with Hydrogen,<br />
Taking forms of many sounds and living things.<br />
It ends and moves to other shapes.<br />
A wooden table, a paper cup,<br />
A plastic lid, a fiber glass hood of a Mercedes.<br />
The lenses of the Oakley sunglasses<br />
The waterproof phone protector, the hemp rope basket<br />
Displaying coffee beans. <br />
All music.<br />
All life.<br />
All soul.<br />
These are the colors of life<br />
The sounds of day<br />
The cadence and rhythm of what was<br />
What is,<br />
What will be.<br />
And I am here, in it, carbon, hydrogen, taking form<br />
Making music<br />
Breathing soul. I am whole.<br />
I am light, I am love, I am.<br />
I was.<br />
I will be.<br />
Forever more.<br />
<br />
<i>original work of blog author, copyright laws apply</i><br />
<br />
<br />Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-22969749930483019922014-05-28T20:17:00.005-07:002014-05-28T20:44:47.264-07:00Set Me on FIRE!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqVRuShZccJG7iUCXTFx2XSC5WXcX0pCAC4GVYWWpaBRWtJVC14cZ37pGcOizTIb42HzufCjcEWTuvXNmhzpZyNRFpBaRPgQGkteUgXj2ka72R27rlzG32kgKy_owXO0YSdTEwBL9cR4Q/s1600/DSC_2943.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqVRuShZccJG7iUCXTFx2XSC5WXcX0pCAC4GVYWWpaBRWtJVC14cZ37pGcOizTIb42HzufCjcEWTuvXNmhzpZyNRFpBaRPgQGkteUgXj2ka72R27rlzG32kgKy_owXO0YSdTEwBL9cR4Q/s1600/DSC_2943.JPG" height="200" width="131" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/8HaU7Lq0tew?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
I enjoy spinning fire poi, a new past time I have picked up. It is cathartic. It makes an incredible sound when they are lit and spinning. WHOOOOSH WHOOOSH<br />
It is mesmerizing, actually.<br />
<br />
Of course, fire is mesmerizing so being able to wield it as an art form is spectacularly freeing. Then moving in tandem to a song that speaks my soul for me so I don't have to come up with the words on my own? --> --><br />
<br />
Even better.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I'd like to tell you that my soul is as free as WG and the seagulls are in these photos. I'd like to tell you that I was able to hang onto that happiness from last week. I'd like to tell you that it hasn't turned into liquid rage flowing through my veins. I'd like to tell you that I don't want any bridges to burn. I'd like to...but I can't.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOTn4yrCy6ua1Na1ilenW4pXv7Se-vswyOeNvaGFIMdcGn_8kJsT7pnBFk-_E-cG1ZIJVN_cnhjpijKGPgtRtp81ru8G5XzU693hWtmFFnB-tS0Cx-0CC8eDdq8GiPkRtuOfFWh_Hs-uTl/s1600/DSC_0073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOTn4yrCy6ua1Na1ilenW4pXv7Se-vswyOeNvaGFIMdcGn_8kJsT7pnBFk-_E-cG1ZIJVN_cnhjpijKGPgtRtp81ru8G5XzU693hWtmFFnB-tS0Cx-0CC8eDdq8GiPkRtuOfFWh_Hs-uTl/s1600/DSC_0073.JPG" height="200" width="142" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaVlvbPwL35GAO2slj7Og0J4w-6OwcPxpkOMX_SncRTE5w3lItDnuaFHIhkBydIlN7PMbiSTxNPnBLdFodBV3iR1bWfz7efgaRI91SKGgxcnv2NDPgC5v_H5j-UvQNuQJhyphenhyphenf-cicwsE2W8/s1600/DSC_0173.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaVlvbPwL35GAO2slj7Og0J4w-6OwcPxpkOMX_SncRTE5w3lItDnuaFHIhkBydIlN7PMbiSTxNPnBLdFodBV3iR1bWfz7efgaRI91SKGgxcnv2NDPgC5v_H5j-UvQNuQJhyphenhyphenf-cicwsE2W8/s1600/DSC_0173.JPG" height="131" width="200" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(<i>photos taken in March during our annual </i>It's Finally Spring!<i> beach trip)</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I'll tell you that this past weekend I had fun. Friday night I took C~ and another exchange student from Brazil to their first drive-in movie experience. Saturday I slept ALL DAY (seriously. all day. until 5:30?!?) then I picked up C~ and we had ice cream and walked with Carbon around the park. Sunday we went to the lakehouse (kids' biofamily has an annual memorial day event) and it didn't take a whole lot of bidding to get me to jump off the top deck fully clothed. SO MUCH FUN. Then whipping about the lake dragging people behind body boarding and of course, the ubiquitous laughter when they wiped out.<br />
<br />
Then home to my kids and my friend S~ telling me her horse died unexpectedly then reality. School is out, the kids are home all summer, I have no job, my house hasn't sold and a few days of reprieve from the fun simply isn't enough to fill my cup to overflowing again.<br />
<br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i> </i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
It's too much. It has been too much for me and I've been saying so for a long time. Someone recently told me that I am one of God's special creations. Oh...I really don't want to hear that. I really just want to be plain old me and to have fun and be carefree and to have my troubles and my worries be dialed back to "normal life crud" status. I'd like Sissy to have appropriate resources and help. I'd like to not be alone at the end of a every day, knowing I will wake up in the morning and it will all be the same as the day before and always be me, only me, nothing but me, all.the.time. With a few rare breaks every now and then.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
My sister texted me a meme: Worrying is like praying for exactly what you don't want</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I made it my cellphone wallpaper.<br />
<br />
I read an anecdote from"Outrageous Openness" by Tosha Silver. She addresses the idea of speaking what will be. Therefore I should be positive and try to transform my energy to be directed only on the things I want to be so those will manifest. She suggested making a "God Box" and putting any worries I have on a paper and into the box so that whenever I worry I should declare, "it's in the box, it is already taken care of"<br />
<br />
I listened to Ju'Light who told her listeners that what we speak will be.<br />
Ok then. Fine.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
My House is Sold.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I am Hired for a New Teaching Job.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My New Life has Already Begun.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I am Not Alone.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I have Hope.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I have a Life Partner.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Sissy and AB have Sufficient Resources.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I Am Happy. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Except all of this sounds like rubbish and nonsense and more feel good rhetoric. Pick a religion, a paradigm, a creed, an ideology, a philosophy, all of it is feel good nonsense that we are told to recite to lift our mood and encourage us. True, there is some scientific evidence that this alters brain chemistry by increasing seratonin levels and it shifts where the thoughts are occurring in the brain. Does it actually make the changes happen? NO. There is no magic trick for that. What wants to come will come, what wants to go will go. Period. And I have modified my wants and needs many, many times the past few months. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I'm not supposed to say the negative things, apparently, so I won't tell you that I have no creative drive, that I haven't quilted in eons because I can't find the desire. I'm not supposed to say that I'm angry so i won't tell you that I would like to kick, hit, scream, punch, yell and break things. I'm not supposed to say that I am stuck, withering, fading and disintegrating before my very eyes so I won't tell you that dried worms on hot concrete after a hard rain have more vitality than I do. I'm not supposed to say that I am empty so I won't tell you that all the beautiful, lazy, crazy fun I had this weekend was barely a drop in my empty bucket and no where near enough to sustain me or get me over the hump. I'm not supposed to say these worrisome, troubling thoughts that wander through my head like a mentally ill homeless person that speaks to people that aren't there so I didn't. I haven't. I won't. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I think I'm supposed to be learning something? yeah. I have one choice phrase for the sentiment. It's not polite.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I think I'm supposed to let Universe, Source, Creator, God take control, trust that it will be OK and let it go. I have another choice phrase for that sentiment. Also, not polite.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
A year ago I was picking up the pieces after a brutal divorce proceeding that left me holding the bag with little recourse. A year ago I had climbed my way out of suicidal thoughts, remodeled my bedroom and bathroom and breathed my way through a long summer alone with the kids. A year ago I was planning on getting my degree to get certified and get out of Georgia. A year ago...</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I'm exactly where I was a year ago. And it pisses me off. No. I'm where I was a year ago but with another year of battle scars to heal from. A year later and the only thing different is my clothing size.[1]</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Let it go, trust, let it be, relax, breathe, be patient, grow, change, modify, hang on, hope, have faith, it is already in motion....</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
These thoughts and so many others echo in my head, chasing that mentally ill homeless man in my brain. He bats them away with vehemence and impatience because their voice interrupts the voices of the imaginary people he is listening too, the voices that tell him all the worrisome, troubling thoughts. I don't want to hear it! I don't believe any of it. I don't want to be some amazing person or strong or what EVER! I don't. I just DON'T.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I want to burn it down. Burn it all down. Set it on fire. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Set ME on fire.</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">None of this makes any sense and I'm tired of waiting for it to change.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
What do you need in this moment? (This is what my sister asked me)</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Does it even matter? Ok, for the sake of argument, and assuming that THIS time what I need will actually happen, I need my life to change. I have done all of the steps to put it in motion and...*crickets chirping*</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Yeah. exactly. One more lie? One more and I will do it. I will...</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">BURN IT DOWN!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/XcClvRt9g2Q?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioKlXIlcRP6By3LaMvS8dyqyjFihpIhwnXCr9y9gvtcAF-TNHUkzOaRr7u16p3sUl1ntFNqdUOtqoSzggxsWkxeK19AFu5kzU2wvJ2AuGHUJdjNEAfdf9oPrHpG2W8z3VSTulXgLplCP1M/s1600/DSC_3009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioKlXIlcRP6By3LaMvS8dyqyjFihpIhwnXCr9y9gvtcAF-TNHUkzOaRr7u16p3sUl1ntFNqdUOtqoSzggxsWkxeK19AFu5kzU2wvJ2AuGHUJdjNEAfdf9oPrHpG2W8z3VSTulXgLplCP1M/s1600/DSC_3009.JPG" height="131" width="200" /></a></div>
<i>Maybe anger will go further than tears</i><br />
<i>Maybe rage will buy my freedom</i><br />
<i>Maybe fire will assuage haunting fears</i><br />
<i>Maybe ashes give me reason.</i><br />
<i>Maybe burning will light the glowing flame</i><br />
<i>That scorches the simmering pain</i><br />
<i>Maybe coals ignite the end of this game</i><br />
<i>That soothes the soul like gentle rain.</i><br />
<i>Maybe fire, maybe flame, burn it down!</i><br />
<i>Rise from ashes and be made new</i><br />
<i>Emerging in flashes of white, a gown,</i><br />
<i>Drapes my form from pain now made true.</i><br />
<i>Burn it down, Set me on fire.</i><br />
<i>(poetry is original work, copyright laws apply)</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
[1] but hey, if I burn it down, at least there will be less to burn. Since last august I have lost 50 pounds. Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-17355539367816417642014-05-21T17:19:00.001-07:002014-05-21T17:28:00.495-07:00I think I found it?Packing up my classroom last Friday was definitely hard. A little panicky moment there and some tears and then I went home and sobbed. Such a huge leap of faith, this moving-but-i-don't-know-where-or-when-yet thing. So I blogged the Bridges post, journaled (there is SO much in the private journal that will never be bloggable but that is as it should be), talked to friends and family, had a glass of wine and called it a night.<br />
<br />
Saturday I woke up and said <i>Ok self. Let's do this</i>. I took the kids to the barn for riding and surprise! I got to ride! I didn't have trouble remembering my posting but my 2-point? Eh. Not so much. I had so much fun! Then off to feed Jack, my buddy. He's a retired quarter horse and he gives the most awesome hugs. Then home to the housework to show the house to a potential buyer, lunch at McDonald's then just me and the kids again. I started to panic. <i>crap. alone. again.</i> Picked up the phone and started texting. *cue tentative smile* C~ was going to her first ball game. Minor leagues. "Can we go too?"<br />
<br />
Then home to work in the garage and chatting on the phone with my big sister and neighbors playing in the yard and off to the baseball game, listening to One Republ!c on the way, singing along and... I think I found it?<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
After the 11 inning Game, our team won! </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAz155WXIzHe2sHzD1YefZY9XhpLnVU7wYNSkMn8R33ZdKmSoer55Y19aBvTC3-DFVudceZDQfMf5cOXTScO_lIyX57KmR69IkIxyT5MUvgxvdMfJfa6bVJfvV-ghd_LzkCrDMNUrZc9s2/s1600/chrissy+and+me+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAz155WXIzHe2sHzD1YefZY9XhpLnVU7wYNSkMn8R33ZdKmSoer55Y19aBvTC3-DFVudceZDQfMf5cOXTScO_lIyX57KmR69IkIxyT5MUvgxvdMfJfa6bVJfvV-ghd_LzkCrDMNUrZc9s2/s1600/chrissy+and+me+2.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Nicest family photo since my birthday in October!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBJCCPEUTbQaxGeg_A8_ylalkaAQcYKO1KE6cw4gaiujdmFY0QFxu9hty9oqZ2GShSMKYC4XISh0hTimp82s2n-FyjCfbcaGBbR7X1tyrm9Trj9pVjG1Dd6aFXb297BY6JE9bCHGFJt_OQ/s1600/kids+and+me+may+2014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBJCCPEUTbQaxGeg_A8_ylalkaAQcYKO1KE6cw4gaiujdmFY0QFxu9hty9oqZ2GShSMKYC4XISh0hTimp82s2n-FyjCfbcaGBbR7X1tyrm9Trj9pVjG1Dd6aFXb297BY6JE9bCHGFJt_OQ/s1600/kids+and+me+may+2014.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Selfies with C~ and me!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdpEKamo10lqm-3t_2Lad-4hyFDrAc88CeJOA5xI3SRKIQ8c-PtPgi_KrDOETjK5x1x1bAN2_9zNC8rnlhj8r8W2qZhUb8TZUyOpZDwRzcvsuJw3osqLk60IvlJDmPenBHIWrQe1s-F119/s1600/chrissy+and+me+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdpEKamo10lqm-3t_2Lad-4hyFDrAc88CeJOA5xI3SRKIQ8c-PtPgi_KrDOETjK5x1x1bAN2_9zNC8rnlhj8r8W2qZhUb8TZUyOpZDwRzcvsuJw3osqLk60IvlJDmPenBHIWrQe1s-F119/s1600/chrissy+and+me+1.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Yep, that's right. I am SMILING.<br />
<br />
Sunday, packing, cleaning, hard work in the garage. I just keep believing this house is going to sell and I can be on my way finally. Lots of researching a different location, jobs, resources, exhausting! Monday. Busy busy busy. No time to stop.<br />
<br />
Tuesday? KAPOW! A jolt of adrenaline filled with love and amazingness.<br />
<br />
1. AB had to have a fasting blood analysis done to check his liver function with one of his medications. On the drive to the lab, AB told me about a dream he had the night before. In his dream he went down into hell, through black roots. When he got there, he pushed the devil away. Then he went to heaven and met my father, who has been deceased since 1986. According to AB, my father told him to tell me that I was doing a good job raising my son. *smile*<br />
<br />
2. I took him to class, still beaming and drove straight to the grade school. WG was getting an award. The Presidential oustanding academic achievement for straight A's the entire school year. *smile* ok... and some tears of pride.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
WG all dressed up for the ceremony.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This is a BIG deal because 90% of her clothes are boys items!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmSCzJciO012dvRvFbn_JNEHMIX32-Hr9WLekYoVvI9kaG7YMG0PI5WOnY5QVX3F3Ma7QKjT9NROXzA5JQx3fc0C3BRRc8A4xvDzgtrFthmoJ2h61oUNnfVvs_2IVIndpV-tpqdVcNxv-_/s1600/2014+maren+honors+day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmSCzJciO012dvRvFbn_JNEHMIX32-Hr9WLekYoVvI9kaG7YMG0PI5WOnY5QVX3F3Ma7QKjT9NROXzA5JQx3fc0C3BRRc8A4xvDzgtrFthmoJ2h61oUNnfVvs_2IVIndpV-tpqdVcNxv-_/s1600/2014+maren+honors+day.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
3. Then home again to get the mail. The letter from AB's psychiatrist arrived. She has requested that our new puppy, Hydrocarbon, be registered as an Emotional Support Dog. This means, no matter where we move to, no landlord can deny Carbon, regardless of their personal pet policy. Emotional Support Dogs are covered under the American Disability Act/Fair Housing. *smile* ok... and some jumping up and down and squeals of happiness.<br />
<br />
4. Then a bit of a rest and, off to graduation ceremonies. Well, I think the pictures tell the story.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Group photo with some of the faculty and administration </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3demWNzarngKrsWaapsyicOiwNbJR7Uz-J3Jp_SGUQS3JdRjODkmDOeusnhyphenhyphenax_CbaHvLJ63g74ToiPdbUfrmzqwUKEChX1XmBxAv0PtievjJOHpL8-xUHfZ0q6rQ0o86F2_4pDyuydcO/s1600/2014+graduation+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3demWNzarngKrsWaapsyicOiwNbJR7Uz-J3Jp_SGUQS3JdRjODkmDOeusnhyphenhyphenax_CbaHvLJ63g74ToiPdbUfrmzqwUKEChX1XmBxAv0PtievjJOHpL8-xUHfZ0q6rQ0o86F2_4pDyuydcO/s1600/2014+graduation+1.jpg" height="215" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(L to R) English, Math, Science, Art</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFGAxxlh_e4kgDabyqgNEqlkmFoLjh0_8iR2-s_slFUPvNt_LW6h64FloWXt6Zeji94AwqI0dmI2j66fBGee2OOAoFxyxSFBtp8L84xQyYaGyqvX9BqKX7GBX75RQaSWr6Lyt4SO3P6DG7/s1600/2014+graduation+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFGAxxlh_e4kgDabyqgNEqlkmFoLjh0_8iR2-s_slFUPvNt_LW6h64FloWXt6Zeji94AwqI0dmI2j66fBGee2OOAoFxyxSFBtp8L84xQyYaGyqvX9BqKX7GBX75RQaSWr6Lyt4SO3P6DG7/s1600/2014+graduation+2.jpg" height="215" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Faculty, staff, Director</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbdWjhSdcKrtLuqY04X4bhmNFtovbBGZikqpmp1J-cDLKYIUFnQj7FJnXYGdUiEZLOI5a9X7IYzdAfaNxAzdXqGrnQJMdLRUup5VCad25vo2csU4aA3ACFW7QuHSkjyF2MaPirokfsYhaY/s1600/2014+graduation+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbdWjhSdcKrtLuqY04X4bhmNFtovbBGZikqpmp1J-cDLKYIUFnQj7FJnXYGdUiEZLOI5a9X7IYzdAfaNxAzdXqGrnQJMdLRUup5VCad25vo2csU4aA3ACFW7QuHSkjyF2MaPirokfsYhaY/s1600/2014+graduation+3.jpg" height="215" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Director, Principal, ME! </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I have worked for the Director since February 1997!!!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsx3TANUmvsjJCm_V6W0VPTIMIXX5b07eUFoF-SJNlVsMTzyK4VNQqf2kzr-IOow9I5jphBl7YQIcJ6a5MlDbj2QewAfiShL8DQb7nSpZnOS50lsmDCOuRLwUk2cz_xhydGkrD6t0wgXGk/s1600/2014+graduation+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsx3TANUmvsjJCm_V6W0VPTIMIXX5b07eUFoF-SJNlVsMTzyK4VNQqf2kzr-IOow9I5jphBl7YQIcJ6a5MlDbj2QewAfiShL8DQb7nSpZnOS50lsmDCOuRLwUk2cz_xhydGkrD6t0wgXGk/s1600/2014+graduation+5.jpg" height="214" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
G~ and Me!!!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(she's from Pennsylvania so of course, I love her!!!)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_IhKLcxI27G2_UvvpSNZOhDw6eAKWJB-V5tGMr5FFXH59Tyoajs9AreH7l0G_U8uc-Ur_dm33R_9__pgQJZ37nOgBHWj6b73xW1NoyU1f_y2Jg_lw5NrkTBPtuOHyeNAdx4OTfYBmQQE_/s1600/2014+me+and+gladys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_IhKLcxI27G2_UvvpSNZOhDw6eAKWJB-V5tGMr5FFXH59Tyoajs9AreH7l0G_U8uc-Ur_dm33R_9__pgQJZ37nOgBHWj6b73xW1NoyU1f_y2Jg_lw5NrkTBPtuOHyeNAdx4OTfYBmQQE_/s1600/2014+me+and+gladys.jpg" height="216" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Me, 2030 Presidential Candidate [1], English Teacher</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha2YKs6AN4wKjJdRKVifJU8-NdBnoEvR3vjHeRg3vigWwXb0quHGfRa8KJVfnOG5PYJrw-95-E0PHDoVkCwjh8wKSJLFHq7_PHsPMemnI4wt9R_dyt0ZYSin6VDcWivWAYrz4OdqaXZc5v/s1600/2014+graduation+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha2YKs6AN4wKjJdRKVifJU8-NdBnoEvR3vjHeRg3vigWwXb0quHGfRa8KJVfnOG5PYJrw-95-E0PHDoVkCwjh8wKSJLFHq7_PHsPMemnI4wt9R_dyt0ZYSin6VDcWivWAYrz4OdqaXZc5v/s1600/2014+graduation+4.jpg" height="218" width="320" /></a></div>
Smiles, Smiles, Smiles<br />
<br />
OK... so after graduation I went home and was tearful. It was my last commencement with my school after all.<br />
<br />
But, there it is. In color. A smile. On MY face. After so many months, so much personal struggle, so much learning, leaning on others, trusting, crying, processing, sorting, thinking, feeling, grieving, worrying... a smile. MY smile.<br />
<br />
I don't have answers today. In fact, after so much yesterday, my head isn't in the game to find answers right now. I can't do a dang thing until the house sells anyway.<br />
<br />
Who will buy it? *shoulder shrug*<br />
Who will hire me? *shoulder shrug*<br />
Where will we move to? *shoulder shrug*<br />
What will our new life look like? *shoulder shrug*<br />
<br />
I know only ONE thing. Moving out of this state is imperative. AB and Sissy have new therapists (again) and once again, the care they are getting is WORSE than before. A Nigerian immigrant with a strong accent working with a predominantly autistic client base? Right. How many autistic teens are going to talk to her? AB has a hard enough time articulating as it is. A B.A. Social Work with only two other RAD cases under her belt and NO clients with crises, she didn't know what triangulation was, and she thought Sissy would learn to shower appropriately if I bribed her with cookies. Uh...I don't think so. My RAD daughter is 49/50 on the RADQ. She needs Master's level therapists on her case at the very least. And she needs to see her psychiatrist more often than once every three months! *shaking my head*<br />
<br />
So, with no answers and nothing but a smile on my face at the moment (well... at this EXACT moment it's a bit of a smirk because the mosquitoes are eating me while I type this on my back porch), I will leave you with a long overdue AB story [2]<br />
<br />
I was in the garage, packing and rearranging and gathering things for a yard sale. AB came up to me, pacing and scratching the back of his neck (his stims.) "Mom? Mom."<br />
<br />
"Yes son?"<br />
<br />
"How will it work?" He was eyeing the growing mountain of stacked boxes.<br />
<br />
"How does what work?"<br />
<br />
"My stuff. In the boxes. How will I get it in my room?" Then a look of panic on his face before I could answer. "Are you going to sell it?"<br />
<br />
"No AB, I will not sell your things. They are in the boxes, just like we put them there. They will stay in the boxes until we move."<br />
<br />
"Then what?"<br />
<br />
"What is the question you need answered?" He often has a hard time phrasing his thoughts so I wsa unsure what he wanted to know.<br />
<br />
"Then what happens to my things. In the boxes?"<br />
<br />
"Ah. Ok. So... we will put the boxes on the moving truck or in the van and drive them to our new house."<br />
<br />
*interrupting* "Where will that be again?"<br />
<br />
"We still don't know."<br />
<br />
"Oh. right. Maybe Pennsylvania."<br />
<br />
"that's right. so we will move the boxes to our new house."<br />
<br />
"And then?"<br />
<br />
"We will put them in your room."<br />
<br />
"But is that the best way?"<br />
<br />
"The best way for what?"<br />
<br />
"Getting my things into my room."<br />
<br />
"We will carry the boxes off the truck and put them into your room."<br />
<br />
"We won't take the things out of the box and carry the things?"<br />
<br />
"nope. Just the boxes."<br />
<br />
"But... is that the best way? How will I know it is my things in the box?"<br />
<br />
"The boxes are labeled."<br />
<br />
"Oh yeah. I forgot."<br />
<br />
"So we will open the boxes in your room and take your things out and put them all away again. It will be like we moved your whole room to another house. Ok?"<br />
<br />
"Ok." Then he hugged me and walked away.<br />
<br />
and this is how EVERY conversation with AB goes. He paces the entire time, scratches his head or his neck and rarely makes eye contact. If he is satisfied, I get a hug. If he is not satisfied he will persist. Sometimes he walks off angry. So it is. <br />
<br />
[1]Another Chemistry student, we had a running joke all year that he would be the president. In fact, every student in chemistry class was assigned a role in his administration. We did the math and figured the earliest he could run is 2030. So keep your eyes and ears open. This student will go far. No lie.<br />
<br />
[2]for Aunt J~ who has been missing the ABisms i would tell on my old blog. xxoo to my BFF!!Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-37331861698236208032014-05-16T13:33:00.001-07:002014-05-29T16:13:07.228-07:00Bridges<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"><b>Endings and Beginnings</b></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>poetry is original work of blog author copyright laws apply</i><b> </b></span> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">The
school year draws to a close, </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">My classroom packed away. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">I wish my
students, books and faculty </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">Hope for a bright, new day. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">For learning
things and making friends, </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">For laughs and tears alike. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">For songs and
tests and merry ways, </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">To inspire soaring heights.</span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">Since mid January, the 2.5 miles I have driven to class every day has been delayed, detoured or hindered by the widening of the bridge. Built in 2008, the road was altered and the new bridge created because there had been so many deaths from collisions or from vehicles going over the narrow, old bridge. In 2008, I was married, Sissy and AB were attending a grade school that was not serving their IEPs (which later necessitated a waiver to a different school), WG was only 4 and came to class with me to be babysat by students in a work/study program and I was driving through that construction daily. Now, just six years later, the traffic has increased exponentially, rendering the new bridge obsolete and in true deja'vu fashion, I am traversing the construction zone again. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">Construction has been swift. It has been fun to watch the metamorphosis of the landscape a second time; the giant trucks in action and the colossal cranes in motion. Some days, when it has been single lane traffic guided by flag men and pilot cars, I have opted to take the detour through the meandering subdivision roads. Today, as I packed up and drove home from school for the last time, believing in faith that I would find the bridge I will traverse to my next job, home, state, and new life, traffic was halted again. This time, for the installment of the enormous concrete girders for the new bridge. Two over-sized loads cautiously navigated the intersection, driving past me. I took a moment to ponder the connection and to receive the blessing - girders are on their way, for the literal bridge and for my figurative life bridge. There will be safe passage for all, once more.</span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAYSuMeLgWl2mRCbanBmhtkH-cPTx4IwkLYWkVJclNIPI_rdLdL4_qGQWyR5fxGqr-aS4CRnDWJuc1XA5jlo-nn8u2Wpj8_l3NqxW1CAj3j-hClIEYyJk1XrhVSI6dZixzrixCoDbcC6IB/s1600/bridge+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAYSuMeLgWl2mRCbanBmhtkH-cPTx4IwkLYWkVJclNIPI_rdLdL4_qGQWyR5fxGqr-aS4CRnDWJuc1XA5jlo-nn8u2Wpj8_l3NqxW1CAj3j-hClIEYyJk1XrhVSI6dZixzrixCoDbcC6IB/s1600/bridge+1.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ4ecgJywuvkBepy7_88vzGCi46JCoBtBsaHXYM70nLo8Q13eun6fTHsHP7umgJBsuqYISI5Rd4OxJmOk6iLlHj8eXXc6AzCrPokNPICRz1_FZN_WfP7RjNSmAQjFGX66FH0tjI4BfIkOQ/s1600/bridge+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ4ecgJywuvkBepy7_88vzGCi46JCoBtBsaHXYM70nLo8Q13eun6fTHsHP7umgJBsuqYISI5Rd4OxJmOk6iLlHj8eXXc6AzCrPokNPICRz1_FZN_WfP7RjNSmAQjFGX66FH0tjI4BfIkOQ/s1600/bridge+2.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZkrSyH9Bm5bqZpg0HPAmSowIca6200dgdXcqV7H8qKj7u9oOesMrhnGo9sqIXJo2ElvR8fkfS6t6sWP5SKZZ7G5Hw48nygyw0aF0Ru_IMlVIjLP15HYt9KIsgGlGqkOD07SfBAYkAcNs4/s1600/bridge+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZkrSyH9Bm5bqZpg0HPAmSowIca6200dgdXcqV7H8qKj7u9oOesMrhnGo9sqIXJo2ElvR8fkfS6t6sWP5SKZZ7G5Hw48nygyw0aF0Ru_IMlVIjLP15HYt9KIsgGlGqkOD07SfBAYkAcNs4/s1600/bridge+5.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">I have traveled this road indefinitely over the years. I have laughed, daydreamed, hollered and cried as I've driven it from home to wherever and back again. I've cranked up the jamming tunes to sing along and I've turned off the sad ones that have made the tears fall, blinding my vision. Our subdivision is right at the intersection so when we are outside, we can hear the traffic at all hours. Once, when driving home, I pulled into the turning lane to catch my dog Gracie, who just happened to have escaped our yard and was running into oncoming traffic at the moment I was driving by! A road named for our county, a bridge too narrow for the traffic, a life traveled on the rubber that meets them, it has been my connection to hopes and dreams, to laughter and pain, to home and love, to work and play, to everything. If the bridge is getting it's girders, so will I. </span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"></span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"></span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"><br /></span></span>
My road hasn't been easy, or fun, to travel. The daily crying has slowed some, in part because I intentionally took all of last week to process, feel, acknowledge and allow the hurts. Speaking to my wounded soul, I stopped fighting and let myself feel the hurt. I concluded the week with a fire, writing all of my anger, bitterness, resentment and pain, then burning the missives. This week I have felt some emotional relief but I know I will likely do this process a few more times. The hurt is that deep. I didn't know. I didn't see it. I just kept burying it and assumed it was inconsequential. My soul has literally begged me to stop and feel. So I have, I am, I will.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Last Saturday's "Freedom Fire"</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ8uzyYjj_9gFJBTW3SQcMcFJXGoJN5lBCaYrFwGmI91R3qfjkjdQKbCsr1HpsarxMDwMxi9LTg4fqRVeN-sQu0Z1OLU91ZadLzsWCTFH7rtHX6gDj3mzf0MSMDwipyXTF0KV9tnpIK0Rg/s1600/20140510_232442.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ8uzyYjj_9gFJBTW3SQcMcFJXGoJN5lBCaYrFwGmI91R3qfjkjdQKbCsr1HpsarxMDwMxi9LTg4fqRVeN-sQu0Z1OLU91ZadLzsWCTFH7rtHX6gDj3mzf0MSMDwipyXTF0KV9tnpIK0Rg/s1600/20140510_232442.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I recited the following as I watched the letters burn:</span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">I give the relationships with the people who have hurt me to Divine Order. it's in God's hands to sort it out. I give the last 18 years of life in Georgia to Divine Order. It's in God's hands to sort it out. I need not fear in letting them all go because my needs have always been met. I send blessings of peace to all who have hurt me and over the last 18 years while I have lived in Georgia. I receive blessings of peace for myself. I receive the inconceivable things Universe has planned for me because they are all good.</span></span><br />
<br />
The next morning, I woke up and I was still sad. So I wrote again...<br />
<br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"><i>Dear Jennie's hurting Soul:</i></span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"><i>I know it hurts you. So much. I know you wanted happiness and love and I agree, it sure did look and feel like that's what you were getting. And maybe some of it really was real. But I think you have to let that go too. It wasn't the kind you seek or need because so much pain came with it. Real love, the kind that is safe, whole and beautiful doesn't hurt like this too. OK? Concentrate on the love and light you get from people that don't hurt you shortly afterward. You will find it. And it will be more amazing and wonderful than you can imagine. But you can't find it if you cling to this false love. It wasn't real. I know you wanted it to be real. I know it felt real. I know. But so much more waits for you. It can't come if you can't release this. So practice. Release with your left hand, receive with your right. I love you. I love that you care and love this much. I love that you are so precious and giving and kind and all of the beautiful things you strive to be every day for everyone. Now can you do me one thing? Be all of that wonderful goodness for yourself. you are light, you are love, you are healed, you are whole. The inconceivable plan is already in motion. Let." </i></span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"><br /></span></span>
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">What I haven't shared on my blog, is that this past fall I was in a sort of relationship with a friend from my childhood. It was fast, it was beautiful, i was so happy and we discussed so many plans. There was hope, there was light and I thought, love. He came to visit in November. Then at the beginning of January, the kids and I visited him and his son. After many months of sharing so much of our lives, all-day texting, fb msgs, phone calls, emails, skype, visits, he dialed it back to friendship immediately after my return to Georgia. At the beginning of this whirlwind romance, I had promised that no matter what, I would be a friend because at his admission, he was worried that if we pursued something else, it would ruin our friendship, that it was what always happened with his previous romances and he didn't understand why. Fear of losing a friendship is the reason we didn't try dating as teenagers. But that's not the kind of person i am. I am loyal. I have always cherished him and his friendship, even in the times of our lives that we lost touch. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">I am still uncertain of what happened, to be honest. I know only that he has been cruel, cold, angry and lied about many things. I am saddest of all that we are no longer friends, that by his words, he wishes me well, "the same as he would for any random person he meets on the street." I am heartbroken. I have so much love and light, so many people tell me I'm so amazing but all I can hear in my head is the hurtful words, that I'm a "bastet" to him but that I should "stay out", or his text "to be blunt, you can't be on the side" which is a reference to me not being the f!ck buddy type. To him, I'm a plague. I think? At the very least, a nuisance that should be made to go away at all cost because "he tried silence but that didn't work so he tried to be blunt but that didn't work either." And to that, I am still so confused. I thought his self-imposed silence was so he could think, process and sort his life, not so that I would take a hint and go the f!ck away. I thought he was hurting and needed the type of friend that would stick by him. I was trying to do that all while trying to understand and deal with my own pain of instantly going from his girlfriend that he told everything to, to being...nothing at all. Overnight, the flirtations and kisses and hugs and poetry and kindness evaporated. In 24 hours time I was getting texts of how I was missed already as i drove 950 miles home with three children by myself to an angry "we're just friends!"</span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">Which was quickly followed by another angry text from someone else telling me how upset I'd made him and that I should back off. O.o</span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">yes, I know. I fell for another abusive relationship again. And that is the other sad part, that I still have not learned what is healthy in love and what is dangerous. I haven't mentioned it on my blog because I was tracking his IP address on my sitemeter. I wanted to be sure he wasn't still reading. In the end, it was my cousin that defended me, intercepting his email of how he no longer wanted to know what was happening in my life. Her response was unkind but deserved. I had endured enough heartache at his hand. It was time he understood how unjust he had been. That was five weeks ago. It still hurts. I still cry. I had to stop playing the RPG he introduced me too because he said "if i see you on the game, I will be neutral." Neutral? wow. 25 years, a romance, sharing our children and our lives...and he could only muster the ability to be neutral toward me on a role playing game should we be logged in at the same time? WOW.</span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"><br /></span></span>
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">The struggle has also been in recognizing how abusive my marriage was. For all of the pain and heartache I have had, discovering that my childhood friend is no friend at all, and perhaps, that not only is my love for him unwanted, neither is ANY of anything I have to offer, in the beginning, he still offered so much more love, light and joy than my ex ever did. OMG. OMG! Can you imagine... that by comparison to THIS recent deluge of pain, it was still better than the abuse of my marriage. SHOT TO THE HEART. Thus the intense grief and mourning. Even as I type this, tears streaming down my face, if he emailed me today and apologized, I would forgive and accept his friendship. That's all I really wanted in the end - was to be friends no matter what, to go through life's ups and downs together the same as I do with any of my other friends. My ex? well. he can bite me. In the end, I mailed all of the beautiful things he made and gave to me, to his sister who says she is my friend regardless of her brother's actions. I couldn't destroy the things he made, the energy and light he put into them, but neither could I have them in my home anymore. I cried every time I looked at them. I also sent her the necklace he gave me for graduation when we were 17. 17, when we promised that if we were both single at 40, we would get together...now the bridge is burning and I didn't light the match.</span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"></span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">(sent this poem to a friend i met on the RPG who has stayed in touch even though I can no longer play) </span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"><b>Falling Rain</b></span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>poetry is original work of blog author copyright laws apply</i><b> </b></span> </span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">Pop! Snap! The droplets fall</span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">Making music of it all.</span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">Rain is falling from the sky</span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">Falling, falling, me, oh my!</span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">The sound it soothes my jagged edges;</span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">Keeps me from the heights and ledges</span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">So I don't fall in like kind</span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">And leave the pain of Earth behind. </span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"> My new nook where I process and journal</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">It was my quilt corner - now packed up </span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8MkJZVNPqnecMR43cPfPvlASYJ_2UsZBHidxUi_OT7z3e29iQsmKpaaI6H9U6p2ILcX7_lJkxTHMLnbhY5ug1eDf_52ZGmwyehKWet9KE9T1Gs-BdCa-qcrgO7C_5Q9iyS6dptROl61zr/s1600/20140506_143159.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8MkJZVNPqnecMR43cPfPvlASYJ_2UsZBHidxUi_OT7z3e29iQsmKpaaI6H9U6p2ILcX7_lJkxTHMLnbhY5ug1eDf_52ZGmwyehKWet9KE9T1Gs-BdCa-qcrgO7C_5Q9iyS6dptROl61zr/s1600/20140506_143159.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"><i>Journal entry from 5/10: why do I run toward relationship with men that will hurt me when I am so loved, cherished and respected by nearly everyone else? Why does continued abuse feel like "love" to me? How do I break this cycle so I can be free?</i></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">So much soul searching. So much pain. So much loss. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"><i>Journal entry from 5/7: Dear Jennie's Soul, I am sorry for your suffering. I am sorry I threw you in the trash believing that's what you were. I'm sorry I let others treat you like trash. I'm sorry I rejected your love and light. I'm sorry that I spat on you and told you you had no worth. I'm sorry I didn't believe that Universe would have an inconceivable plan for me. I'm sorry I didn't believe I was sacred or worthy of aid. I'm sorry that I caused you to suffer. I want to recover. i want to receive. I want the fullness of life and love you have been striving for all this time - the same life and love I have subconsciously squelched because i didn't believe you were worthy of it.</i></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"><i>An example of pictures I draw when I'm too hurting to journal </i></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIuTid0ZLWTpbfMy8ONY6IuR0qzT-78ylKLEhXxl6IBZ3HlOwIY9ZczvayBLvViHz3TFZRoYUwwXWQ6pB2Wu9kJQ7RzGtm9hrbdUBET3S-PrKENgjp-Uta9hmxaMCLo_sE8P7IiAesCCW5/s1600/20140511_124117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIuTid0ZLWTpbfMy8ONY6IuR0qzT-78ylKLEhXxl6IBZ3HlOwIY9ZczvayBLvViHz3TFZRoYUwwXWQ6pB2Wu9kJQ7RzGtm9hrbdUBET3S-PrKENgjp-Uta9hmxaMCLo_sE8P7IiAesCCW5/s1600/20140511_124117.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">I pack up a house that hasn't sold and a classroom I won't teach in again. I take it one moment at a time. I breathe. I try to let go and not control (that's another big lesson for me!) I look forward and I hold on to hope that what I need, what I want, what i dream for will come in the right time. I try to trust (sigh...lots and lots of life lessons going on here). I stay in touch with friends and family and reach out when I hit lows which thankfully, come fewer and farther between. I'm always afraid that I'll be a pest and annoying when I tell friends and family ONE.MORE.TIME. that I need them, if even to rant or blow off steam because my history with abusive relationships is that eventually I will be annoying and a pain in the ass and someone that just needs to go the f!ck away already. I push my fears away<i> </i>(yep. learning learning learning) </span></span><br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"><i> </i></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">My classroom, packed up</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">A bridge burned - I lit this match</span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMdjYT6mjS2G5gWu-zD3P6TyFVFuUHMOSobYJqEopIzsNmeKAFHXJb7TxzxqG8w7MxyYrmHhQYpjxrHeRMYWkrsNv9o9w4OXUf3cIqSSUHGW1afYYT1hYkTkrsT4KiMV9kcR5X-vD7WeFE/s1600/20140516_105128.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMdjYT6mjS2G5gWu-zD3P6TyFVFuUHMOSobYJqEopIzsNmeKAFHXJb7TxzxqG8w7MxyYrmHhQYpjxrHeRMYWkrsNv9o9w4OXUf3cIqSSUHGW1afYYT1hYkTkrsT4KiMV9kcR5X-vD7WeFE/s1600/20140516_105128.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPGkC6NNgdaI_fVZRAt1sNwVwcxLSGoEYzA9vHZfWeCahREGQspOv6DCoRc5zTbMCAa3vuyXHfbPXZQ3CgbOTj0nbRnoinChvvraJRmJO_Sz8XzvNYOEAB2ErcYmd62ygAqKknKohZy0rq/s1600/20140516_105134.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPGkC6NNgdaI_fVZRAt1sNwVwcxLSGoEYzA9vHZfWeCahREGQspOv6DCoRc5zTbMCAa3vuyXHfbPXZQ3CgbOTj0nbRnoinChvvraJRmJO_Sz8XzvNYOEAB2ErcYmd62ygAqKknKohZy0rq/s1600/20140516_105134.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSYT_2aPG_yl8sSghNyCFOkanw_vM1L3FKowA86ah28S8DOMvkfS1CJHzsea2cVmR3irajmJ0QHikbx1k7N3lsDslK7qTyBJadmFwFLbtSxU1tGpPTUhcDiygzFUyGDbk8SpaNMfTinKpH/s1600/20140516_105150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSYT_2aPG_yl8sSghNyCFOkanw_vM1L3FKowA86ah28S8DOMvkfS1CJHzsea2cVmR3irajmJ0QHikbx1k7N3lsDslK7qTyBJadmFwFLbtSxU1tGpPTUhcDiygzFUyGDbk8SpaNMfTinKpH/s1600/20140516_105150.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjy1ckoyG4V0lRA_kukjq-m-1CHaAWY7LjYvFIwZLKihNZhKPLB-y5zcMp1hcEXTsfWye9XX2vH3hRdeVb-HgMbgTv9bFMSUWdSdxA6PfqAzQz2s38eqjFtP0lJ2QX51lvvXxfrallmLqV/s1600/20140516_105203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjy1ckoyG4V0lRA_kukjq-m-1CHaAWY7LjYvFIwZLKihNZhKPLB-y5zcMp1hcEXTsfWye9XX2vH3hRdeVb-HgMbgTv9bFMSUWdSdxA6PfqAzQz2s38eqjFtP0lJ2QX51lvvXxfrallmLqV/s1600/20140516_105203.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"><i> </i></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">There is a bridge that keeps me tethered, the kids, the new puppy, my friend's German exchange student. </span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null">Hydrocarbon, 8 weeks old, the day we got her </span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaYQsPo6FWuWrohgFbCrtPTJXywVfYoyaVl8nVFZGBXG6j-7mF9_PADLjRXyhQRXJSAiCsO2ISU-Nc8hNDFFZLDbgRR1veNeComiiMKigFwIS0emq2a3t4ijHV7yttMqbm2V9Vz-2w5i3O/s1600/20140323_174324.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaYQsPo6FWuWrohgFbCrtPTJXywVfYoyaVl8nVFZGBXG6j-7mF9_PADLjRXyhQRXJSAiCsO2ISU-Nc8hNDFFZLDbgRR1veNeComiiMKigFwIS0emq2a3t4ijHV7yttMqbm2V9Vz-2w5i3O/s1600/20140323_174324.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
10 weeks</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhls99LfdZtMOU2OwulhexeWUiwrsxcFaRk2TJPrGpP0I-TVNt9q8yYHzLV6Bq1bRSwQDl3Ghes2Ga1xEQ-T-GaYpiTl_zpYJcAdiqUvjQMv9imH0UffWRCXTs4LiEzymYjjc_enmgOnjTQ/s1600/20140328_212317.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhls99LfdZtMOU2OwulhexeWUiwrsxcFaRk2TJPrGpP0I-TVNt9q8yYHzLV6Bq1bRSwQDl3Ghes2Ga1xEQ-T-GaYpiTl_zpYJcAdiqUvjQMv9imH0UffWRCXTs4LiEzymYjjc_enmgOnjTQ/s1600/20140328_212317.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
HOLY COW! 14.2 lbs and growing - 14 weeks</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimy7H_ZU6W9F5GMn9Zi_umxa8XjmeXONnKFBhOkkHVTMFKzm-LSaWj9n439XoFHspm9ozLhfLTppNY735tZz5KhazsbAYfmLbbDNJHpd7pmNirwUSYcX9omQFcmz0pF8XYTp5egzbgykIA/s1600/20140514_124152.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimy7H_ZU6W9F5GMn9Zi_umxa8XjmeXONnKFBhOkkHVTMFKzm-LSaWj9n439XoFHspm9ozLhfLTppNY735tZz5KhazsbAYfmLbbDNJHpd7pmNirwUSYcX9omQFcmz0pF8XYTp5egzbgykIA/s1600/20140514_124152.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
AB and carbon when she was 12 weeks</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWTU9bs-M9LnO4ZFJHbYQrkEX7aW8wBtSW3C8IArLwO81KJn-JjvhWIzg6ypIA-OMG8gV6UFkA5GyzVx6tAjRabLI_smWUAnxObjdAf2pXbFwJ9XgT71Aox094y7Xdgjl-Q1H5uTUzzzG-/s1600/20140407_094649.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWTU9bs-M9LnO4ZFJHbYQrkEX7aW8wBtSW3C8IArLwO81KJn-JjvhWIzg6ypIA-OMG8gV6UFkA5GyzVx6tAjRabLI_smWUAnxObjdAf2pXbFwJ9XgT71Aox094y7Xdgjl-Q1H5uTUzzzG-/s1600/20140407_094649.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
AB at the barn with his favorite horse, Mia</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8zr2gZCbNTkdwSrIhAPeCIlKH-u3nnYX9qh_W60MZhfMelQPjStE8rDlgeVKFCLA_pgbSYrK0Qg0dTlMr5_b2n7WDuYrsTlZx0yc_btB1IR2XVPmT9wY_6mB7xyW2Lga02gc54-AcYFR9/s1600/20140410_192354.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8zr2gZCbNTkdwSrIhAPeCIlKH-u3nnYX9qh_W60MZhfMelQPjStE8rDlgeVKFCLA_pgbSYrK0Qg0dTlMr5_b2n7WDuYrsTlZx0yc_btB1IR2XVPmT9wY_6mB7xyW2Lga02gc54-AcYFR9/s1600/20140410_192354.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
WG's silly face </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(i was talking on the phone with a friend and used foul language)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGAilUUrGQ0KsDW-xcwZxSph_zKZ3fEWfD2QnAUUmVwX1zBGyattNGQIkxYR4YoT92G4ar-ouuf58C6M68r5KRL_5ftQ6B5kgrkXG5cuhZJQUGEYaRt8Izh4U8s14FKxxXacruNK9MN00e/s1600/20140405_091041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGAilUUrGQ0KsDW-xcwZxSph_zKZ3fEWfD2QnAUUmVwX1zBGyattNGQIkxYR4YoT92G4ar-ouuf58C6M68r5KRL_5ftQ6B5kgrkXG5cuhZJQUGEYaRt8Izh4U8s14FKxxXacruNK9MN00e/s1600/20140405_091041.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
WG doing her science using Mom's science book</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin9PspFOzoH8bQaKTjFQQrQaIko4TTJRNhL9ZvK1E9ZiThGEt7Eg0C43drIgVKxELSgkyuZjfQwxtxURed6P9_uWTsz5nYeE2fYqiK2foGbrkm3PhNDjLVK9S7A8On5c1hM8i5LjkJkx55/s1600/20140507_203812.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin9PspFOzoH8bQaKTjFQQrQaIko4TTJRNhL9ZvK1E9ZiThGEt7Eg0C43drIgVKxELSgkyuZjfQwxtxURed6P9_uWTsz5nYeE2fYqiK2foGbrkm3PhNDjLVK9S7A8On5c1hM8i5LjkJkx55/s1600/20140507_203812.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
WG upset that she can't go swimming</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgif5l5l-jZ-fMbxmmwSmpMTmB2Loezr0ZClAKDOkbqUJ4jzHcallLEOKarWubQ3V12bb5kr4XkdoxSmmM__JVhLx8aQMyAR6hiE72TFddVNZ6GCPMFbyMOzXEnrbHxE2Iofs32tvEz2-y9/s1600/20140511_133737.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgif5l5l-jZ-fMbxmmwSmpMTmB2Loezr0ZClAKDOkbqUJ4jzHcallLEOKarWubQ3V12bb5kr4XkdoxSmmM__JVhLx8aQMyAR6hiE72TFddVNZ6GCPMFbyMOzXEnrbHxE2Iofs32tvEz2-y9/s1600/20140511_133737.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Sissy on a rock at a gas station some where in Virginia</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-U7MB7WZxSa7bsFBRbMBQMXiUclWsUR3kkPtF8GlHa17dXyd6zgWQRoQkMflaxTHZfivUhg0i9WHE02WHbSzDAfOvpgGgf7AYQVnWad_lp5XPJdRpybLlj3mkZeCZBz2fLnLceTqUXy2l/s1600/20140411_144733.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-U7MB7WZxSa7bsFBRbMBQMXiUclWsUR3kkPtF8GlHa17dXyd6zgWQRoQkMflaxTHZfivUhg0i9WHE02WHbSzDAfOvpgGgf7AYQVnWad_lp5XPJdRpybLlj3mkZeCZBz2fLnLceTqUXy2l/s1600/20140411_144733.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
C~ - she's going home to Berlin in a few weeks! :(</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
yesterday she told me that I'm one of the most amazing people she's ever met :) </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
LOVE U C~!!!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I've promised I will go visit her next year so I can see her and because I have dual citizenship in Germany</div>
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"></span></span><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".7n.$<1400259662239=21932846834-3446566410@mail=1projektitan=1com>.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span class="null"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxbDKRqGFHlg28k1mXHdARZcqX-GoPCztUqRGqAdLPqu5b3zE6um-Zu63HzeJ1i3nCmMNp1_Mhjp-BWQw9UTvRpcJGt3WpkWpri23T1jdQc-tvxLkvLPzxmkLPQvooEJwYdd7xoiqKQxaS/s1600/20140423_184225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxbDKRqGFHlg28k1mXHdARZcqX-GoPCztUqRGqAdLPqu5b3zE6um-Zu63HzeJ1i3nCmMNp1_Mhjp-BWQw9UTvRpcJGt3WpkWpri23T1jdQc-tvxLkvLPzxmkLPQvooEJwYdd7xoiqKQxaS/s1600/20140423_184225.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-1046777975201704412014-05-09T11:23:00.000-07:002014-05-09T11:23:17.584-07:00Listen for the Harmonious SongMy chemistry students threw me a surprise farewell party today. Pizza, pecan pie, soda, and gifts! I am so blessed, loved and honored. Did we get in any review for the exam next week? Nah... ok. I think we covered about ten problems from last year's exam and maybe made a joke or two about entropy, phase changes as the ice melted and some discussion of pressures of gases in the soda. That counts.<br />
<br />
Good thing we still have Monday for review. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Mug - "you are a gift, you make everyday a present" </div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisFbOroJOcuQYI3hEyvaql7B-U1U7GrZCwW83gWo1PesrCScCk-j6PalQltmc-ugC4hseBMD12Yr5zX-3MmDTM2XTTQEOI9SkdRk1Y0UWmk3ni0QtSjmRv1KavfxBMs1Tm8Ww8iw9vGl1y/s1600/mug.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisFbOroJOcuQYI3hEyvaql7B-U1U7GrZCwW83gWo1PesrCScCk-j6PalQltmc-ugC4hseBMD12Yr5zX-3MmDTM2XTTQEOI9SkdRk1Y0UWmk3ni0QtSjmRv1KavfxBMs1Tm8Ww8iw9vGl1y/s1600/mug.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The card says, "Dear friend, in case you're wondering, I notice how much you give, never expecting something in return. I notice that you never forget to listen or laugh or simply look on the bright side...and in case you're wondering, I notice how incredible you are - at being a cheerleader, a therapist, and still finding time to be an amazing friend to me.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
gifts included:</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
flowers, mug, two new scarves, headbands, earrings, decorative box and starbucks</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(I'm an easy person to know how to shop for. These are all perfect!!!)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT2IlgqtD5B4paYSLaVwNyXdARs7c-RHpG_j8Xu_0aKsQlecVq8aTiGZgkHzRdykBamcyefZAez6sY1ipMT0YUs6fVwMvgJK0CE5zM1x1RqazpqbBXlluxjzbTXYVKq0wlgwh327yo3Ah9/s1600/gifts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT2IlgqtD5B4paYSLaVwNyXdARs7c-RHpG_j8Xu_0aKsQlecVq8aTiGZgkHzRdykBamcyefZAez6sY1ipMT0YUs6fVwMvgJK0CE5zM1x1RqazpqbBXlluxjzbTXYVKq0wlgwh327yo3Ah9/s1600/gifts.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Signature in the card: "I can't express to you enough how fortunate we all have been to have you as a science teacher throughout the years. You're one of the strongest people I know without a doubt. Nothing can make my day more than hearing your VERY loud laugh that leads to tears! It's going to be so weird and upsetting without seeing you and your uplifting spirit. You'll definitely be missed!!"<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Selfie in my new scarf and headband</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzzwysf2cZr8lUEwVSU__Uwm8tH98DdCt4rJEChA9tFXln7hGc3_5EHxeCSiRg72gwz-wakW1PrtymqZBnbuXJH3OIgkLee22sgTh8aSOjneGF__Pz-MHq6PaNFCHoK0-SaN0SAsU64hbJ/s1600/scarf+selfie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzzwysf2cZr8lUEwVSU__Uwm8tH98DdCt4rJEChA9tFXln7hGc3_5EHxeCSiRg72gwz-wakW1PrtymqZBnbuXJH3OIgkLee22sgTh8aSOjneGF__Pz-MHq6PaNFCHoK0-SaN0SAsU64hbJ/s1600/scarf+selfie.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Signature: "you are amazing. I love you."<br />
<br />
Signature: "I love you more than anything"<br />
<br />
Signature: "thank you Ms Jennie! We'll miss you!"<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Didn't intend to take a grumpy full selfie</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I have a sinus infection but really, I'm so happy!!!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgryGBbtXX9ZcXU5PoryHD588UWBH4hAgobyGlqKs83Y0ivxAel9nqHI_aiSlHsuTO_xIT5h8b0Fs3ZwYyfg9tdCh8xNUNedV323vgIzFFRsxChGhhqzNbub5BlxYDwk4nSHxunBXvcvePT/s1600/new+scarf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgryGBbtXX9ZcXU5PoryHD588UWBH4hAgobyGlqKs83Y0ivxAel9nqHI_aiSlHsuTO_xIT5h8b0Fs3ZwYyfg9tdCh8xNUNedV323vgIzFFRsxChGhhqzNbub5BlxYDwk4nSHxunBXvcvePT/s1600/new+scarf.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Signature: "thanks for teaching us this year. You are an amazing, wonderful person and dont' ever forget that! it'll be OK" [1] <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Talented artist, Nikki Ackerman drew me in the TARDIS</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgSQSd-YBjD16ixzbkahAb1ix32EbzOJW5xlZadxGEtWvsMcodHk7NCXUGQ8NgF3QO66F4vRKyi3N94eurdQMwFeOSnBa3ZRzG8IsekzPD44URMBFNObwA4EZfU9SRXE4LN8-_KCsMdU4t/s1600/me+in+tardis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgSQSd-YBjD16ixzbkahAb1ix32EbzOJW5xlZadxGEtWvsMcodHk7NCXUGQ8NgF3QO66F4vRKyi3N94eurdQMwFeOSnBa3ZRzG8IsekzPD44URMBFNObwA4EZfU9SRXE4LN8-_KCsMdU4t/s1600/me+in+tardis.jpg" height="320" width="236" /></a></div>
Signature: "best wishes to you in all future endeavors. Good things will follow you wherever you go. You will always be missed at ECA." <br />
<br />
Signature: "It won't be the same without you, friend. I'll be sure to see you on our next trip to PA!"<br />
<br />
So much love and light. When I go about my day, doing what I do all day long, I stay in the moment, never thinking too far ahead because it overwhelms me, in particular during this journey of grief I've been on. I never think that I am giving off so much love and light, let alone that it would be reflected back. I only think <i>wow, I sure do love teaching! </i>I love my students, I love being in the classroom, I love learning and I love science. There are days they drive me crazy but I hope that even on those days, there are teachable moments even if it isn't about science. <br />
<br />
There has always been something about Chemistry class though. I've never been able to put my finger on it. My major was in Biology and Physical Science is like candy to my brain (really - i just love love love teaching 8th grade physical science - god's honest truth!). But Chemistry? Maybe it's the age of the students, mostly juniors and seniors? Maybe it's the content? Maybe it's the fact that it's the last class of the day? I don't know. Haven't done a scientific investigation to determine which is the dependent variable in the equation but the product is always a fun class.<br />
<br />
Of course, I've been thrown a party but I have yet to sell my house or find a job. So far there have been no offers on the house and I have had only three interviews, two already confirming that another candidate has been selected. All of the other resumes have been rejected. I know I'm a good teacher. No, I'm a GREAT teacher. It is a strength I'm proud of. I can't imagine doing anything different. So I am sad that in order to move, I might have to contemplate something other than teaching. What would I do? *shaking head* It's in me, in my blood, in my DNA. Teaching is who i am and what I do. <br />
<br />
I will miss my school. I've taught off and on for 17 years at <a href="http://evanschristianacademy.org/" target="_blank">ECA</a>. The staff has always been flexible when it comes to the issues that pop up with my kids, in particular this year because Sissy's EBD program ends at 1:30 so she spends last period in my classroom every day. My Chemistry students have "enjoyed" having her. LOL - at the very least, they have a true appreciation for why moving to a state where we can get better resources is vital, despite the fact that they will miss me next year - and I, them.<br />
<br />
So... I don't know. it remains to be seen yet. Which, admittedly, drives me crazy. I have no control over a house selling or another school choosing to hire me. I can't use students as references. ;) <br />
<br />
Every day I process a little more of my pain and sorrow. Today I wrote on my hand a reminder to recite when the ennui creeps in (and it does, many times a day, and sometimes it overtakes me and the tears just drop like rain without warning)<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>I AM LIGHT. I AM LOVE.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>LISTEN FOR THE HARMONIOUS SONGS [2]</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I am overwhelmed once again, as my students and my school have affirmed that I am light. I am love. We create harmonious songs together. Thank you. All of you. xxoo</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i> </i> </div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4CMt0ATXbt5L77o2mKWDEhtdFme3qvh9hFFElySmJiGAi6QuuL6hREIVoX-Kmq1qowM2Pp6G2nyhF38z0DRBChaq9w52FuNY6x5crxm1Eyhpa4DNRzuwpbLFIqlmMV4eyfcOCj1ElLiwQ/s1600/Desktop+Background.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4CMt0ATXbt5L77o2mKWDEhtdFme3qvh9hFFElySmJiGAi6QuuL6hREIVoX-Kmq1qowM2Pp6G2nyhF38z0DRBChaq9w52FuNY6x5crxm1Eyhpa4DNRzuwpbLFIqlmMV4eyfcOCj1ElLiwQ/s1600/Desktop+Background.bmp" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
[1]0K for chemistry students means absolute zero or zero Kelvin, an ongoing joke we had in class<br />
[2] Tosha Silver - "Anyone you mesh well with has a complementary vibe. A harmonious song is thrumming in each of your souls"<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-56581411937351098212014-05-04T20:22:00.001-07:002014-05-04T20:22:36.812-07:00Tell me when it's safeWe wrapped up instruction in my classroom this week. Concluded the year with lessons about reptiles, birds and mammals. For the day of the reptile lesson, I made a mad dash into the art room and snagged a pottery turtle a student had made, painted in a lovely red and yellow checkered pattern. I dashed upstairs to my classroom and put it on my desk in time for class to begin. Of course, the students were curious about the turtle and I feigned ignorance, claiming that I thought it was cute, it made me happy and I just wanted to pet it. Then halfway through the lesson they all groaned and rolled their eyes. Nope, nothing a teacher does is arbitrary.<br />
<br />
Personally, the turtle was a fitting symbol. Oh how I want to dash into a turtle shell and hide! I want to sequester myself in a hard shell house and come out only when I think it's safe to do so. Truth, I have only myself to blame for the recent upheaval, planning to move the kids and I so far from all they have ever known, to a state that I am certain will get us more assistance for their care and therefore improve my ability to earn income to support the four of us. OK, I also want to be out of Georgia, so it's personal. But when I have so many doctors and therapists agreeing with me that this is a right choice, how do I not follow through?<br />
<br />
Still, I want to turtle myself. I'd prefer a purple shell over the red and yellow checkered one a student made. This is one enormous leap of faith. Sell a house, find a job, move the kids and me so far, and relocate to a different state to start fresh. All.by.myself. what's more, I want to be in PA but I'm having a hard time landing a job however, Syracuse, NY contacted me for the second round of interviews for the public school district. I don't know anyone in Syracuse! but...a job is a job...<br />
<br />
O.o<br />
<br />
I think I'm crazy.<br />
<br />
Darn it, I want to go HOME! Or at least to the land of the functional humans. And wow, I'm lonely. Unless you've been a single parent of disabled teenagers that are ages 2 and 8 comparatively and a rambunctious 9 year old (who is functionally my oldest child), you have NO idea how lonely it can be. Get out to mingle with adults? Pbft. Yeah. not happening. I am texting and calling people all day long and on the weekends crying and practically begging them to spend time with me so I have contact with functional adult humans. I text a morning funny to everyone and last night texted a picture of a glass of wine to toast to my friends (since they weren't with me drinking it too). *sigh* This weekend I got lucky. Spent time with my friend G yesterday and with S and C this evening. That doesn't normally happen. (thanks ladies! xxoo)<br />
<br />
And let's talk about the crying thing, shall we? *rolls eyes* It can stop anytime it wants to now. Today? No tears. *cue squeals of congratulations* But this past week? Let's say, I bought two more boxes of tissues today. I know, some of you are concerned and actually, I'm very grateful for the concern. My friend A is worried that this is more of a mood imbalance and a reader is concerned that I should consider hospital care. *nodding head in acknowledgement* Rest assured, I am doing a self-check daily, sometimes throughout the day, to be sure that i am safe. I always text or call someone when I hit the low spots. I journal, I talk it through. I use the coping skills I used in all of those years of therapy. I stay on my medications and herbal supplements. I exercise, eat healthy, balanced meals and get plenty of sleep. So what's the deal? In my daily reading (all therapeutic or affirming volumes from various sources), I came upon this:<br />
<br />
"Recovery requires acceptance of what you are feeling and embracing these
feelings in order to heal them. Your emotions are powerful tools
because they provide you with messages and signals if you know how to
listen to them. They are screaming at you now to take notice, and to go
within and heal yourself. That is why they are so 'loud' and have
reached this level of pain, because until now you <i>were ignoring them.</i>" ~Melanie Tonia Evans<br />
<br />
Sadness, fear, loneliness, pain, sorrow, heartache, anxiety - all of these plague me daily. I can't satisfy them. They speak so loudly. The question becomes, how do I meet these needs so they will go? I need to find a way to speak to my broken parts and heal them once and for all. I didn't cause these events in my life. I can't cure them and I can't control them. I must learn to love myself. I must learn to trust. I must learn to receive what is meant for me. So, that is the deal with all the crying. If I push it away, it will come back again and success, happiness, healing, hope and love will avert my grasp again. <br />
<br />
Meanwhile, Sissy is beginning a new medication as soon as the doctor completes the prior authorization to have medicaid approve it. With C's help today, we cleaned Sissy's room, removing two 30 gal trash bags of refuse from her 6x8 safe room and discovered many items she has stolen or claimed as her own from other persons or from around the house (she never wears things with pockets and I usually pat her down after we have been out. HOW is she pocketing these things?!?) AB has changed how he doses one of his medications and we have added a PRN because he is beginning to spend more time in fantasy than in reality (read: watching for schizophrenia). WG is still struggling with peer issues in the classroom but after an entire school year, the teachers have finally worked out a functional behavior modification plan. (seriously? with four weeks left?!) We will likely have to rehome our chihuahua when we move. The new puppy will become a certified emotional support dog for AB so we can keep her. I am wrapping up another school year. I've packed (with help) more than 25 boxes. The house is listed with a realtor. My inbox in inundated with job positions to apply for. I have steam-cleaned the carpets. I'm having a yard sale on Saturday. And all the daily nuances of life still occurring in the midst of it. Then spice it up with the crying jags and that about sums it up.<br />
<br />
My head hurts. My body aches. My ears ring.<br />
<br />
Anyone want a cup of tea? I'm going to hide in my lavender turtle shell. Tell me when it's safe to come out.Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-84809743460100348762014-04-30T19:32:00.000-07:002014-04-30T19:33:01.157-07:00Darkest before the DawnI stumbled upon the phrase, <i>darkest before the dawn, </i> today when I was reading a book. I'd forgotten the adage and it immediately struck me.<br />
<br />
<i>Right,</i> I told myself. <i>You know this inherent truth. Just keep going. Don't stop. You're almost there.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Then just as quickly as the moment of clarity came, bringing a small measure of hope, the sorrow and grief returned. So, I said a prayer, accepting that right now, I'm hurting. I asked for healing and hope and for the ability to see the joy in the things before me today.<br />
<br />
Yesterday I decided to embrace my hurting side instead of sending it away, ignoring it, or being aggravated by it. I've continued to weed through my posts from the timeline of this blog and I'm overwhelmed by how much struggle and heartbreak my family has endured in five years. Then I say to myself, <i>see? SEE? This is why. You buried the pain and now, to be free at last, you must push through it.</i> It is darkest before the dawn.<br />
<br />
Today, Sissy's psychiatrist said he believes she is emotionally 2 years old. He is prognosticating that her disorders are presenting as more autistic behavior than anything else. He believes she is not intentionally making the choices she makes, in an effort to manipulate and triangulate, rather that she truly isn't thinking it through and perhaps isn't capable of thinking it through. She is, as she is, as she will always will be. At age 14, we now know what Sissy as an adult will be like. An emotional 2 year old. He agrees, moving out of Georgia is a good plan because there is so little here. Actually, he said he was more concerned about ME than Sissy's progress. (Sissy's psychiatrist works on the same team as AB's so they compare family data.)<br />
<br />
One more confirmation that my choice is a sound one, even though, at this point, I am still without a job and the house has yet to sell and therefore I don't know exactly where I will land or what that future will look like and it is very, very scary, lonely, overwhelming and quite frankly, nauseating when I stop to contemplate it.<br />
<br />
So I burn incense and sage. I use aromatherapy lotion. I snuggle my teddy and journal with my purple pen. I read life affirming books and text my friends. I eat healthily and get regular exercise. I jump on the trampoline and play with the puppy. <br />
<br />
And I cry.<br />
<br />
I cry because my heart is broken.<br />
I cry because life has been unfair.<br />
I cry because humans can be so mean.<br />
I cry because I hurt.<br />
I cry because this isn't how I am.<br />
I cry because I'm lonely.<br />
I cry because I work so hard every day.<br />
I cry because my head is full of noise and I can't quiet it.<br />
I cry because my ears always ring.<br />
I cry because I haven't loved myself.<br />
I cry because I'm scared.<br />
I cry because there is so much hurt around me and i have no reserves to give to others right now.<br />
I cry because I'm not a selfish person but that's what I need right now, to be selfish.<br />
I cry because change is hard.<br />
I cry because I can't predict the future.<br />
I cry because I don't trust.<br />
I cry because my faith is so small.<br />
I cry because it seems hope is shattered.<br />
I cry because I need physical affection.<br />
I cry because I'm overwhelmed.<br />
I cry because <i>what if...</i><br />
<br />
Now, I will answer the hurting part of me with <i>I hear you, brokenness. What do you need</i>?<br />
<br />
And it says - I need you to love yourself.<br />
Love is patient. Be patient with yourself.<br />
Love is kind. Be kind to yourself. <br />
Love does not boast. Do not boast about yourself but DO be proud of what you have done.<br />
Love does not dishonor others. Do not dishonor yourself.<br />
Love is not easily angered. Stop being angry with yourself.<br />
Love keeps no record of wrongs. Stop thinking about what you may or may not have done in err.<br />
Love does not delight in evil. Don't let the bad things that happened consume you.<br />
Love rejoices in truth. You are an amazing person. Own it.<br />
Love protects. Protect yourself from potentially harmful situations and people.<br />
Love hopes. Yes. you can do this. HOPE for yourself.<br />
Love perseveres. You do this every day. Thank yourself for perseverance.<br />
Love trusts. Learn to trust yourself. You don't make bad choices. You land on your feet. Trust.<br />
<br />
So I will cry until my brokenness is erased by love and this time, I'm starting by loving myself. The dawn will come. It always does. I need only to wait. And while I wait, I will heal my broken parts.<br />
<br />Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-60187214888793978862014-04-27T09:37:00.001-07:002014-04-27T09:53:59.775-07:00Even the Strongest CryI have tried desperately to stop the tears and the grieving. I've made a concerted effort to employ all the therapeutic tools I have. I text friends and family when I'm in a moment of ennui and need a hug or a word to boost me out. I'm reading life affirming texts. I journal daily. I recite powerful quotes and verses that are positive and supportive. I refuse to claim despair and negativity. I stay present, embracing the beauty and love around me, in the moment.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I can't shake it. So I cry.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm so tired of this. I'm stuck. I want something different in life. I want something different for my children. I NEED it for my health and sanity. Sissy and AB need it for their health and wellness. I'm faltering, waning, I've lost my footing, I'm so lost. I hear all the friends calling to me that I can do this, I'm strong, I will make it, it will happen, I will find happy again and it will be better than I imagined. So few of them are here, in my present locale. So I cry.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Trouble is, every time I think I have hold of happy, hope, healing and help, it disappears just as quickly, and sometimes with painful, soul shattering jabs. So I cry.<br />
<br />
I tell myself that my happiness needs to be on my shoulders alone, that I must believe and see happiness to achieve it. Walk in happiness in the here and now and it will be exactly what you are holding. These are undeniable truths and I fully admit them. Like right now, as I type this, my friend is playing beautiful songs on her piano. If I isolate the pain, I am fully enjoying her talent.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
That should be lovely, yes? But I'm here at her house this weekend because my ex is in MY house for a weekend visit with the children. One more completely unfair and immutable injustice in my life. He doesn't have a dwelling place where the children can visit him overnight so he has to be in my house and I have to leave. MY house. MY home. MY things. MY life. Every other month. And on the other months? Well... he is supposed to take them to his mother's but he moved to a rented room in town so now those visits are just extended day visits. (He also visits them i my home on weekdays) So I cry.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I could say - <i>hey, every two months I get 48 hours kid free and if I move that won't happen anymore</i>. But...I'm so consumed with grief and anxiety that I can't wrap my head around the positive. So I cry.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I want to dream of happiness but I can't. Every time I try, I cry. Because it never happens, my dreams. They pretend to be mine and then *poof* gone. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My email inbox is full of newsfeeds from the various job sites I've joined. I need to spend quality time applying for the new jobs that I qualify for. When I get home this afternoon I will begin packing like a mad woman because I've decided to list with a realtor instead of selling on my own. The school year here is nearly over. I have no employment for the summer. I don't have enough money to carry me through the summer if I don't sell the house at the very least because I've spent so much making improvements on it to make it marketable (just this past week I had to put in a new hot water heater). </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
OMG!</div>
<div>
I'm so freaking out.</div>
<div>
And I'm so alone</div>
<div>
And scared</div>
<div>
And panicked that this is going to blow up</div>
<div>
and I want to punch myself for not just being happy because so many have so much less</div>
<div>
but</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I NEED THIS TO CHANGE!!!!!!!!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I can't go on like this anymore.</div>
<div>
I just.... can't.</div>
<div>
so i cry.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
18 years ago, we had a similar planetary alignment as we have now. We had a lunar eclipse two weeks ago and we have a solar eclipse tomorrow. 18 years ago I graduated from college in May, got married in June and moved to Georgia in August. 18 years later, the only thing I'm hanging onto from that huge life transition is my degree. I have gained three children and a ton of life experience. The timing isn't coincidental, I'm certain. It's time for a change. I'm certain. It WILL change. I'm certain. Still...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I cry.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Even the Strongest</b></div>
<div>
<i>copyright laws apply - work is original of blog author</i></div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
Ticking clock, tell the hour</div>
<div>
Time is up for me.</div>
<div>
Sun, rise, shine your power;</div>
<div>
Day that I be free.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Birds, sing, in leafy trees</div>
<div>
Scurry, ants! Work fast.</div>
<div>
Wind, blow your strongest breeze,</div>
<div>
Move my life at last.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Strong, says Earth, to my soul,</div>
<div>
Burdens are no match.</div>
<div>
Love, Life says, you are whole,</div>
<div>
Let your healing hatch.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Elements, I am weak,</div>
<div>
Happy day runs far.</div>
<div>
Joy and Hope do not speak</div>
<div>
Fear and Sorrow spar.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Tears, a well, salty pain,</div>
<div>
Flow, rapid river.</div>
<div>
When I look back again</div>
<div>
The heart, it shivers.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Even the strongest cry</div>
<div>
It is not weakness.</div>
<div>
No need for reason why,</div>
<div>
Most do cry for less.</div>
<div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
*******************************************************</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I have asked Source, "why? Why did you bring my life happiness and trick me like that ? Let me see happy to be beaten down with that much more pain?</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Then I say to myself ' Why have you not loved yourself enough to see the faults and the illnesses before it is too late? Why do you want to fix everyone and never yourself? Why do you give so much away?"</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
And Source says, "exactly. That is why. So, you are strong. I showed you what to fix. Now fix it."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>I am not the poor victim of a thief, I am an adventurer in search of treasure. </i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>~Paulo Coelho, "The Alchmemist"</i></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-39792768839862230582014-04-20T19:08:00.000-07:002014-05-05T08:53:01.337-07:00TimelinesLast weekend the kids and I went to PA to visit for the weekend. I wanted to see their reaction to the friends and family I reconnected with in the beginning of March. The journey home was reflection time for me and I decided to use the following two days as a time for silence and rest, using the blood moon lunar eclipse as my launching pad.On that evening, I vowed to be "married" to myself - honoring, respecting and loving myself - because I had come to the realization that I have never loved myself enough to see my own worth and as result, have compromised far too much in the interests of others. Noticing that I had been grinding hard for six weeks to jettison us to a different place in life, I decided to rest on the laurels of the positive energy I had already spent, trusting that the ripples I had already created would not be for naught.<br />
<br />
The two days became six. On Friday, not coincidentally, I declared it as the day I went "dark", removing my light and energy from all, capitalizing on the Good Friday advent, accepting that my old life must die. I am in self-preservation and will stay in this state until I feel I am safe to give to others again. Today, Easter, I confess I did anticipate to have a resurrection experience if you will, a sort of epiphany or clearing of the dust and an answer or two. I wasn't surprised when none came. So I wait. And reflect. Here is where my thoughts traveled to today:<br />
<br />
<b>TIMELINE</b><br />
February 2009, a day or two before valentine's day, my ex confided that he had not been paying a credit card bill for six months. The van loan was with the same creditor. Without an immediate payment of $1280 and a remittance agreement for the remainder of the debt, my van would be repossessed. Thankfully, my parents were able to assist so I could keep my vehicle.<br />
<br />
March 2009, I went to the senior pastor of my church in confidence to discuss how to proceed in my marriage after such a devastating financial betrayal. He recommended I make an exit plan to the marriage and directed me toward the pastoral counselor.<br />
<br />
March 2009 - I began individual counseling in secret out of fear that my ex would be angry that I was getting self-help<br />
<br />
May 2009 I confided to my ex that I was in counseling and that I was taking a trip to Seattle in July to see my sister<br />
<br />
July 2009 - I went to Seattle. It was a three day trip. I spent much time in reflection, talking to my sister and her friends. We spent an evening on the beach - I remember thinking about how amazing life could be somewhere else and how difficult my life was back home. The morning of my flight home, I walked around Green Lake and wept the entire walk. The flight home was no different. I knew then I would have a long, hard road ahead of me toward recovery and happiness.<br />
<br />
November 2009 - i began this blog and Sissy went to RTC for the first time<br />
<br />
March 2010 - Sissy discharged and two or three days later WG was bit by a dog, requiring 27 stitches<br />
<br />
Until March 2011 - sissy had several short term hospitalizations and many ER trips for suicidal ideation. I stayed in therapy. June 2011 AB almost ended up in short term care but we began an antipsychotic immediately and circumvented it<br />
<br />
March 2011 - Sissy returned to RTC<br />
<br />
April 2011 - I had a nervous breakdown with a string of panic attacks in a short time frame. Began medication and stayed in therapy. My ex began attending therapy with me.<br />
<br />
June 2011 - Sissy discharged<br />
<br />
Aug 2011 - Sissy returned to RTC<br />
<br />
Oct 2011 - things escalated out of control in my marriage<br />
<br />
Dec 2011 - I left my ex, Sissy discharged, two days later WG was bit by a second dog requiring another 18 stitches<br />
<br />
Jan 2012 - I filed for a protective order and took possession of the marital home<br />
<br />
Feb 2012 - TPO hearing, judge appointed a GAL and I filed for divorce<br />
<br />
Mar 2013 - Divorce finalized<br />
<br />
May 2013 - redid my bedroom and master bathroom <br />
<br />
Aug 2013 - Therapy was concluded<br />
<br />
Nov 2013 - Sissy had crisis stabilization - i began to realize that staying in GA, doing this by myself was too much, too hard, too overwhelming and I needed to change it. The crying began.<br />
<br />
Mar 2014 - Journey to home state, PA to see what I could see, came home, fixed up house and put it on market and started job hunt<br />
<br />
Apr 2014 - I still cry. Every day. I want so much which by comparison is so little.<br />
<br />
It has been a very long five years. I am unequivocally NOT the same person I was then. The children are indelibly changed for the better. I am making strides daily to improve our station in life but it feels slow. I am always told that I am amazing, incredible, an inspiration, i should write this story, I have so much to give, people could never do what I do, they don't know HOW i do what I do, they can handle WG but Sissy and AB, not so much, they are praying for me, they cheer me on and tell me to hang in there and I can do this and GO GO GO.<br />
<br />
But i don't want that.<br />
In fact, it sounds like clanging cymbals in my ear.<br />
noise noise noise noise<br />
<br />
I have been crying out at the top of my lungs to any and all that will hear me - I'm done. Burning fumes. I need help. This is too much for me. I'm alone, I'm scared, I'm financially strapped, I have no benefits, I'm not getting younger, the children's needs aren't any easier and it's me. all.day.long.<br />
<br />
From Sunday night last week until Tuesday night I had spent 48 hours without adult contact - talking to a psychiatrist and waving at the school secretary doesn't count. 48 hours!!!<br />
<br />
I called my neighbor in tears and begged her to come over and hug me.<br />
<br />
If it wasn't for texting my friends, I wouldn't talk to ANYONE that wasn't a child that needed me.<br />
<br />
I have no social life. I don't get out. I go to bed alone, i wake up alone and it's me with the kids without ceasing. I have to be on my A game all the time with Sissy. AB ... he's not difficult but he is socially awkward and angry if you don't listen when he wants to speak and tell you everything he has to say. WG is stressed, angry and feeling uncared for. Me too. All of everything to keep this household and family running is on my shoulders without end.<br />
<br />
I want so much for life to be different, better, hopeful, healed, whole, happy, fulfiling, vivacious. It feels so far away. Akin to the journey to Mount Everest. Reaching the summit can not be done without first camping on the side of the mountain, just one day's hike from the pinnacle, for a month. It takes that long for the lungs to acclimate to the low oxygen levels. If you journey without waiting, you will die.<br />
<br />
Metaphorically, I am at that campsite on the side of the mountain, the summit in my sights, knowing I could reach it in one day's hike but also knowing if I force it, it will kill me. So here I sit, resting. Waiting. Chomping at the bit. Trying to enjoy the present. Itching to know what else I can do in the interim. Is moving the best choice for the kids and I? Today, my answer is a shoulder shrug and more tears. I know that in five years, I have traveled long and hard and it is time for the tide to turn in my favor.<br />
<br />
<b>My Easter Meditation/Prayer</b><br />
<b>"</b>What if the highest expression of the personal Divine is you, precisely as you are in this very moment, in all your full authentic and wounded glory?" ~Tosha Silver<br />
<b> </b><br />
<i>i will not fix anyone but me and what is needed for the kids. I need to see a miraculous turn of tide on my behalf. Today selfishness is OK. </i><br />
<i>I can not sell a house - without God</i><br />
<i>I can not move to a new life - without God</i><br />
<i>I can not find a job - without God</i><br />
<i>I can not get hope - without God</i><br />
<i>I can not trust - without God</i><br />
<i>I can not find healing - without God</i><br />
<i>I can not find peace - without God</i><br />
<i>I can not get resources for my kids - without God</i><br />
<i>I can not love unconditionally - without God</i><br />
<i>I can not wake daily - without God</i><br />
<i>I can not endure aloneness - without God</i><br />
<i>I can not persevere - without God</i><br />
<i>I can not find light bringers - without God</i><br />
<i>I can not restore my life - without God</i><br />
<i>I can not find a life partner - without God</i><br />
<i>I can not create goals - without God</i><br />
<i>I can not manifest dreams - without God</i><br />
<br />
<i>Almighty, I am empty of me. I have nothing left. In my weakness be strong. Do what is best - supply my needs, meet the wants that are good and pure, set my feet on the path you have for me, direct me to the best for the children. Help me be my best only for those I am intended to provide for. Cross my path with the people I am divined to meet. Restore in all ways, all that has been taken by the greed, anger, pain and anguish of mankind. Help me discern when I am making myself vulnerable again. I've made my plans, now direct my steps toward healing, hope, light and love. I accept that I do not know my best. I will myself to trust that you do. Be swift and may your decisions be clear for all so there is no one to give praise or thanks to but you. Then, should this story be light and hope for others, give me the ability to share it.</i><br />
<br />
<i>I Submit. </i><br />
<div class="composeBoxWrapper GCUXF0KCPJB">
<iframe aria-label="Edit post. Compose mode." class="composeBox editable" frameborder="0" id="postingComposeBox" name="Rich text editor" style="background-color: white; height: 100%; padding: 0px;"></iframe> </div>
Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-347324365882583578.post-7239944537162662882014-04-06T22:32:00.000-07:002014-05-21T05:01:42.665-07:00TransformationIn physical science, we wrapped up the unit on energy. It can not be created or destroyed, it can only be transformed. Do you know, that unit had some serious metaphorical overlaps for me! <br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have spent much time in quiet reflection. I have read and reread my posts here and in my private journal. I recognize that for those readers that don't know me IRL, my journey since August reads as though I am bipolar, swinging from a very happy, blissful person to a suddenly sullen, sorrowful soul. Please trust me when I tell you, that isn't the case. I will sum it up as grief. Nevertheless, I have sorted, processed, thought and ultimately transformed my energy. I have come to the conclusion, whether I liked it or not, it has been for the best that I did not move last summer as I originally planned. For me, being here in this house and in Georgia one more year, was what I needed. </div>
<div>
I have learned that I am a bold, amazing woman that is capable of incredible things. I have gained incredible confidence in myself. I have learned what I need and what I want and even enjoyed the astounding thought that the two might finally overlap. I have a clearer understanding of what is required for the children and I and how to get those needs met. I trust. I have faith, hope, healing, light and love. I have shaken off my fear and buried my demons. I have learned who I am, the REAL Jennie, the person I was before an abusive marriage, the person I was meant to be. And I like her! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And best of all, I have done it by myself. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Now. Have I LIKED doing it by myself? Uh.....no.</div>
<div>
Has it made me angry that I've been by myself? Ayup.</div>
<div>
Have I wanted to hurt things and people and the universe because of it? Mmmhmmm</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But I did it anyway. I even kinda smile and laugh a little bit now. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Yeah. I still cry every day. Some times deep, shaking sobs. If you get a text from me around 7 pm, just know it's because I'm blowing up again. yep yep. Sun goes down, I fall apart. The loneliness. It's killing me. I am believing with insane, blind faith that what I want and what I need will overlap and I will finally be on the path I was intended for in life. As water takes the easiest path when pulled by gravity and across landscapes, I am believing my life will do the same. I'm believing like a mad woman that what I know to be true in my heart will be true in reality. I am in want of only time and the transformation of my energy.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The house is just about as good as I'm going to get it. I did a few more "honey do" list chores this weekend to finish the piddly repairs. There are big things this house needs but it is live-able. An investor's dream because flipping it should be easy. Or made ready for rent. Now to get someone to agree with me and make an offer...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Finding a job? Pbft. I got an email for a phone interview but it's in an area four hours north of where I want to be and in a different state. I was on a job board for another locale because a few months ago I thought my life was headed on a different path and I forgot to pull my resume down off that site. After texting some friends, I'm going to do the interview anyway. I promised myself I would knock on every door to see what would open to me. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Integrity Singerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09196095126605205738noreply@blogger.com3