I’m in a bad place. I have been. I have been clawing my way through every day. Swimming upstream. I’ve been so broke the stress has given me stomach problems. Again. I’ve been so depressed I am not sleeping well. I have headaches.

It’s been many years since I’ve been so low that I think daily about just not living anymore. I can’t commit suicide because I’m responsible for someone that is vulnerable and needs his mother. That alone feels like a huge weight to carry. A burden.

I tried to see a doctor Wednesday but despite leaving early and being prepared got lost, couldn’t find the office, was late and they made me reschedule.

I miss my therapist. I should call her but I don’t have the money for her counsel right now. I’m spending money I don’t have yet just to stay afloat and feed my kid.

I have an old friend. He’s actually an ex boyfriend. He knows me better than I know myself. He has been checking on me. Gave me some money so I could get groceries.

I’m an adult. Almost 40. This is where I am. Divorcing. Wallowing in self loathing and depression and… this is not where I want to be. I left my ex so I could be happy. I moved out and stretched myself thin financially so my kid would see his mom smile.

I’m failing and I know I shouldn’t focus on how awful I feel. I need to do all the mentally healthy things I know work.

I swear I’m trying. But I’m lonely. People disappoint me. I just want someone real to love me, but not just that… I want to feel it back.

I’m desperate to feel better.


The path 

I’ve only ever told one person the next few things I’m going to write about here. I think to understand someone you have to know where they are coming from. I think you, dear readers, are going to get a piece of me today. 

I didn’t get married for the right reasons me. I was afraid of being alone with a child and ready for a family. It wasn’t a fairytale where I fell in love with him and we lived happily ever after. I have love for him but I was never in love with him. Big difference.

When we were about 2 years in I remember thinking in the shower one day “God couldn’t possibly want me to be unhappy for the rest of my life. Right? I wasn’t made so that I could be sad and never have true love again. That can’t possibly be the truth.”

It would take me another 2 years to figure out if I could leave, and how that would go. In that time I did what any mom would do- I focused on my baby and keeping things “normal” at home. 

I was the version of depressed that you no longer think about. It has engulfed your whole life and you forget you have any other options. I sat with my depression every day like it was a close friend. We shared everything from my quiet time, sitting alone during my baby’s nap, to the moments in between normal life where I almost forgot that we were handcuffed together. It was the silence that rang in my ears every day. 

When I moved to Colorado, away from all of my people, depression became desperate and started snapping and biting me. It demanded attention and to be fed all of my self loathing and doubt and loneliness every day. 

No matter what was going on with me and my husband at the time I was not in the place where I recognized I deserved more. I didn’t see who I was or who I could be any longer. I was a shell with hollowed out eyes walking around. I didn’t care about anything except my son. And I still prayed to God to save me. Save me from my bleak existence. Save me from eternal loneliness and depression. Save me from myself. 

When I say I was standing on the edge of a cliff in my mind I mean it. I was at the point where the black abyss below me looked like a comforting thing that could swallow me whole and finish it all for me. 

There are a couple of things that happened that absolutely saved my life. My child’s eyes, my new job, and a man I met. 

I got a job 3 months after I got to Co Springs. My husband had been calling me a “freeloader” to my face since we moved. Accusing me, his wife of 4 years, of just wanting to live off of him. I had no daycare for my son, and we lived outside of the city on an isolated military base. But, I was not “earning my keep” because our toddler kept me so busy I didn’t always have the house spotless and dinner on the “table” when he got home. 

I tell you this not to bash him but to paint the picture of how life had become. I said “Hi” to Bessy, the cows that were literally in our back yard, every morning, entertained my busy non-verbal 4 yr old, and tried to get housework done. No adult interaction most days till daddy got home, and then he usually had harsh things to say and spent the rest of the evening on the couch playing  a video game or watching tv.

So, I got a job. I now work for a company that I love and turned out to be one of the best things for me. I met lifelong friends and found my way out of a bad place in life all because my ex thought I needed to “earn my keep”. This job provided me with the means to move out and start fresh. It was also the connector to another important occurrence in my life and the reason I met an important person. None of which I could have known starting again in insurance. 

During one of my soon to be ex’s many TDY’s I found myself crying in the tub before bed. My son, who should have been in bed but escaped, came into the bathroom, sat next to the tub, and patted me on the arm. Being autistic my baby isn’t one to always recognize emotion but that night he looked mommy in the eye, took my face in his little hands and squeezed my cheeks. Then he gave me a kiss and went looking for snacks. 

That weekend after my husband got home I had to take one of our cars to get the oil changed. Shortest version goes like this: it didn’t go well and I had to take it to AutoZone after it was serviced. I was not having a good day and the man that helped me was so kind. I talked to him about my new job, my autistic son, and how hard it is to start over in a new state. I told him he should apply at my work, gave him my number so I could refer him, and left. 

I didn’t think twice about any of it. I didn’t wait to hear from him. I wasn’t thinking about any of it making any difference in my life. But that’s how it usually goes right?! 

Three days before that important Saturday I was asking myself and God how I could end all of it and know my babe, my sweet boy, would be ok without me. God answered but I didn’t know it was a reply till so much later. 

The man that I met became what I would call a conduit for the voice from above. I doubt he knows that, but at my darkest place in life God sent me someone to show me the good. To remind me of how chemistry works, to see myself through others eyes, and that I can positively effect others lives as well. 

It’s been a year and I look around and know that without those 3 things-job, little boy, stranger that became a friend-I wouldn’t be where I am.

There’s clearly so much more to the story but for the purposes of this post the point is this: 

You meet people, go through things, and experience hardship all to get to a better/different place in life. No exceptions.

There is no one that will completely understand your journey or see life through your eyes. The path you walk is yours alone. But try to walk that path with clear eyes. See what and who have been put there to guide and assist you. We aren’t meant to live this life alone and you never know what this journey has for you. Focus on your own trek and nth on others and whatever you do don’t judge. You have no idea what lead someone else to where they are. 

Timing, part II

I know I’ve written about the timing in life before friends. It was a few months ago, but I sometimes circle back around to certain subjects in my life. I think we all do. 

I hate the cliche “trust the timing of your life”. It absolutely makes my eye twitch. Any time I’ve read it, or had it said out loud to me, I’ve wanted to slap someone. It’s super not helpful to try to “trust the timing” of your freakin life when you’re struggling. But… I am going to admit to the validity of the phrase.  *sigh* 

I never thought I could have children. It’s a tale filled with lots of TMI kind of details, and we’re going to skip it. Let’s just say that I found a doctor, took some sweet ass supplements, and got knocked up really unexpectedly. 

Had I done that even 9 months earlier I would have gotten preggo with a guy (assuming Av was still possibly genetically flawed) who would have tried to talk me into aborting. He was a man who very clearly stated he could never have/raise a special needs child. Of any kind. 

Of course, we would have parted ways, I would have been a single mother sooner, and Av would have had a very disfunctionally alcoholic father. 

See the timing here? 

But it’s not just that. I can trace all kinds of things to divine timing, because my lovely readers… I’m sure most of you know who I give credit to. I am completely aware that the path of my life, and the strength it’s taken to get me through some traumatic things, still breathing and such, was not mine alone. I’ve not done anything alone. 

It’s recently occurred to me that this timing thing applies to my heart too. Yes, I’m super good at love. Expert level even. Not scared, not deterred, convinced that true love, as well as so many other kinds, exists. That doesn’t mean I just fall for anyone. Oh no my lovelies, my heart is a cold picky bitch. 

Case in point: there is a very sweet, handsome, funny man that has within the last three months admitted to feelings of the love variety for me. He is patient and kind, thoughtful and insightful, and yet… I had to tell him my heart didn’t choose him. 

He knows what I need to hear, thinks of things to make me smile, and I’m pretty sure misses me when we don’t spend time together. He is my comfort and safe place to fall, but I don’t have desire for him… and friends, that matters. After my passionless marriage, I will never again ignore lack of chemistry, or desire (on my part). *I don’t claim to know if there’s passion or chemistry on someone else’s side of the equation*

The shorter version is, he knows how to “love” me in ways I need but I don’t have any desire to kiss him every time I see him. 

I’ve shed a few gallons of tears over this so trust and believe when I say I’ve also prayed about it. But I’m very certain, in my dark little crabby heart, that he’s not my forever person. Forever friend? Maybe. That always remains to be seen. 

Lately, as I ask myself why things have gone the way that they did, and how grinchy mc picky pants (aka my heart) could have chosen someone that didn’t want to date me, I have to give cred to… yep. Timing. 

There’s obviously so much to that whole story that I would never try to reduce my connection with someone to just when/how/why I met them. That isn’t fair, true, or do it justice. However, timing is a cruel snarling beast too because I’m fairly certain it’s also the reason he and I didn’t “work out”. 

I wish I could insert an expression into word form here. Let’s just say if you’ve met me…. you know what face I’m making. The rest of you will have to imagine a very appropriate type of look on my mug. 

It’s been made very clear to me, as only time and acquired perspective can, that I’m going to just have to keep focusing out ahead on the path I’m walking. I need to come to terms with my truths, keep eliminating fear from my thoughts and my heart, and live (and love) the best way I know how. 

One year 

I might be a tiny bit down today. Of course by “tiny bit” I mean enough that I’m admitting it, AND I’m posting twice in one day. 

My best friend lives in Vegas. The news this morning just… was too much for me. That’s not what this post is about but it didn’t help my mood today. *she’s fine*  

On Sunday it was exactly one year since I met someone that changed a few things for me. Weird because…. I’m pretty sure I’m the only one that remembers.  I’m pretty sure I took more away from our brief time together than he did. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t think about me anymore. I’m pretty sure…. 

Doesn’t matter. Him forgetting me doesn’t matter. I learned. I felt. I remembered who I was, and what I wanted. I found out I’m not broken. I remembered what it feels like to love… without reason, without expectation, just because I am who I am. I am capable of such boundless, all encompassing love. I. Am. Love. 

Felt wrong not to recognize the day. Felt wrong not to… wish him happy birthday. Felt wrong… all of it did. But I need to keep my word. Not just to him, to myself. I need to remember my worth, my value, and that if someone can’t see it, that it’s not my job to help them. I need to remember… so many things aren’t personal. They aren’t about me. At all. 

So, here I am, in bed, counting my blessings, praying for all of my “people”, including him, and thinking about the last 12 months. 

I’m grateful. Regardless of the outcome of all of it…. I’m just so thankful. 

Gone Away

I think about life
And oh how it changes so fast

And oh how it’s so hard to last here

Waiting for something to give
I think about time

A luxury so hard to find

And I just can’t figure out why

I wasted it all here without you
But I’ll be fine

Oh don’t you worry

‘Cause I’ll be fine

See I’m in a hurry
To be gone away awhile

Tell me all the things that I

I’ll be missing here in this old life

Man ’cause I just don’t know
I think about you

And all of the times that we shared

And oh what a wonderful pair

We made it so far, here we go again
I think about love

And oh what a beautiful song

And oh how it needs to be sung here

Sing it so loud all the world can hear
I think I’ll be gone away awhile

Tell me all the things that I

I’ll be missing here in this old life

Man ?cause I just don’t know
I think I’ll be gone away awhile

Tell me all the things that I

I’ll be missing here in this old life

Man, ’cause I just don’t know

No, no, I just don’t know

And I just don’t know
But I’ll be fine

Oh don’t you worry ’cause I’ll be fine

See I’m in no hurry
No, I’ll be fine

Oh don’t you worry

‘Cause I’ll be fine

See I’m in a hurry
To be gone away awhile

Tell me all the things that I

I’ll be missing here in this old life

Man ’cause I just don’t know, no, no
I think I’ll be gone away a while

Tell me all the things that I

I’ll be missing here in this old life

Man, ’cause I just don’t know

No, no, I just don’t know
Gone away awhile

Tell me all the things that I

I’ll be missing here in this old life

Man ’cause I just don’t know

Three big words

I love you.

Those three words strung together have power, yet… it depends on who is saying it and when, and not everyone will hear them the same way. There is a huge gap in the reception of those 8 letters put together to form one of the simplest and yet complex phrases that exists. 

As a mom to a child who doesn’t form sentences, or speak more than 3-5 words I know the importance of just one word, let alone 3 of them strung together and with meaning and purpose to them. 

Love. It really is everywhere and in so many forms and shapes. It’s in the hug between family and friends, but it’s also in the lunch packed for a child or spouse. It’s in the look exchanged between friends, or in the care of another. It’s in late night conversations between lovers, or the forehead kiss placed on a sleeping baby. 

I often wonder why people are so scared of love, because when your heart breaks it’s not love that did it. It is something else entirely. It’s either your expectations, or fear, or need, or longing… desire. Not love. Love didn’t break you. Love filled you up, made you happy, made you feel special or hopeful. Love replaces anger with the help of forgiveness. Love helps you remain hopeful about humanity and the future. 

If my child ever says “mommy” or anything even close to “I love you” I’m going to remember it forever and cry like a baby. I’m sure no one can blame me. 

I don’t take the word love lightly and yet it doesn’t have to carry such a burden with it. If I tell you I love you it is important but it has no strings attached. I love big. I love well. I love excessively and messily. I’m learning to love myself more. I’m learning that… I am love. All the way to the core of my person. 

I am not alone in this. Most of us are an abundance of love. There are no limits to love. Love really does… win. It conquers so many other awful things in life and about people. It makes everything else worthwhile. 

I will never regret loving someone. I will never regret telling them. I will never regret anything I’ve done in love. 


Welp…. I guess it was time friends. Might help me to get it off of my chest anyway. 

I have no idea where to start. A few posts back I confessed that I know I love him, or it had occurred to me that I had those feelings for him. We had a whole paragraph about love being a gift. A lot and nothing at all have both happened since then. 

I am a poker player most of the time. It’s a great metaphor because I hold my cards close to my chest, but I also only let people see like 3 out of 5 cards so it seems like they know what’s going on with me. It’s an old habit. Hard to break. Serves me no purpose anymore. 

My only excuse has ever been self preservation. No one tells everyone everything right? Well, it started to feel more like bluffing my way through life than being genuine, and I hated it. 

After I realized how I felt, I did what I always do: gave it time to sink in and for my heart to tell me what to do. Any time I do this though either the heaviness of my secret vanishes or it just gets heavier and sits on me till I can’t breathe. I was gasping for air by the time I saw my way through this one. 

I decided, since I’m no longer making fear the ruler of this heart or head, that I had to tell him. 


Just thinking about the process it took me to come to this conclusion makes me nauseous. I questioned God’s will on this one. I second guessed my own feelings. I looked for soooooooo many other solutions to this revelation. None came. I had to crack open my heart and serve it to him on a plate. With a smile on my face. 

Here is where I tell you- some things are both hard and easy all at the same time. The truth feels good to me. Even the bad things feel liberating because I’ve gotten to a place where I don’t care if someone judges me. That’s not my problem. That’s there’s. 

Sooooooooo…. how to deliver this important message? I had already written him two emails that I’m almost 95% positive he never got. He hadn’t responded to texts. What else was there? 

Mail. I had his address. And a beanie he’d left at my house that no longer smelled like him. *I know. I know* I drafted a lengthy 3 page letter. Just excessive. It somehow seemed to just write those three words and slip it into the envelope wasn’t enough. In for a penny in for a pound I guess. 

The hard part came after my package, beanie and letter, came back to me. I cried buckets because I didn’t understand. My heart was broken, not by him, but by God. I had prayed, meditated, waited till I felt in my heart it was the right thing to do, and all for naught. The day it came back to me I ugly cried in the car and yelled at the man upstairs. 

You’d think that’d be it right? I did what I could. I worked up the guts, put it all on paper, and it was “unforwardable”. *sigh* 

I tossed that padded envelope into my backseat and looked for my way out of feeling like fear had bested me yet again, and made my timing crap. 

By coincidence (or maybe not since everything is part of a bigger plan) I drove by his old job and saw his truck there. I called my number one advisor, bestie extraordinaire, and she told me I’d just have to march my butt in there with said returned package if I wanted to finish what I’d started. After all, she said, you had the guts to write it and send it. This is just more… in his face. Personal. 

I’m not lying when I say my fingers and toes were all tingling from anxiety by the time I finally made myself do it. But I always forget… talking to him, seeing him, it’s like… being home. I’m not sure it could ever feel anything but right. 

But I’m skipping the best part. 

My gut, my deep down intuition, is usually SO right. I’d felt like there was likely a story and that he probably hadn’t just ghosted me for almost 3 months because he didn’t care, or I didn’t matter. He may be ghosting me now, but it would be for a very different reason. Again, I’m jumping ahead. 

Yes, he’d had to move. His phone was shut off. He was, is, back at his old job, and I know from the look on his face that things have been hard. I just wanted to hug him till everything around us became fuzzy, out of focus, and unimportant. 

But life isn’t a movie. It doesn’t go how you want. It’s not easy and painless and perfect. It’s hard, and messy, and complicated.

We probably talked for no more than 10-15 minutes but it felt like longer. I just wanted to stand there, and smell him, and hold him, forever. 

The conversation doesn’t matter. The words spoken don’t matter. Just the time spent and the sparks that arced between us. I knew it would change once he had the chance to read my rambling profession of love. It was all I could do to just memorize his face. Just in case…. 

I will say that I gave him my number again, but have no real hope of hearing from him. It’s a giant leap from chemistry to love and one that most people don’t make without more time spent. I am not mad, or angry, or hurt. The purpose was never to convince him to love me back. It was just to give love to him. To make him feel… good. Full. Perfect, as he is, in someone else’s eyes. I think everyone should feel loved just as they are. 

I know this sounds like feeding an ego. I don’t feel that way about it. I think love is a gift. You give it to people who need it. You share it, and lift others up. You speak it when it’s true. You express it in kindness, and… it’s never wrong. True love for your fellow man is just that. Love is pure. Love wins. 

So, ok. Here we are. I’ve stepped off of the biggest cliff in a long time. It’s not likely end as I’d want. I have no regrets. I wouldn’t take any of it back. 

I won’t pretend to know what he thinks or feels. I’ll possibly never know. Men struggle with expression of feelings and thoughts in the best of circumstances, and as mentioned, he’s nowhere near even semi ok circumstances. There’s a lot on his plate, and so many things in line ahead of trying to date anyone, let alone some random girl he’s known for a year, but only seen sporadically during that time. I’m lucky if he still considers me a friend. 

I’m not making excuses for him. I don’t need to. He will do what’s best for him and I have no judgement. If I know anything, it’s that he will do what’s necessary for himself and his sweet baby boy, always. That’s as it should be. 

I’m grateful. I’m such a different person after meeting him. There are things he said, and the way he made me feel… I’ll keep those always. Regardless of how it seems on the outside looking in… he was good for my heart. 

I’ll keep him in my prayers, as always. God has plans for him. I can feel it. 

My heart is glad I was brave. It’s full and beats like it’s never been broken. 

Maybe, one day, later down the road, AZ and I will cross paths again. I can’t imagine ever feeling anything for him but love and knowing how things are with him, maybe he is my home. Or maybe he was just sent to remind me of how it feels with someone that you have real, pure chemistry/compatibility with. 

Regardless, I’m so thankful I met him.