Hungry

The ache that I feel is deep. I cannot seem to find the words to truly describe it. It centers around my solar plexus, and oozes out. My bones burn from the heat of it.

The choices I have made as of late, reflects a unsatisfied hunger. It isn't a secret, that I hate how my life has turned out. I hate my divorced self. I hate the body that I live in. This hatred has given rise to an attitude of not really giving any fucks about extra curricular activities I have found myself engaged in. It is as if, I am an outsider looking in. I don't recognize the scenes I find myself in.

My battered and bruised emotional state appears to invite chaos. I get high off the chaos. It is dangerous. Yet, I continue to go back to it, more and more. I don't know how to kick this habit. I can feel myself going through withdrawal. I cry and thrash, and feel dead. The worthlessness that I have been called, feels very real.

So, I suppose in the meantime, I will continue to engage with whatever presents itself as an option, be it unhealthy or not. I can't seem to help it. Again, because I am worthless.

raw

These days have been hard. I spend most of my free time in bed, with the darkness covering me. I was asked recently two questions that caused me pause. "When was the last time you felt happy? What do you do for fun?" I haven't felt happy in a long time. However, I have grown increasingly better at faking it, and perhaps that is why I am so tired at 5pm.

I have lost 14 pounds so far this year. My self worth is directly tied to my body. Many of you have read about my disdain for the body in which I live. I cringe upon passing mirrors, I tug at the clothing the covers it, uncomfortable and annoyed at how they feel on my skin. I just want to shrink away to nothingness. With these few pounds of weight loss has come even more self destructive behavior. With every bite, the hate grows deeper. The roots continue to tangle in my veins. I can almost feel it strangling my very essence of self. While my close friends know of this weight loss, many don't until now. And it doesn't even matter. There is so far to go, and it just feels pointless and never ending. But I am starting to enjoy that emptiness feeling.

The self destruction is easy. The abusive relationships I engage in are a way to punish myself for all the wrong. I took Psych 101, I know what I am doing. To punish myself for how disgusting I have let myself become. Fat, alone, childless, and damaged. I allow these physical and emotional blows. I crave them now, I can't stand who I have become. So when he shows up, I allow it all to unfold however it will. So, don't tell me to stop, for it is clearly what I want and deserve. I detach from myself and live somewhere else, up on the ceiling, covering my eyes, at least until he leaves, where I reenter, and just weep for what I allow, for what hurts, and for how I know I will allow it again.

On this Valentines day, I am reminded, once again, of the touchless life in which I live. I was told about "cuddle con". A convention in Portland about platonic touch and how people were going to cuddle one another. My first thought was "that sounds kinda cool", and only a fraction of a moment later did I think "I would hate to make someone feel like they have to touch me". The touch that comes towards me now is only one of power and aggression. It is a strange dichotomy that I long to be held, and loved, and kissed, and desired, and at the very same time, I shrink away at the thought. There is not one cell in my body that believes anyone would ever want to do any of those things. If for a moment, they did, the thought of someone touching this body disgusts me. The touch that occurs now is not love, I know this. It is abusive, tragic, dark, and wrong. All the things I feel about myself manifested into.

Dear reader or friend, I apologize for the endless misery that I carry around with me. I just needed to or wanted to get some things out into the universe.

What do I Want?

I want to be able to go hiking with friends and not feel embarrassed.
I want to be able to take a walk without feeling winded.
I want to have sex and not feel deep shame about how my body looks and feels.
I want someone to love me.
I want to have children.
I want to love someone fiercely.
I want to own my finances.
I want to travel to France, Spain, Germany, Mexico, Africa, Australia, Norway... and many more.
I want to have money in my savings account.
I want to play music and sing in a band.
I want to take and art class.
I want to take a writing class.
I want to pay off my 2 credit cards.
I want to lose a considerable amount of weight.
I want to start the admin program (I think).
I want to go on a backpacking camping trip.
I want to give and receive more hugs.
I want to be touched more.
I want to be held.
I want to speak confidently.
I want to read more books.
I want to see Crater Lake, the Grand Canyon, The Statue of Liberty, and the town my Grandmother grew up in.

I want to continue adding to this list.

What do you want?

2014, A Year in Review

With the end of 2014 looming close by, I thought it would be a perfect time to do some thinking and reflecting.

The beginning of the year found me still teaching 1st grade. While I loved my colleagues, the families, and especially the little children that greeted me with their hugs and smiles, I found myself becoming more an more unhappy with where the building as a whole was headed. It broke my heart to see the unfortunate and sad changes that were being made, and ultimately led to my decision to leave the first grade classroom (more on this later.)

This year, I took my first international trip to the beautiful Tlaxcala, Mexico for Spring break. I went with my very dear friends, Julia and Luis, who held me in my fears of flying, and everything in general I suppose. While I am feardul of most things, I continue to say "YES" to new adventures, which I believe is a good quality in myself. While in Tlaxcala, I stayed with the Dear Nava's, whose loving kindness cannot be measured. The biggest lesson came from Hugo, "don't be afraid, have courage." I am sure he didn't realize the impact that simple statement would have on me. A statement I won't soon forget. While I was nervous most of the time, and then got a sick "international tummy", I enjoyed the trip immensely.

As the school year inched slowly to a close, I started packing up my classroom. Boxing away the last 3 years. Then, the week before school got out, my life changed dramatically. I became deathly ill. It started out simply enough, a weird pain in my side that didn't let up, went to the ER, they said I had a bit of a kidney stone, told me I would need to contact a dr, and sent me home. Within a few hours of being home, my temperature reached 103 degrees. Needless to say, I was back in the hospital, where I went into toxic shock syndrome. The "bit of a kidney stone" was almost a centimeter across and blocked the function of my right kidney, and when they pulled the stone out, all the toxic yuck was spilled into my system, causing an extreme infection in my whole body. I was technically unconscious but could hear the doctors talk about how they needed to contact the CDC, because they couldn't find an antibiotic to fight the infection. I was dying, and I knew it. I have never felt so vulnerable and weak. Words cannot describe it. I forced myself to lean over on the cell (which took every drop of energy) phone to call my Mom, to tell her that I was going to die, and that I loved her and wanted to make sure she would tell everyone else I loved them. Strangely, I was perfectly at peace with all of that. Miraculously, the doctors found a medicine (the 5th drug) that began to fight the infection, and so would begin my summer of injecting myself into a port in my arm that led to my heart, for almost 5 weeks of antibiotics 3 times a day. A slow, 2 surgeries in all, an exhausting recovery took place. I am so blessed for the doctors who took care of me, and my family and friends who saw me through this. For the first time, as I lay in the hospital bed watching the sunrise, I realized I need to slow down and appreciate the little things.

Shortly after I got the port out of my arm removed, I was invited to go on a "real" camping trip with my lovely friend, Jay. Of course, being the nervous wreck that I am, I agreed without hesitation! I was told there was a bit of a hike. FALSE! It was straight the fuck UP, FOREVER. I am not what one would call "in shape" and after being sick for what seemed to be an eternity, it took me longer than time itself to climb up to the lake. But victory would be mine, along the side of dear Jay who stopped with me along the way so I wouldn't die alone. What a serene place it was. The sweet scent of Oregon forest, the crystal clear waters of Buck Lake, the diamonds that shone at night, and new friends who made me laugh so hard, that peeing and pooping in the open woods into a hole you dug yourself, became the "spirit quest" I was in desperate need of.

My summer break was nonexistent with the exception of that camping trip. So, when a new school year was to start, I felt fairly cheated. Sadness overtook me for a time. I was missing my teacher partner terribly and was scared to face a school year without him. Though, I was excited for the new adventure of middle school and returning to the world of special ed. I cried in the car on the first day of school. I was terrified. SO many changes so fast! When the students arrived, the old familiar feeling of "Pro" returned. I found most things came naturally. While I continue to learn on a daily basis, my love of these students is profound and real.

This is the first year of my life without a boyfriend. I just realized this as I am typing. How strange. While I have had my fair share of adventures in that more personal area, no significant romantic relationship to speak of. Though I long to find courage to face true feelings, as of now, I am independent of a relationship. I still find myself yearning for things past, I suppose there is no time like the present to let go, though it still breaks my heart if I think about it for too long.

Finally, 2014 brought about much time for personal reflection. Many changes that have been mostly embraced. Therefore, dear reader, I leave you with the wish of a happy, strong, and positive new year for you and yours. Cheers!

Enslaved

The questions was posed today, "What enslaves you?"

At first I really couldn't think of anything. As a white woman, with a pretty substantial amount of privilege, I don't usually think of myself as being enslaved by anything. But she pressed on, "Are you enslaved by fear? What about food?"

"HEY! was she talking to just me?" I asked myself.

She continued with her list, "Lust? Social media? Fear of past failure?..." She listed many things, but all those are the ones the stuck out for me, because I think they are the things that trap me.

My biggest enslavement is fear. I am constantly fearing rejection. This started at a very young age, and while I won't bore you with the common details of it all, fear of rejection runs deep. After my divorce, this fear is something I deal with on a daily basis. It is sometimes all consuming. Even listening to her speak, the anxiety was rising in my body. I squirmed and reached for my phone - the ultimate distraction, right in the palm of your hand!

I decided "No." I decided to stay with the feeling of being uncomfortable. I had to tell myself I was still safe, and everything is OK. My mind flashed to a variety of scenes from my marriage. I view my failed marriage as the ultimate of failures. The ultimate rejection. I just cannot seem to let this go. My mind, my body, my heart hold on so tightly to this failure - like a reminder that I am, in fact, a failure. Someone unworthy of love.

It is extremely painful. Dear reader, I write this as only a means of self expression, not looking to you to "fix" me, but for you to maybe understand that deep and profound depression exists in your midst.

Out of all the things I feel enslaved by, fear consumes me. Fear eats me alive. Fear has destroyed me. Sure, there are moments when I can fake it. I can play the part of a "successful woman who has her shit together". When I sit alone, however, I am back at the baseline of someone who truly hates herself.

I am enslaved by the fear and the hate. Perhaps just acknowledging is a good place to start, but I do not see this abhorrent view of myself subsiding any time soon.

Christmas Eve 2013

Let's see... This has been a year of more growing up. I imagine, that is what is supposed to happen as time passes.

Early in the year I was coming into my own as a teacher. I was having amazing results in the classroom, and for the first time in my career, I felt truly proud of myself.  Spring break was spent with some of my most favorite people in the world at the Oregon coast. I am so grateful for the people I work with, well most of them (haha). They support me and have my back, but challenge me to be my best person. We laugh and cry together, and I have never felt such love amongst co-workers.

While the school year came to a close, I was devastated to learn that my administrative team would no longer be part of the school I teach at. This weighed heavy on my heart and mind. I had come to respect and care for this team more than I ever thought I would - I mean, who loves their bosses? I did. They helped me in more ways then they will ever know. This change in leadership forced my own wings to open.

During the summer, I began volunteering as a "Comfort Companion" at a retirement community/nursing home. After my Grampa died on December 26th, I felt a strong calling to be a part of the dying journey. I felt in my heart that no one should ever die alone. Though I haven't been volunteering much since school started, knowing that I am a part of this team of caring and empathetic individuals makes me so proud.

While sitting with one man, his partner of many many years was there also. I was able to witness love  and life in its most pure form. In the end, only love matters.

I learned a lot about love this year... In order to have something that is strong and pure, honesty and trust is key. I learned that I needed to be more honest about myself. I also learned to be far more gentle and understanding. While I seek forgiveness and understanding, I still remain confused and humbled by many things ~ I suppose that is part of being human. Accepting that someone doesn't love you is one of the most difficult things I have ever done, and am still doing.

While I sit at my Grammas, the first Christmas without my Grampa, I ponder about what next year will bring. There are a variety of paths being illuminated, and choosing one will be difficult, though I am fairly certain that traveling will be happening, and I am very excited about that! The challenge this year is to accept the things I cannot change, focus on my own life goals, and love in ways bigger than I ever imagined.

I wish you a Merry Christmas and a New Year filled with hope, love, and grace.

Back-to-School Eve

So many emotions running through me. As teachers, I think we get just as nervous and excited as the kids do. We chose a profession that is relatively thankless as far a paycheck is concerned, but at the same time one of the most rewarding and fulfilling callings, in my opinion, of all time. Even though I have already spent my allotted $75 on supplies, been in more unpaid days than I can count, I still am so looking forward to tomorrow!

A whole new classroom! Full of possibilities & potential! Will they like me? Will I like them? (I joke, of course I will.) Will I be successful? Will I teach them to read and write, add and subtract? Will they fight? I can't wait to hear the hilarious musings of 6 year-olds. Or the first time one of them tells me that they miss their old teacher, because 1st Grade is hard! Or when we all just erupt in laughter. And when one of them, who just hasn't been getting reading, finally puts the pieces together, and we both smile proudly after they have just read their first book by themselves! These, and many more are the moments I live for!

And it must be mentioned that I work with the most incredible team of educators. These passionate individuals give teachers a good name - something that is so often lost in media portrayals of teachers. But these people are for real! The caring, compassion, and dedication to these little people astounds me every day! The amount of support they show me, is immeasurable!

So, here we are again. Another First-Day-of-School, and golly, I am I just so excited! Ready or not! I'll see you all in June!