My Worst

We all know our own flaws, we are good at picking them out and identifying them. It is why we struggle to accept ourselves, so why would anyone else accept us because of them?

I have several, one of which is I hate admitting I need help, ever. I have really gotten better at this, but I still struggle, if it is something I know I can't do on my own, I can ask, begrudgingly, but I ask. But if it is something that I should have my stuff together enough to do it on my own, I hate it. I feel weak, or pathetic, and that brings out the "pity for you" faces that I have seen enough of in my lifetime. Why is it so tough to just speak up and say "Help I am struggling?" I have typed that phrase and deleted it so many times in the last 24 hours, and still have not sent the damn text.

I have heard so often how strong I am, and how people look up to me and I am an inspiration. I feel like if I am not that person I am letting someone down. I am doing what anyone who was thrown into the same position would do. The best I can. There are others who are single parents, who have dealt with loss, who have put themselves through school, why do I have to be that poster child? I think part of it is the fact that I like attention, I always have. But I am afraid if they look to closely they will see the truth and be so disappointed in me. Disappointed by my parenting skills, by my poor grades in school, by my total lack of household skills, (like cooking and cleaning), or by my personal life. You see the fact that I actually write my journal online and in a public place shows my love for recognition... but I don't promote it or advertise it because I am ashamed.

I stink at money. Well let me rephrase that. I do know how to budget and be good, and make it stretch to cover all that I need it to cover. However it is these summer months that there is no way I can stretch it to cover everything I need it to cover, so I figure screw it and don't cover anything, and then get depressed as it starts stacking up, all the things I need to pay. So then when I am back in school and work, my money has to play catch up and I have nothing left for fun or the holidays. I really hate money and wish I were better at making it work for me.

Why can't I express myself in person? this is probably my biggest flaw. It was with my family, and with Kris. And now that I am attempting a new relationship, I am scared it is happening again. I don't know what or how to say what I am feeling. I never have. It is easier to try to string words together on the screen or on paper and hope they are coherent enough to get my point across. But that is not healthy for a relationship. It was the biggest fight between Kris and I everytime. When I agreed to try this new relationship, I thought to myself I could do this, and talk and make it work. Then I felt guilty for being willing to try with him, but never my husband. Then we talked and were on the same page, and that made a huge difference. I could do this because we are talking and on the same page.

But we're not.

I took a chance and told him (through text, cause I'm a wuss) that I am having a really tough day. This wonderful man invites me over to talk. At first I think this will be perfect, we are still on the same page, he is walking me through this. But as the time got closer, panic kept setting in. I am finding excuses to not go. I am coming up with reasons that would scare him away (true ones, I never want to lie) so that he leaves and I don't hurt him.

Am I so ashamed of myself and who I am that I can't accept the fact that others might actually like me? Others might actually look past my flaws to get to know me? Why am I so focused on my flaws that the idea of positive traits that out shine my flaws is so foreign to me? Perhaps I need to spend a day listing my positive traits, so I can see they outshine my flaws.

For now I am going to go clean myself up, send the much needed text, look over things I need to accomplish tomorrow and make a plan to do them. I am going to go to this amazing man's house and talk to him, as best I can. Put it all out there, without the agenda of pushing him away. If he sees it all out there and decides for himself it is too much, I can respect that. But if I behave in such a way to force something positive out of my life, then I deserve to suffer alone.

Whirlwind

That is what this life is. Once you find yourself in that false sense of security and routine, and an unexpected gust comes up and throws you off balance you try to regain your center. But that is the point, life has no center. Sure we secure ourselves around family and friends, but if you examine them, we aren't always weighted perfectly centered in everyone's life. We can't be. We do our best to center ourselves in an unbalanced world. When you add kids and family and friends, work, hobbies, home, etc. you are accomplishing quite a feat.

So when I say these past two and a half weeks have been a whirlwind, that is no mere exaggeration.

I have been dating a wonderful man for a little over 4 months now (as well as several other guys here and there). But it wasn't until I took a chance and agreed to date him exclusively that I realized how truly wonderful he is. In the past couple weeks, he has seen me at my craziest time of year with work, and he supported me wholeheartedly. He has met and made a huge effort to spend time with and get to know each of my energetic kids. He has even put up with me reiterating what a huge role he is stepping into becoming serious with me. And yet he is willing to.

I am so glad I took the time to go back and write out some of the things that have been taking up residence in my head, because if I had not already been forced to acknowledge these concerns of mine, I don't know that I would have been brave enough to agree to try a relationship.

We are both in no way delusional about the issues that may still arise, as there are sure to be, but I am ready to move into a new adventure in my life, as scary as it may be.

It Will Be Different

I began dating around the second anniversary of Kris's passing. I was tired of being alone, and never getting out. I have always liked meeting new people, it is fun to me. Finding similarities, differences, learning to do and try new things because they like them. So I have met and experienced a ton of new people and things.

I keep telling myself that I am not ready for something serious. I don't want a serious relationship. I am just getting out and having fun. It's too soon. When a good friend asked me "Why?" So as I have been getting closer to someone I have been dating I ask myself why not give him a shot? Then I began to compare him to Kris. Why he is different from him, what similarities they share, and what of those may be deal breakers. Then it occurred to me.

There will never be anyone like Kris.

Since I have been dating I have known this. Since he passed, I have always known this. But it was only recently I acknowledged this and with it the limits I have placed on myself in dating. I need to be open to other men, and take chances. I think because I had to stop looking for someone to be Kris. No one will ever be him. It will always be different.

It has taken me several days to sort this out about dating. But once it happened and I realized it, I knew it applied to every aspect of my life. It will never be the same again. No matter how much I want it to, it can't be. It will be different. I have been struggling to get back into the routine I had when I was married, and had help from my spouse. But it won't be there again. My team is now me. Sometimes it includes my kids, and sometimes I must do it alone and be a parent. Either way it is different. I am learning. I am adapting. But I finally feel like I have at least accepted the fact that it will be different.

Writing Mends

It has been 1,289 days since I became a widow. In that time I have had ups and downs, I have felt like I can do anything, and I have been so low I felt the only choice for me was to give up. I have experienced successes in work, school, and family. I have had to face failure in those as well.

I was sitting today feeling broken and at one of the lower points I have seen, and was trying to figure out what helped me get better when I have felt at the higher end of my journey. There are many different factors that have contributed from religion, family and friends, financial securities, and kids. But I have been on a low for quite some time now. I know that the main reason, and it is hard to admit, is some very poor choices I have made in the past year. But one thing I have not been doing in that time that helped was writing.

I looked at my blogs (I have several as I try to keep some things private.) and it has been a few months since I wrote anything. But even the last couple of posts were simply venting, complaining, whining. And while I think that writing is important and has its place, I stand by a statement I have made several times in writing classes -  that writing helps us process what we are going through, and it teaches us about ourselves and gives us a script we can learn from and grow to improve our lives.

I have several mental battles going on inside my head at any given moment of the day or night distracting me from things that matter more. Looking back I know that when I have spent some time with a pen and paper, or at the computer even if it starts as nonsense, I eventually dig up some solution to a battle I had overlooked. It begins a healing process that I can look back on when I reach my low points.

I miss Kris and my mom daily. I still frequently have moments where for a fleeting thought I forget they are no longer a phone call away and grab my phone to rely something to one of them. When I first began the role as a widow rather than a wife, the thing that got me through were the memories I would write of Kris. Looking back at them, they are things I hope I will always remember, but now I have a place I can go to quickly relive them, and so can my children, It was the writing I needed at that time. Later on it was the glimpses of success I met on this path that pushed me to continue through the obstacles I now faced alone. Writing down my accomplishments (and my kids) gave me hope I would get through this.

But lately, I feel I am constantly avoiding writing, because it has become a place I only visit when so deep in despair it is a last resort. I have turned something I loved into something I avoid by only expressing the negative thoughts I am feeling. Part of this is because with school I had so much writing stacking up that I needed to do I choose to avoid it, all forms of it. And because of this I feel I have lost some much needed healing time.

I completed deep cleaning my bathroom (which was quite the feat) and was sitting admiring it, and feeling so alone. I miss the recognition and gratitude from Kris, or anyone for that matter. Since school is done I have found myself wasting time on silly games on my phone, and pulled out my phone to waste more time while I tried to motivate myself to tackle another room of my messy house, or at least shower for the day. (It is 7 o'clock at night.) As I went to the game, I saw my iBooks app, and thought I would see which books I had not yet read that I was waiting for school to end to engage in. I saw The Writing Life by Annie Dillard. I bought this 3 years ago when a favourite professor was always quoting it. I read the first chapter and was crying as I realized what I needed to do, and why it was missing in my life.

Now here I am. Writing. For me. To figure out where I am coming from, as well as where I want to go. I have been so overwhelmed with school, and whether or not I am cut out to be a teacher, and if I really want to teach English. I remember why I wanted to. Writing. Discovering who I am through gliding a pen across those stripped pages, feeling the keys give in to the weight of my tapping fingers as the squiggles that represent my thoughts slowly collide beginning to make sense. Reading. Realizing that I am not alone in how I feel or see something, and that there are so many different ways to see the same thing it makes the world a little smaller.

A new blog. Sure it may be my addiction to writing, and lists, and organizing, but I have been trying to find a way to combine my various blogs and posts into one all encompassing one. I don't think that will ever happen, but here I can reinvent some posts I may want to share. Here I can start exploring what I want to do with my writing. Here I can continue to mend my life from the loss that once shattered it.

I have not been able to define this life I am leading. Some say it is new, but it isn't, it's different. But while it is different, there are many aspects that strive to remain the same. I will never feel completely healed. When you repair, or mend something, it is to the best of your abilities, some things better than others. When you are healing from an injury, while doctors may say an estimated length of time, it always varies, and often times is never the same, making it an ongoing process. This is how I feel I am... broken, but I am healing. My writing is going through the same process I am, trying to find the balance for what works best.