Begin Again

"Beginnings are scary, endings are sad, but it's the middle that counts" is one of my favorite quotes from the movie Hope Floats.

There is something to be said about beginnings.  Yes they are scary, the fear of the unknown is incredibly petrifying.  Sometimes beginnings start with a clean slate and sometimes they start with a choice to move forward.  I'd like to think my beginnings start like a new book.  I love to read and there's nothing like going to the book store and looking around to find something new that catches your eye.  Maybe it's the title or the cover photo, maybe you look through new releases from your favorite author or maybe you skim the quotes on the backside which entail a summary of basically why this book you're holding is a book you should read.  When I find a new book I feel excited and anxious to open that book and begin again.

So here I am, starting a new book. Anyone that reads also knows that when you begin reading a new book it takes some time to get into it.  At first as a reader you're trying to make sense of the setting and characters.  I often times will start a book and maybe become frustrated or uninterested and set it down for a few days.  Even if it catches my attention and I become enthralled with the words across the pages, it's really not until at least a third of the way through I feel committed to that book.  It takes time, but somewhere along the way of highlighting or writing in the margins the book becomes known to me.  I begin to feel attached to the story.  Until that happens, I think I just go through the motions of reading.  I try to piece together the story and turn the pages.

My beginning feels like that right now.  I have a book, a new and exciting book I'm looking forward to reading but as I thumb through the pages I feel confused, lost, uncertain, maybe at times uninterested but at this point in my life I keep reminding myself to turn the pages.  I have my favorite books, novels that I could recall line by line.  Those books are familiar, they are known.

It is brave to start a new beginning but it is also scary.  I have gotten through so much in the last two years of my life.  I have grown, I have changed and I have developed into a person I am proud of. I know I can't put down this new book.  I know I need to try to begin again.  

You're Not Sorry

"Say you're sorry that face of an angel comes out just when you need it to
As I paced back and forth all this time, cause I honestly believed in you
Holding on
The days drag on
Stupid girl, I should have known, I should have known"

I could feel guilty and beat myself up all day for believing in you but instead I will move on with my life as a lessen learned.  I sacrificed my own morals and values because sometimes love makes a person do crazy things. You made me better but you also made me worse.

The truth is I will go on and lead a normal life.  I will love again someday. I will be okay because I am a good person with a good heart who was taken advantage of. 

I would have given up everything for you and loved you forever, so live with that.  Live with knowing you had me, the very best of me at one time but I have let you go.

It feels so much better on this side of the closed door.

I Fell In Love With A Married Man

Out of all the different kinds of love in this world, nothing could destroy a person more than falling in love with a married man.  I am the dirty mistress.  The woman kept as a secret.  I am the home wrecker, the embarrassment and the walk of shame.

I fell quick and landed hard on concrete.  Having an affair is constantly waiting.  Waiting for them to call, to visit, to show affection/attention and lastly waiting to be at the top of their list.  I think of myself as a nice girl; genuinely loving and compassionate human being.  How does a person who is so kind get caught up in such a wicked relationship.  This game is never ending.

All consuming-torturous kind of love.  I chose it.  I fed my desires and I became enthralled.  I fell for a person I trust, I love and respect.  I do, despite the circumstances respect him.  I was weak enough to let one person become my being.  I spiraled down a whirl wind roller coaster and needed someone to pull me out of the black hole.

Yet here I am today knowing in my heart of hearts the only person pulling me out of that hole was myself.  I clung onto dirt trying to work my way towards solid ground.  The game has been played.  My heart was naïve and vulnerable but I, myself, found the tape and glue.

I have known the worst kind of destructive love.  I have felt it and I have lived it.  I have let it inside my bones. After feeling for a long time God had abandoned me; first with a failed marriage full of emotional abuse and second with an affair to a married man; I am left with also knowing the purest and truest love.  The love I have for myself.  For if I had never known the worst heartache imaginable, I would have also never known how to love oneself.

Single Motherhood

My son is my world and brings so much joy into my life every single day but there are times as a parent I feel as if I may lose my sanity.  I know there are tons of single moms out there who work just as hard as I do to support themselves and their family.  I know I am not the only one who carries the weight of everything on their shoulders.  I am proud of myself for what I can accomplish in a single day.  I am proud of myself for being capable of supporting gunner emotionally, physically and financially.  I truly am...

But that doesn't mean there aren't times that I wish when he's having a complete meltdown there was someone beside me to help.  Someone who made sure I was okay too.  Everyday of my life is so focused on this little human being and it is magical it is unconditional love in every form but it is also exhausting.

I don't want to need anyone. I feel as though I don't, but as I look around my house there are times I think it would be nice to have an extra hand.  As I carry my son, his stuffed animals, my purse, gunner's diaper bag and any other miscellaneous items out to the car every morning I think of how nice it would be to have a little lighter load.

I know..I know these days won't last and at some point Gunner will only want to walk instead of being held and he won't need a diaper bag anymore.  I know I will miss these moments and I am not by any means trying to complain or feel sorry for myself.

I am just merely stating I think there's a reason God created two parents instead of one.  I think there's a reason it's suppose to take two in order to have a child because children are a lot of work and sometimes I think if I didn't admit I feel overwhelmed I wouldn't be a human being.

So I'm admitting it, I'm overwhelmed at times.  I'm lonely at times.  I am questioning myself sometimes.  There are days I keep it together by a single thread.

And all of that is okay.  I won't feel guilty for being human...for feeling normal feelings.  I am a good mother, I know I am. 

I will survive whatever life throws my way, one day at a time.
 

Gaining my Identity

What do you want?

A question I have rarely asked myself and now find myself searching for the answer.  For years I have lived a life that solely revolved around the wants and needs of other people.  Whether it be my ex-husband, family member or friend; I focused on meeting their wants.  I think in a way it's always been easier to meet other people's needs then to meet my own.  If I focused on other people it would take away from myself and then I wouldn't have to answer the question.

25 years old and there are days I struggle with, "What do you want?"  I know I want my career in the chosen profession I have pursued but what do I want now that I have been licensed for 3 years...I don't know.  It has always been my goal to someday take over the "family business" and run Fullerton Funeral Home myself.  As I reflect on that goal there is a lot of fear that runs through my body.  I wonder if I would make it.  I wonder if that's the person I am cut out to be.  I wonder if I can live and breathe in this place everyday and somehow still manage to be sane. 

I wanted a family and in ways I have exactly that.  I have my beautiful son who holds every single piece of me.  We are a family but not in the traditional sense.  It has taken time to let go of the family structure I wanted.  The one I've never had but still hope to. 

I want a home.  In ways I have that too.  My son and I have lived in a rental house for almost a year but it doesn't feel like mine.  It's a house but not a home.  The walls are bare and when I look around it feels empty.  Even with all the toys and "things," it's not what I wanted.  I think maybe now I should allow myself to be able to make it a home.

I want a closer relationship with God.  Although I avoid him at times.  Not because I want to, because I can't help but still be angry at him.  Even though some of the choices I made weren't his fault, I just don't understand.  I have given away so much of my heart and God knew that I deserved something good.  God knows it now.  I haven't given up but it's just not fair sometimes.  I am trying to forgive him as I am trying to forgive myself.

I want to be healthy.  Healthy enough that running after my son doesn't cause me complete exhaustion.  I am working on this too.  It has taken a lot of time.  I don't like the time it has taken.  I feel like a failure certain days because I look in the mirror and don't recognize myself.  This person on the outside isn't who I am.  It's difficult.  I know it doesn't make me any less beautiful but it has made me lose identity within myself.

I want to be loved by someone as much as I love them.  I don't feel in my soul I have truly reached this.  I feel in love but I still in ways find myself compromising.  Making excuses.  Giving a little more than receiving.  I don't think love is always 50/50 but I find myself hanging in the balance wondering when I will feel as if my love has been reciprocated the way it should be.  Maybe that's what I question the most is if that's even possible.  It's not fair for me to give and feel resentful when I realize I've given too much.  I often wonder why I continue to give so much.  I would be better off if I saved some love for myself too.  If I didn't wrap it nice and neatly into a little box.  So I will work on that too, keeping some for myself.

I want friends.  An intercircle of people who would be there at a drop of a hat.  After years of isolating myself I'm not sure how to make this possible again.  It's not that I have zero friends but I don't have what I know I am capable of.  I would say it's been at least 10 years.  I shut people out.  Put up a great big wall of China because the less people that are close to me the better...in my thinking.  Building walls has just made me feel more alone.  I want to work on being a better friend.

And I don't know what else I want.  I really don't.  Everyone says they want to be happy.  If happy were a place I would love to stay there constantly but I think it's a state of mind.  A state of mind I am working towards achieving.  Again there are days my depression and anxiety take over.  I never realized how badly both consumed me.  I would rather burying it deep but somehow it always resurfaces.  The only way to deal with it is reaching the core.  In ways I have done that.  I have reflected on my life and dug deep.  Being more aware of my emotions and surroundings...being more self-aware.  Happiness, I'm still working on too.

In a way it's liberating knowing that I am in control of what I want.  In other ways it's terrifying.  I am still learning.  Learning how to be independent and think for myself.  Learning how to listen to my gut instinct and the voice inside my head.  It was once a small and timid girl.  She is becoming braver, stronger and more outspoken.  She is kind but no longer a doormat.  She is changing and therefore something worthwhile is happening...even if it takes time.