Year of Memories: Day 1

One of the hardest things with my schedule is making sure my dog is properly loved. I work 2 jobs and trying to juggle that with children and other responsibilities is killer. So on a day when I have to work both jobs, its a god send when someone comes over to feed, water, and love on my puppy.

Gryffin really isn't a puppy. He's 10 years old and set in his ways. Moving in with me after being with the kids at their dad's house has been an adjustment. He hasn't been alone much since their dad doesn't work. So I feel extra guilty when I have to work all day. 

My boyfriend Craig came over tonight, ON HIS DAY OFF, to be with the Gryffin. It's the little things like that that make me feel grateful for the people in my life. I know he's a softie when it comes to animals, so I'm sure Gryffin walked him instead. 

Day one has ended with a good memory already!

New Year, New Me! Or Something.

Imagine dealing with a broken marriage leading to divorce, homelessness, a close friend dying from murder-suicide, an estranged father's cancer and death, a stalker, and a diagnosis of PTSD all at once. 

It's more than a tad overwhelming. 

I'm not going to lie and say it's been easy to keep my head above water. There have been days when suicide's call has been more than compelling. Yet somehow, I was able to hold on to a thin string of hope. Barely. I still struggle from day to day, but I've made it somehow. I truly believe it's had to do with the amazing support from friends who haven't given up on me and the will to not be another statistic. 

One thing therapy has harped on a lot is self-compassion and changing my thought pattern to be more positive. Although I truly HATE someone telling me to be more positive when it's raining down on me, there is some truth to it. I do feel better when I'm focusing on happier thoughts. Not that it's a fix for my issues, but chipping away at the stone enclosure I've built around myself has got to start somewhere.

I've been wanting to do this thing I saw on Pinterest where you make a plain mason jar all pretty and write down a happy memory or thought or thing that happened on that day and then on New Years Eve, you dump out those memories to find all the beautiful things that happened to you that year. 

I'm too lazy, busy, and just take too long to choose the "right" color or theme to make this happen, so I decided to make my own twist to it and just write it out. It's more my speed: there will be less clutter in my home, I won't procrastinate (much) to make it happen, and it's in a place where I know I will be able to find it - the Internet FOREVER.

So here's to 2019 full of good thoughts, memories, and just a jolly good time!

My losses

I've been reading about coping with loss, and ran across an activity. It's basically writing down all my losses. It totally blew my mind that Arthur was not my first suicide. So I began to list my losses and what I missed most about them. This really helped as El Dia de los Muertos is coming up, and I can make sure to remember everyone on my little altar. 

Activity: Get a pad of paper, a blank journal, or simply a notebook. (I’ve found that writing in a beautiful journal can be inspiring – but some people would rather use an inexpensive notebook.)Buy a pen you love to use – something that writes smoothly and effortlessly. It’s time to start chronicling your experiences. One reason grief disrupts so many aspects of your life is because your loss is not isolated – now is the time to reflect on the other losses in your life. In so doing, each will become an opportunity to experience grief, and release it.

"This helps you put things in perspective, honor your place in the process, and care for your body and mind in some other way. To help you “push the clouds away”, a bit at a time."

List all the beings (animal companions, childhood friends, lovers, or partners) and all the places you’ve lost. Take a moment to honor each loss, perhaps closing the ritual by lighting a candle – a time-honored action of reverence. What you’ll learn from this exercise is the recognition of your resiliency – you are strong, and you will survive this latest loss. Embrace the process, don’t resist it.

When I finished my list, I indeed saw I had been through a lot. It made me realize that I was a strong woman, dammit! And that I would continue to live and thrive.

Death

1. Roger, 1994-1996. I can't quite remember the date, but an acquaintance of mine, a person I partied with back in my younger days, passed away after being involved in a car accident. It was weird. I just remember thinking I should feel bad but I really had no feeling other than holy hell, I knew that guy.
2. Oscar, 1996. Everyone knew Oscar. He was the nicest guy and talked to everyone. He played football and I knew him through  my cousin, Adrian, who played against him in a rival school. He, too, was in a car accident. This one floored the whole school. It was a my first real hit at a loss. What I remember most about him is his smile. 
3. Baby Snell, December 1999. This was my first pregnancy that ended in a miscarriage. I never got to know my first child, and that loss was hardcore. I was disillusioned with my body and life itself. My child would have been 15 had they lived.
4. Carl Raffensperger, 7/23/06. He passed away during a lung biopsy. This was my ex's step-grandfather. We never made the distinction of step/half or any of that. He was a wonderful great-grandfather to my children. He retired from his own printing company that printed children's books. I remember what a proud man he was, and how we would come over and he'd be in a cranky mood, but the babies running around would have him smiling in no time. 
5. Obi-Wan Kenobi Graham, 2007. Epilepsy complications. Our first dog, a black lab. My son used to climb out of his crib, go downstairs, and curl up with Obi in his dog cage. We would find him many mornings under a blanket down there. He was scary looking, but such a sweet dog. He would run out of the house when the kids got off the bus to greet them.
6. Ellie Raffensperger, 01/07/10. She passed away from complications with pneumonia. My ex's grandmother. She was absolutely enamored with my daughter, Maya. They had this connection that I can't explain. She was a strong woman who outlived 2 husbands. Kind, but took no shit from anyone. I loved her for being who she was: a stubborn, loving woman. 
7. Joe Rush, 03/13/10. Stroke. Mr. Joe, as he was fondly called, was a co-worker of mine. He loved his family and was always kind to my children when they came by to visit the call center. One time in particular, he gave my children lollipops and told them he worked for Santa. My kids ate that up!
8. Jorge Chavez Duron, 07/18/10. Left in a ditch with multiple gunshot wounds, in the line of duty, in Mexico. Koki, my cousin, left behind a 2 year old little girl. He was gunned down a week after my grandfather died. This was a huge loss for the Duron Family. I remember playing with Koki as a kid and running around and getting into shit. Good times.
9. Denisse Robles, 02/11/11. Suicide. Denisse was my middle school friend. I remember her crying because kids would make fun of her for not having a dad. I listened to her a lot. This one hit me pretty hard. I lost track of her until 2010 and then she called me out of the blue to catch up and thank me for being a kind soul. I didn't realize those were goodbye calls she was making. She left behind 2 little girls.
10. Richard Graham, 08/12/12. Heart attack. My father-in-law at that time. He knew it was coming. He walked down to the park, sat on a bench, and died. I fully believe he did that so he wouldn't be found in the house. I loved that man. Poppy, as my kids called him, was always honest. He was sarcastic, loved to do puzzles, and every Xmas morning he would make English muffin sandwiches. He is missed very much.
11. Leo Saavedra, 04/13/13. Asthma complications. My cousin's 5 year-old son. I never met him in person, but any child that passes leaves a hole. He had such a big smile and was always laughing.
12. Arthur Guise, 07/02/15. Murder/Suicide. Too raw. For now I'll just write down bouncy balls, candles, and prom as my reminders.
13. Victor Duron, 09/25/15. Stroke. My grandfather's brother. I remember wishing he was my grandfather instead. He would take me out as a kid with him to the horse races and let me pick horses for him to win. He called me his lucky charm. He would try to get me to call him "Uncle Beautiful" because he said he was gorgeous, except I couldn't say it so it came out more like "Uncle Bofo" - much to everyone's amusement. His kindness is what I'll remember the most. 

Other losses

1. Sarah. My first neighbor in the boonies. She offered me my first cigarette, which I declined. My first friend that wasn't a relation. She moved away when I was in grade school.
2. Johnny, my high school BFF. When I left to join the army, I didn't know at the time I was never coming back. I miss having my friend down the street.
3. My dad. Being estranged is hard.
4. Fernando, my first love. Oh, how puppy love hurts. Part of the reason I joined the army was to separate myself from him. Crazy!
5. Diego, my cat. Asshole ran away.
6. My marriage. I can't even write down the amount of hurt I've gone through this one.
• My car, my home, my cat, my dog: I hope repossession, eviction, and loss of pets are things no one ever experiences, along with divorce. When you are blindsided with these things during these proceedings, it breaks a lot of trust.
7. After marriage boy. I wasn't ready. 
8. Audrey, my PA BFF. When she moved to Michigan, it was a big loss for me. We couldn't hang out all the time anymore! 

What does grief feel like?

You know those dark, rainy nights? Where it's so cold out that the chill seeps into your bones. You bundle up under the blankets and you can't get warm. No matter what you do, layering, blowing on your hands - the numbness just doesn't let go? 

This is what my grief feels like. 

It's this ever present weight that I can't shake off. My one friend likes to remind me that it's still relatively early in my grieving process, "It's only been 2 months."

When I think about it like that, it makes sense. The shock still hasn't worn off. I cry a lot. I want answers that I'll never get. I want to understand the inexplicable, the incomprehensible. 

But there are no answers.

My friend's actions that night don't match who I knew him to be. I'll never know what triggered those events. But I can choose which memories are in the forefront of my mind. Instead of remembering his last act, I can remember what a great friend he was. How warm, kind, and giving he was. Perhaps in time I can be rid of what seems like this permanent burden and my grief will turn into only fond memories. 

One can hope.

My World Will Not Be The Same Without You

These last few days have been incredibly rough. I don't know how much I can really say, as the pain has been mostly unbearable. A dear, close friend of mine has left this world of his own accord, and in the process has taken another's life. And it all just breaks my heart.

Arthur, enjoying some dinner, wine, and conversation.

He served two tours in Iraq, and they seem to never have left him. Soldier was not the only title that defined him. Friend. Brother. Son. He was a kind soul who gave all he had to others without asking for anything in return. He was truly there for people, whether to counsel, listen, or just be a shoulder to cry on. He cared deeply and wanted to ease suffering.

Which is what makes his last act so horrific. 

With so many people, including me, ready to drop everything to be by his side, it still was not enough to defeat his demons. I believed he was getting better. I believed the help he was receiving was enough to reduce the weight of his burdens. That he felt so alone among so many that cared for him is beyond tragic. 

Arthur, you didn't have to fight this battle alone. I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you when you really needed me. I'm sorry I couldn't reach you in time to pull you out of that darkness. I'm sorry you were so beaten down that you thought your only option was to leave this world. I wish I could have been the friend you needed, so I could see your smiling face today.

Like all who knew you, I have many emotions to work through: grief, anger, denial. I have to accept what has happened, but I can't today. Or anytime soon. I'm going to miss you so much, my friend. So, so much. My world will not be the same without you.

Bad things happen to good people, children

Having a large extended family is great on holidays and birthdays.  The horrible part of having such a large extended family?  Their deaths.

My dad has 8 siblings, and my mom has 13.  Each of my aunts and uncles have healthy amounts of children of their own, who in turn have 5+ children each, like good procreating Catholics.

Leo Saavedra, 4-years-old

This morning, I received a 5 am wake-up call that my 4-year-old nephew passed away from asthma complications. He had fluid in his lungs and they couldn't do anything to save him.  Over Easter, my 25-year-old cousin kicked the bucket suddenly.  These things come in threes, so I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Who's next?

Sometimes, I wish I didn't have feelings.  It would make going through life a heck of a lot easier.  Maybe then events such as these would not affect me so much.

When bad things happen to good people, it makes me sad.  When bad things happen to children, I just lose hope.

A day in depression

When you have a mental illness, it is difficult to tell others when you are suffering.  It is incredibly nerve-wracking, as you never know what reaction you are going to get.  With depression, not everyone understands that on the outside you might look okay, but on the inside it’s a sad, sad place.

Sometimes, I can’t get the words out of my mouth.  I suffer in silence.  I escape from reality and want nothing to do with the world.  I do everything in my power to avoid people – I don’t get up, answer the phone, or interact with people.  I barely eat, sleep, or talk.  And listening to someone?  That takes too much effort.  

Since entering college, I have had to tell many professors when my depression spikes so they know I am not just cutting class.  I hate each and every time I have to do it.  In my head I imagine all the responses I could possibly receive, and my stress level skyrockets.  It makes me want to curl up in a ball and hide, which is the opposite of what I need.   

The worst part of the cycle is the feelings of inadequacy, of weakness for not being able to handle emotions.  Then I feel worse for falling into that trap (again) and I feel like a piece of garbage.  I fall deeper into the depression the more it goes on. 

Wednesday I hid.  I did not go to class.  I avoided as much as I could Thursday and Friday.  I lay in bed all weekend, until my husband came home from work and made me get up.

Today I had to make the decision of going to class or not.  I did not want to, but there was still something that forced me to go and attempt to listen for two hours.  I was nowhere near 100%, but trying to be.  And you know what happened?  Even though I had to leave halfway through it for a break, I was still able to pay attention. 

And telling my professor why I missed class?  It was not the horrible nightmare I envisioned.  I do not know if he could sense how uncomfortable I was or if he just saw the sadness in my eyes, but he was beyond kind in his response.  So kind in fact, I cried.

Not because I was sad, but because I knew he was one of the few who understood.    

Writer's Block

I hate it when I can't write.

It is not the lack of ideas either.  There are too many thoughts running around my head on a regular basis.  The problem comes when it is time to extract and organize these ideas so that they make sense.  Whenever I can't do this, it is frustrating.

I can go through multiple drafts, mainly with only a couple words scrawled on paper before they end up in the garbage.  It is worse if I am working on a computer.  I just type and delete, type and delete, and nothing gets done.  It always happens with the writing I care about most.  

Maybe it is time for a break.

It's only a failure if you let it be

Finals have ended and grades are in.  The semester is over and there is nothing left to stress over, right?

I wish.  

I am disappointed I did not receive the grades I wanted, especially with all the work I put in, but my husband has a great way of always putting things into perspective for me.

"You passed. Concentrate on what's coming next."

He's a man of few words.  So I'm taking his advice (for once) and looking at all the things I was able to accomplish this last semester.

I learned that five classes is too big a load for me to carry, and four is my limit.  Four is how many classes I signed up for next semester, and one is a de-stressing class.  Power yoga anyone? Yeah, that's going to kick my butt!

I rocked my speech class, which I never expected.  I enjoyed and understood astronomy and economics more than I thought I would.  I kept trying to understand my math class, though my professors comments sometimes made me want to quit, and I am ready to try again with someone new.  I have a support system in place to help me pass with a transferable grade this time.

I grew as a journalist.  I joined the paper as a way to challenge myself to write in a different style. And what a challenge!  I was sucked in immediately and somehow became the Editor-in-Chief.  And though some deadlines were not reached and had to be pushed back, I am proud of what we were able to produce and now have a plan of action to not be so last minute.  Even though I will admit, that last minute stress is a major high.

I became more involved in campus life, which was not in my plans when I returned to college. All of a sudden I have a better understanding of what the Student Government does (sometimes), how the college makes decisions, and how Student Life activities come about.  

Most importantly, I learned that when you're the boss, you have to stay late to get stuff done, and sometimes that is killer.  Midnight is a cake-walk when other deadlines have become overnights.

So even though I got a D in my math class, it's not a failure, it's a learning experience.  While I let that class stress me out ALL semester, I am moving on to understanding what I was unable to grasp the first time around.  

And that stress? I would make a New Year's resolution to combat it, but then I wouldn't, so let's just say that I have a plan to take care of it.  To the best of my ability anyway.

Let's Talk

There’s not much I can say that others have not already said.  What happened in Newtown, Connecticut is becoming way too common.  And I don’t have an answer to offer as to how to put a stop to such senseless death.

The only things I can do are comfort and reassure my own children.  

My daughter, the fearless leader, has a plan on what to do for her survival: hide.  She is small enough to fit many places and can keep quiet, she said.  

My son, on the other hand, did not want to go back to school.  While parents around the country were holding their children close in gratitude, I did not have to – my son was hanging on me and would not let go.  

It should not take a tragedy to bring families together.  We all have busy lives that include work, school, and extracurricular activities.  

Something as little as having dinner together with conversation brings people together.  My family makes a point to eat around the table when we are home together. 

We also have mandatory family fun scheduled known as FFT: Forced Family Time.  It is not as bad as it sounds; it is named so that there is no wiggle room for a way out.  We watch a movie, play a board game, or go for a walk.  Most importantly, we talk.

Instead of running around stressed, take the time to rest and relax.  Get things out in the open instead of holding them in.  I don’t punish my children for saying what they feel, I just encourage healthier and acceptable ways of releasing their anger.

I don’t pretend to know what was going through the shooter’s mind, but I can tell you those kids were scared.  I hope the survivors are afforded the ability to grieve and work thorough their emotions in private.  I hope reporters remember that.

Those kids have already been through enough, don’t you think?

November Thanks

So, because this is fun (and I’m up), I’m going to participate in the I’m thankful for month of November.  No way am I doing this one day at a time!  Here goes all 30 days.  I am thankful for:

1.       My family. Duh. They love me this much (you can’t see me holding out my arms).

2.       My dog, Griffin.  He NEVER judges me.

3.       Coffee.  Without my father’s introduction to this life saving beverage, I would not have made it this far in life.  The fact that he taught me to drink it black has saved me more than once.

4.       My cat, Waffles, because she was a scaredy-cat when she was adopted and now she’s not.  Makes me feel like a cat-whisperer that I single-handedly made her feel loved.  Okay, maybe everyone in my household helped out…

5.       Dr. Seuss.  He made rhyming and weirdness not only acceptable, but cool.

6.       Dooney & Bourke, for making fabulous purses.

7.       Elephants.  I like them.

8.       Books.  Goodness knows where I would be without the land of make-believe.  Institutionalized?

9.       Words.  Specifically, writing them.  When they are placed in good form, it is amazing what can be created.

10.   The sun, when it works, is awesome.

11.   Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie Ice Cream.  Holy heaven in a pint!

12.   Nature.  Even though I am allergic to everything on the planet, it is still nice to walk through the forest and see trees, hear birds, and smell dirt. Quite serene and relaxing.

13.   SpongeBob Squarepants.  The show makes me LOL, and I love singing silly songs.

14.   My husband’s cooking ability.  Without his skill, my family would starve.

15.   Friends, the real kind.  The ones that I have sloppily cried on and left mucus-stained tracks on their shoulders.  The ones I have angrily yelled at and wanted to kill.  The ones that ignore my defenses and keep coming back for more me.  The imaginary ones…just kidding!  They’re real, I swear.  Love you all! 

16.   Helium filled balloons.  Because you can suck up the helium and sound funny.  Even though you’re not supposed to do it…

17.   Maple syrup.  Not that imitation crap, but the stuff that comes from trees.

18.   The BBC.  I would not have known The Doctor had it not been for them, and what kind of existence would that be?

19.   My parents, for coming to America.  I would not have been able to do a lot of the things I do had it not been for their determination to make the trek up north. 

20.   Medication, for helping my body correct deficiencies that enable me to live life.  Science is pretty damn incredible.

21.   Smartphones.  It’s pretty cool having the power of the internet at the tip of your fingertips.

22.   All my working body parts.  I like walking, talking, tasting, smelling, feeling, seeing – I’d hate to lose any of those things.

23.   Andrew Lloyd Webber’s The Phantom of the Opera.  Best.  Musical. EVER.

24.   Emotions.  As much as I may complain about crying at stupid touchy-feely commercials, I’d much rather be a person who feels than one who doesn’t give two-cents about a human being.

25.   Hugs. You could be having a poopy day and they make it better.

26.   Orthodontists, especially the one I had.  Without their infinite knowledge of the human mouth, I would have had one f**** up smile!

27.   Socks, for keeping my feet warm.

28.   Kids, because they are the best of human kind.  Ever notice how curious, smart, kind, and trusting they are? They live life in that moment and absorb as much as they can and make the best of each day.  I want to be just like them when I grow up.

29.   Beds, because I would hate to sleep on the floor.

30.   The military, for introducing me to my husband.  That is all.

So, what are you thankful for?

Murphy's Law in Full Effect

Today is the PERFECT day to get to know Monica, if you want to get to the nitty-gritty.    Yesterday, everything that could go wrong did.  And what didn’t, waited until today to go haywire.  Seeing anyone frustrated and defeated gives you a good sense of what kind of person they really are, and I am no exception.

Being the healthy individual that I am, I did not allow these feelings of irritation to fester.  I let them rip.  I had my pout-pout fish face on, and sighed heavily.  My son spent his $2 on cow tales to cheer me up, my mom took the kids out for a swim in the pool, and my husband sent me lovely text messages – all in an effort to cheer me up.  It was all a no-go.

And after my beloved Packers lost last night, well, that was the last straw.  I hit the hay, but sleep eluded me.  Too many thoughts of how can I fix this were flying around my head.

Today, I keep reminding myself of all the blessings I have.  I have vocal chords that work so I can yell at my unresponsive laptop.  I have legs to stomp away on when I’m pissed at my ineffectiveness at fixing it.  I have lungs that I am able to use to take deep breaths in an effort to relax.  I have eyes that see clearly, with the aid of glasses I can afford, and the tears trickle out as my coffee spills on my flash drive and fries the backup of my school work. 

And thankfully, I have a brain that tells me it is not the end of the world, and that in a few hours I’ll be calm enough to hit the reset button and start again.