Dear You,

April 29, 2011 Me, Unplugged

Dear You,

I want to stop you from blogging. for now.  I want to stop you from being on the internet and from saying some of the deep dark things you are sharing with us – for now, anyway.

You are in pain.  You’re broken. Battered. Possibly self-destructing.

You seem to be in a depression, or state that is unexplained and impossible to determine completely other than the snippets you share here and there, like morsels of moist kibble that some people lap up, and remain hungry for more.  We don’t know how you are, for real, obviously; but it won’t stop people from making assumptions and horrible comments.

It’s cruel, this place. It’s fucking cruel, man.

Some people cannot differentiate between real people’s pain and a television show. Some people are really stupid though. I think you know that.  Shit, I think you blogged it once or thrice.

I want to stop you because I was in the place you are now, a mere four years ago.  People ate up my wreck, chewed it slowly as they spoke with their mouths full, spitting and swallowing the raw flesh I bared.  I regret that now.  Sure, I could argue that I may have helped someone, but the cost to my own soul was not worth it, as I resurrected walls so tall it took until my mother’s death to realize that life is too fucking short to think everyone is out to get you.

They aren’t.

Real people in real life do not stab you in the back as some people have done to me in this overpopulated electric jungle. Real people in real life tend to have more accountability and less bullshittedness, at least in my experience.  They look you in the eye and bring you food when you’re dying inside and kick your ass out the door when you need that too. Having said that, some of these real people in my real life came from the internet in the first place, so there’s that. I know who my friends are, and they aren’t all the same people they were four years ago. Many of the people from that time ate their fill and moved on, like dirty, disgusting raccoons. You’ll notice those masked buggers can’t sleep at night.  Curious.

I want to shield you from the cruel things people will say that will make you want to hide from the world and protect yourself so fiercely that you may never open yourself up again, to find love or friendship or connections that can withstand bullets.  Or maybe you don’t react like me, and that would be good.  Maybe you’re stronger than I’m giving you credit for. I hope so.

I’ve said nothing. Until today.

I’ve said nothing because you don’t know me. You don’t know that I am a compassionate person who cares about others, including you, dear stranger. You know me from the internet and I know you from the internet, and well, we really and truly don’t know each other.  Maybe I’m assuming things are worse than they are after reading what seems like crimson, viscous blood pouring from your pores.

I want you to know you are not alone.  As cliché as this shit sounds, it will get better.  It has to get better.  There are people who are rooting for you to pull through this Thing, that want you to be the strong force you once were: the person that pulled many of us into your passions. You inspired so many of us in the last couple of years as you radiated perseverance.

As you were.  Please, as you were.

Find your people, and leave those horrible raccoons behind, okay? Talk to and lean on and appreciate your people,and let them be the ones listen to you cry, to bring you food, to kick your ass if you need it, and to catch your fall. And although I don’t pray all that often, I do pray you find your footing soon.

Love,

A Concerned Blogger Who Was Once In Your Shoes And Somehow Managed Not to Die

(It got better. Way fucking better.)

Comments are off because they really aren’t necessary for this one.

When Crabby Meets Lucky

April 20, 2011 Friends,Me, Unplugged

This morning I woke up on the wrong side of the bed.  I wasn’t upset about anything in particular, nor was I angry. I was actually pretty quiet, speaking in soft tones to the kids as I made their breakfast and got them ready for school.  It was a peaceful morning, but I felt glum. Crabby. Blah to the power of 10.

I drove the kids to school, and went through Tim Horton’s, treating myself to a large double double instead of the regular I usually get (the extra cream and sugar was necessary today).

I know I am stressing out about exams, and I’m feeling rather frustrated with the grey, rainy, cold weather we’ve been having – the darkness is really taking it’s toll these last few days.  If someone sees the sun, could you send it my way? I haven’t been going to bed at a reasonable hour, and I’ve been eating like total Shitty McShitster too.  I don’t know what’s happened this week but I need to get back to taking better care of me.

I know that in one week, I will feel so relieved to have exams behind me and I made sure to take today to plan my studies so the freaking out going on in my chest could be calmed.  It helped a little to get a handle on what needs to be done.  I’m hoping to alleviate the chest pains I’ve been having on an intermittent basis as of late.  Now before anyone freaks out on me to go see a doctor, let me assure you: I know my body. I know this is just stress.  Case in point: I had two panic attacks on the weekend.  I know all of this will settle very soon.

Just keep swimming…

A local friend and I had planned to run tonight.  All day I fought the urge to cancel.  I thought that if I didn’t go, I would somehow get SO much more studying done.  That was the lazy-ass devil on my shoulder talking.  The angel on my other shoulder tried to tell me I would feel better if I went.

Knowing that I had made that commitment kept me from canceling.

Angel: 1, Devil: 0.

So we ran tonight and surprisingly, it killed my low expectations and it was a super good one.  I think I’m going to make sure from now on, that I walk a teensy bit longer at the beginning.  It really makes a difference in my motivation to get past that first mile when I’m finding my groove.

After a sweet 6.9km walk/run, I was on air again.  Gone were the stresses of exams. Gone were the worries about all kinds of things going on in the next while.  (Gone were 894 calories!) I was proud of my pace and perseverance, and had a wonderful time chatting with my friend about our lack of athleticism as children, and our development since we both began running, which coincidently, was around the same time.

I made us some smoothies and we sat around the kitchen table, talking about all kinds of things until she had to go. I’m sure we could have talked for hours.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my friends and just how lucky I am.  This past year or so has taught me to open myself up more to people, to trust easier, to lean when I need to.  It’s amazing how people respond differently to you when you do that.  You don’t have to be the best at everything and compare yourself with others internally or otherwise. I’ve said it before: comparing your current self to your old self, and knowing just how far you’ve come can be a HUGE motivation to keep going.  I remember when I could barely run one minute.  My friend and I talked about that tonight – about how important it is to set goals for yourself that aren’t based on what other people are doing.

When I first moved here, I really didn’t do well at opening up – I had walls up and trepidation, and I was scared and insecure.

Now, I am someone who is finally comfortable in this town.  This is my town and I love it. After moving around pretty much non-stop from birth to age 35, I’ve finally planted roots and I couldn’t be happier.

I’m finally home.

It felt so good to just be my awkward, dorky self, and know that my friend loves me for me, just the way I am – and I feel the same way about her.  I love having her in my life – and I hope that she knows I love and value her friendship.  I feel that way about all of my friends, but having local friends I can confide in, bounce things off of, falter and succeed in front of and they will be there to pick me up or cheer me on (and vice versa)?  That is so amazing.

Not to be all cheese-deli on you, but remember that Barbara Streisand song where she sings, “People who need people are the luckiest people in the world…”

It’s really true.

Imperfection

April 14, 2011 Me, Unplugged

I am not thin. I have a lot of squishy goodness around my middle that jiggles when I run. I run so I can eat brownies and ice cream with caramel topping.  I run so I won’t yell at my kids. I run to keep my moods even and my stress levels low. Sam just wrote about these feelings (and more) and I can SO relate to all of it.

I’ve been struggling since January to keep myself from slipping down that muddy landslide into depression. I fight it every single day. I put myself to bed, nearly treating myself like a child, to go to bed at a certain time, just so I won’t succumb to that awful cycle of late bedtimes and getting my kids to school late as well, all the while yelling at them to hurry up, like it’s their fault Mommy stayed up and watched 7 episodes of Intervention.

I drink a Genuine Health Transform shake every morning and chase it with an Activia yogurt. Sometimes, homemade granola is atop that yogurt. I am not hungry in the mornings but I force myself to start the day this way to stave off mid-morning cravings for Rockstar and popcorn – my old breakfast of choice that has never done me any favours.

I study in pockets of time that I fit in between making dinner, doing laundry and my insane running schedule. I feel like I’m always behind on everything, and yet, I manage to squeak by on essay and lab deadlines and pull in some decent marks. I’m *this close* to pulling off all A’s again this semester if biology doesn’t make me her bitch on the exam.

I’m going to run a half marathon with Sam on May 1st, and I’m scared.

Welcome to my silly life.

This is where I stop myself, on the daily, from falling into the “omg I have so much going on and I’ll never get it all done” mindset.

I breathe.

I list.

I plan.

All of those things don’t make it a perfect attempt at being this student-wife-mother-runner. What makes it a perfect attempt is that I am gentle with myself.

Those bedtimes? A gift to my mind.

Those early nutritious starts to the day? A gift to my body.

Those runs that I wish could last forever? A gift to my soul.

I run – through town – through life.

I am in undying love with my life despite it’s struggles.

I don’t have to run the whole half-marathon. There is no shame in walking.  I will celebrate my accomplishment, no matter the time it takes to do it.

I don’t have to get all A’s this semester. No one ever said all A’s makes a great nurse.

I am happy.

I am happy because I am gentle and kind to myself. I reach out to my friends and family when I’m slipping. I no longer hide in my shell when I’m feeling rotten.  I am doing the best I can and for the first time in my life, it’s enough.

It’s enough.

This past year has changed me in ways I can barely explain in words.

And it’s okay for me not to try.