11-11-11

I’d like to apologize, as I’ve been MIA for the past month.  It’s been a difficult time for me emotionally, mentally, spiritually, etc.  But I believe yesterday was a turning point for me.

Everyone has been buzzing about 11-11-11 being a lucky day for a few months.  People were getting married, hoping their babies would be born, and celebrating an important holiday here in the U.S. – Veterans’ Day.  I went to bed last night thinking, well, it wasn’t anything special for me, just another day.  But I was wrong.  I think it was finally a tipping point for me.

So what was I doing at 11:11 PM last night?  Reading scriptures, all of which were in 11^th chapters and 11^th verses.  This was somewhat in preparation for a talk I needed to start preparing to give in church tomorrow on scriptures.  All of the verses I read were about different things… except two.  Those two talked about relationships and marriage.  Over the past few months, I’ve become quite hardened to the idea of my ever marrying again.  This was probably why I deleted my blog for a month.  I felt why should I be writing this to someone who doesn’t exist?  I decided my knight didn’t exist.  I thought, there is no one out there who could love and accept me, flaws and all, and not either abandon me or die.  So I gave up.

At first, I felt some relief that I could just not worry about the issue anymore.  But as time passed, I became more discouraged and distant from my Father in Heaven.  I had hardened my heart to any possibility of finding my knight.

Then last night, at a birthday party for a fellow grad student, I watched an engaged couple (another of my fellow grad students with her man) and marveled that it was even possible.  In our troubled world, and as I learned more in school about human nature and the great hurdles in being able to understand anyone because we all have such different life experiences, the idea that any two people could fall in love… and stay together… seemed like a pipe dream in my mind.  My fellow grad student has talked about stresses and struggles related to her impending marriage, but last night, they were just so happy.  Their love and acceptance for each other were evident in the way they looked at each other.  And she’s also expressed a lot of peace in knowing this is the right thing.  I suppose I have a cynical attitude because I thought marrying my ex was the right thing to do, and it was, but look where I ended up.  Alone, cynical, battling feelings of worthlessness, and thoughts that I’ll never be loved and not abandoned.  The idea that something so wonderful as being married to someone forever is just a completely foreign and seemingly unattainable concept for me.

Yet, I have felt my heart softening a bit over the last couple weeks.  And today, as I was preparing for my talk, I read of experiences in my journals where I had found comfort, strength, and peace during times of trouble by reading my scriptures.  Looking back over the past 13 years, I’ve gone through a lot of junk.  But finding solace in scripture reading has always kept me going.  Somehow, someway, I reached down to the depths of my soul and pulled out enough strength to keep going… even if it was just to put one foot in front of the other, tears streaming down my cheeks and blurring my way.

I still feel like I have light years to go before getting back to the place of hope and faith I once sat at.  I still don’t know if I’ll ever make it back, if I’m strong enough.  But I do know I have a place to turn to if I need help- my scriptures.  They are my best friend.  And through them, my Heavenly Father can help me find my way back. 

Survival Mode

It goes without saying that each of us go through difficult times.  And I’m not talking about when money is tight (because when is it not tight?) or when all of your nice clothes either don’t fit or have a strange stain or even when some weird prank caller keeps calling to ask if your refrigerator is running.  I mean those times where you feel like everything is out of your control, you are completely overwhelmed, and you switch into survival mode.

This survival mode is different for each of us, and I have a theory that it changes and adapts as we “grow up”.  Some people are able to more constructively deal with the crisis stage while others get worse.  Sometimes, though, I think all of us have a complete communication crisis where everything shuts down.  Now, you could head to the FEMA website and take a self-paced course on crisis communication.  Or you could learn from those around you via observation.  Personally, I’d much rather learn from others than read a dry online manual.

So, allow me to share with you what I’ve been going through.  This summer, I learned a new way of dealing with things.  Or rather, I think after observing this particular behavior more than once now, it sunk in that perhaps I could adapt this methodology and it would be more effective at helping me deal with emotional crises.  This method includes “toughening up” “not letting things get to you” and “shutting things out”.  This, I believe, is similar to a military tactic of learning how to separate yourself in different situations.  There is the side that is nice, kind, compassionate, giving and loving, and then there is the side of you that doesn’t care about anything or anyone, it’s just about survival of the fittest.  I’m not saying you have to split your soul like Lord Voldemort, however.  

Eventually, the survival tactic of shutting out all the things that might hurt you- whether that be emotional, physical, spiritual, etc., start bleeding over into other areas of your life, those that you don’t need to protect.  You start seeing everyone and everything as a potential threat.  Even people who are trying to help you.  By this point though, you figure you’re on this course and there’s no turning back- it’s too late.

Without wanting to go into too much detail, I’ve been experiencing this survival mode the past couple of months.  But it’s starting to dawn on me that I’m starting to push people away who really genuinely care about me, and people who I truly care about.  Case in point, let me introduce you to Kerrian (remember, I change everyone’s name).  I’ve known him for a total of 14 years now.  We met my first year of college and we dated for a couple of months.  We lost touch when he went into the military and I got married.  But, we got back in touch almost two years ago (see, Facebook is useful sometimes).   

Looking back over this time since we reconnected, I can see that more than anyone I’ve known… ever… he is my best friend.  I’ve told him things I haven’t dared tell anyone.  I’ve revealed the inner workings of my head (which I think often gets pretty scary) and through it all, not once has he run away screaming and wailing.  Although this has been very good for me, it also makes me very vulnerable.  Over the past couple of months in particular, I’ve been seeing this vulnerability as an increasing liability.  This fear culminated this weekend when I completely shut him out and told him we shouldn’t talk much anymore because I need to focus on school.  Although partially true, because I have been overwhelmed with school, the truth is, I just pushed away my best friend.  And I’ve always been a strong proponent for everyone needing a best friend.  I always tell people, I’m here for you if you need someone to talk to, and I always mean it!  But I forgot about me.  I need a best friend too.

Sitting here writing this, I know he’s online right now and I could so easily start chatting with him.  But I have this picture in my head of a dog with its tail between its legs, looking up with puppy dog sad eyes asking for forgiveness.  And I think I’m too stubborn (or maybe too prideful?) to do that.  I’ve dug myself into such a hole now that I feel like there’s no rope long enough to dig back out.  And then two thoughts hit me (while I’m supposed to be reading a scholarly journal article and writing an abstract for class tomorrow).

First of all, the only time I get crazy like this with going back and forth and pushing a man away (because I’m scared of getting hurt) and then a couple days later wanting to go back and start over, is when I love someone.  Really truly love them.  I get so scared it causes me to act like an idiot and push them away because deep inside, I’m afraid they’ll do the same thing every other man has… abandon me.  And I’m sick of it.  After what happened this summer with Edward, which I think was the last straw, I just cannot put myself through that hurt again.  Look at what it’s done to me.  I’m mentally turning into a Navy Seal.

The second thing I realized…well, really, I realized two things involving Don Queco.  The first is that I’m doing the same thing to Kerrian that Don Queco did to me.  He’d push me away (because he was scared of getting hurt or of hurting me) and then always start talking to me after a couple days.  Because ultimately, he loved me and didn’t want to lose me.  And now I’m starting to do the same thing to Kerrian.  I hated it with a passion every time Don Queco did that to me.  It hurt me every time.  And I don’t want to do that to Kerrian.  I don’t know if I can not do that.  I’ve been hurt so much, and am in such a frame of mind right now, I just don’t know.  And hurting him is the last thing I want to do.  Secondly, I have learned empathy for Don Queco.  I understand now why he did the things he did.  He was depressed and scared and kept pushing everything and everyone good in his life away.  He was afraid it would all get taken away despite anything he could do.  And he didn’t want to hurt anymore.  I get it now.

I think this takes me one step deeper in forgiving Don Queco.  I’m also hoping this is a wake-up call to me to start digging myself out of this mental abyss.  I don’t want to do to Kerrian what Don Queco did to me.  Nor do I want to lose someone good.  But I’m still scared.  I need to overcome that fear and remember how to live by faith.  Maybe, if I’m lucky, he’ll forgive me and give me another chance?  I suppose I can only ask his forgiveness and know whatever happens, happens.  I love you.  Please forgive me.    

I Walk Alone

Just a poem today.

I Walk Alone

I walk alone.

One set of fresh tracks

along the moist mountain trail.

No sounds

but the trees

whispering secrets to each other.

Their words

bring soft rain

that brushes against

my bare skin.

I pause to remember.

Not so long ago

when I'd lost my way.

It was dark.

So dark and cold.

Fear covered my skin like sweat.

And I fell off the path.

I had no strength

to get up

and make my way back

to the light and warmth.

I had little desire

to leave the dark abyss.

There simply

was nothing left.

One day became 10.

Then 30.

They had no end

nor beginning.

Then, after 4 months

you came down my path.

I'm not sure

how you saw me.

How you found me.

But you found

what I'd lost.

Gently, you picked me up.

You gave me courage, hope, and strength.

Holding my hand

you brought me back to the light.

For a short time,

you walked beside me,

catching me

when I started to fall.

You pointed out

things I'd forgotten

that brought healing.

But I was still scared.

Scared I wasn't strong enough

if I had to walk

the path alone again.

You assured I could.

You had faith in me.

And then

you took a different path.

A new form

of cold and darkness

stands tall in front of me.

I walk alone.

Memoires of 9/11

I’m not sure about you guys, but I’ve been really moved reading the countless storiesgh media outlets and social media the past few days.  This was truly one of those days that will remain in the history books for eons to come.  I’ve had a lot of thoughts going through my head the past few days, and thought I’d get them out here before I explode.

Top of one of the towers

September 11, 2001- started out like any other day.  I got up to make breakfast for my son, who was 18 months old at the time, and my then husband before he went to work.  I was unemployed and looking for work at the time, very stressed about finances.  I also was thinking about trying to go back to school.  In fact, my journal entry for September 10^th said I was thinking about going to UVU for an Associates degree in communications, and then maybe I’d go to BYU to finish up a bachelor’s in Communications.  I wrote, “Could you see me as a TV reporter or anchor?”  Huh, I’d forgotten about that.

A piece from the Pentagon

My next journal entry, the next day says in big red letters across the top, “AMERICA ATTACKED!”  I wrote the following, “This is one of the most tragic days in American History.  I’ve included a CNN report I got on-line this morning.  To think that as (my ex) was leaving for work thus morning, at 6:45, I woke up and had a brief weird feeling.  At that moment, a hijacked plane was crashing into one of the World Trade Towers in NY.”  Occasionally, I’d turn on the TV news in the morning, and for some reason, I decided to that morning and was shocked by what I saw.  I saw the towers collapse.  I sat glued to the TV most of the day, hoping DS would stay occupied with his toys.  But by that evening, I was sick of watching those planes crash into the towers over and over, and seeing the destruction at the Pentagon.  So after dinner, I packed us up and we went to a local park.  I’d never before, nor have I seen since, a park as crowded as it was that night.  I guess everyone else had the same idea I did.  

I remember since then feeling such a strong sense of patriotism and being so grateful that despite this tragedy, I live in America.  A couple of weeks later, I woke up one morning thinking I should join the Air Force.  This wasn’t the first time I wanted to do this.  But this time, I really wanted to feel like I was doing my part to serve and protect our country.  I did all the paper work to become an enlisted air woman, and my ex decided he wanted to go the officer route.  We had the support from his family to care for DS while we would be in boot camp.  My ex found out he couldn’t join because of his poor eye sight in his one eye (he has a glass eye in the other).  But I decided to go ahead and join, despite a lot of reservations about whether I could even handle boot camp emotionally, mentally, and physically.  

The next time I wrote in my journal was almost a month later, ironically exactly 2 years to the day of when my daughter would be born.  Most of the entry was sharing my frustration because everyone had turned against me in my desire to join the Air Force, so I had dropped it.  My ex didn’t want to follow me around; his mom told me I shouldn’t do it.  I was frustrated because it was okay for him to join the military, but not me.  That drove a huge wedge in our marriage that was already a small crevice and it just never got better.

That was the third time I tried to join the Air Force.  Since then, that desire has never left.  Part of it has always been wanting to prove that I could do it, that I’m tough enough.  But part of it has been the desire to feel like I’m doing something worthwhile.  Doing my part to protect my family when so many others are risking their lives.  Before I started grad school, I looked into the military again, but decided to go back to school instead.  And since doing my internship at the Department of Defense, joining the military has gain come to the forefront of my mind.  The following is something I wrote for our school newspaper, which I think will be published tomorrow.

”I'm sure everyone can say, "I remember exactly what I was doing on 9/11".  But equally etched in my mind is seeing the evidence of 9/11, nearly 10 years later, still a prominent part of life and culture of Washington D.C.  I spent 10 weeks this summer as an intern at the Pentagon working in the Department of Defense.  There is a beautiful memorial outside the pentagon, at the location where the plane crashed.  Inside, there are quilts hanging along the walls, many made by school children; pieces of the walls from 9/11; quotes; and pictures of those who died in the plane and in the Pentagon.  I heard first and second-hand stories from people who were actually there when it happened.  People who had to crawl out of an eating area, holding onto each other, because there was no power and the area was so thick with smoke that no one could see anything.  Actually being there, seeing how it had affected people, and how it still affects them, makes it much more real to me now. 

Not only that, but interacting with military personnel on a daily basis reminded me that these men and women are real people with real lives and families.  They sacrifice so much to fight in Afghanistan.  I met veterans who were injured in Iraq, some very severely.  But they are still fighting in a different way- in the Pentagon or various jobs around the country- to keep us safe.  And not once did I hear any service member or former service member complain about missing out on seeing their kids grow up, or about the PTSD and radiation poisoning they are still suffering from six years later. 

We all remember watching those planes fly into the twin towers on TV- they are forever etched in our minds.  But do we remember what we learned on that day?  Do we remember what is really important in life?  Seeing the memorials in D.C. and interacting with so many who serve us in this country reminded me how blessed we are in America.  We are surrounded by unselfish people who put their lives at risk so you and I can go to school in peace. If that's not being Christlike, I don't know what is.  Over 10 weeks I grew to love, honor, and respect not only those I worked with this summer, but also those whose pictures and stories are displayed in places like the Newseum and the Pentagon- those who didn't survive, but who will always be remembered.  And I will never again take for granted those serving in the United States Armed Forces. 

To all our men and women in uniform, and all the families and friends who have sacrificed a loved one, I say, thank you.  I know it will never be enough, but I'll keep saying it and trying to serve my country in my own way to honor those who sacrificed their all.”

I don’t know yet what path my life will take.  I’m very seriously considering joining the reserves.  It’s a dream I’ve had for quite a few years now.  But it’s one option among many as I have to decide what is best for my kids.  Am I willing to sacrifice my life for their freedom?  Am I okay knowing they would have to live with their dad full time for a while- or worst case scenario- forever?  However, if I look on the bright side of things, I honestly don’t see myself dying anytime soon.  You know how some people can feel it coming? Or they can’t picture their life in the future, and then they die?  I’ve always felt very strongly I’d die from cancer much, much later in life.  

Then there are also many other options I’m considering and maybe one of those will be better.  As I’ve watched the coverage on TV, every time I see the Pentagon, I am reminded of the amazing experience I had there this summer, and tears start forming because I miss DC.  I miss the people, I miss my work, I miss feeling like I’m a part of something so much bigger, and like I’m making a difference.  It has been making it hard for me to stay focused on school as I’m so ready to finish and move forward with my life, and to do something where I feel like I’m making a positive impact.

All I know for sure is how grateful I am for everyone who sacrifices their time and lives for my kids and me.  So we can go to school, church, and participate in society.  Unlike so many in the world.  I’ve always felt at loss for words to express my thanks.  Perhaps if I do decide to join the military, I’ll finally be able to show my appreciation. 

Decisions, decisions...

The first day of school usually brings me to a lot of self-reflection and making new decisions.  This year is no different, with it being my final year in grad school.  I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on my summer experiences and decide to make what I hope will be positive changes in my life.  However, I’ve noticed there are generally two outcomes from making decisions, as I’m sure we’re all aware.

Outcome #1- things turns out great, everything runs smoothly, you never have any doubts that the decision you made was the right one.  Your confidence is strengthened in your ability to make good decisions, and you feel like you can subsequently go out and rule the world!

Outcome #2- Someone says something, does something, or something happens that makes you seriously question your decision.  Things don’t go smoothly, or sometimes even go all wrong.  It could be that although the decision you made was the right one, it still isn’t an easy path to take.  Or, it could be that you made the wrong decision and have to re-evaluate and chart a new course.  This inevitably causes you to doubt your decision making skills or you may feel like it’s too late to change course because you don’t want others to see you as wishy-washy.

I’ve been thinking about how important it is to make sure you have gathered everything you can about the situation before making a decision in order to ensure you make the right one.  However, how often do we gather what we think is the right information, but really, it is just based on our subjective impressions of reality- in other words, what we think is best based on past experience.  Or even basing our decisions on what others have done in the past as a result of our decisions?  This of course isn’t fair because that person isn’t anything like anyone you’ve ever known.  But we get scared.  Because none of us want to make the wrong decision, especially if we made the wrong decision in the past.

Okay, you’re probably saying, um, can you be a little more specific?  Sure.  Although, I have to tell you one of the decisions I made recently is to put on a happy face even when I’m not feeling it.  I often believe others really don’t want to hear about my problems, because they have their own to deal with.  And besides, I’d rather just be there to help others anyway.  So, I decided I would be there to help others and stay positive on the outside, while dealing with my own personal demons internally.  Perhaps this is another poor decision.

To continue- I’ve made two big decisions in the past few weeks.  One dealing with my Master’s Thesis, the other how to best handle a personal matter (sorry, the person involved has asked I not share details).  In the case of the former, a couple classmates today made a few comments that brought to light some options I hadn’t considered where my thesis is concerned and had me re-thinking the whole thing.  Which put me in a state of confusion all over again.  And now I’m just about back to where I started, not knowing what to do.

The other, more personal matter, I thought I made a good, sound, solid decision.  I thought I made a decision that was best for both of us.  However, I can’t count the number of times I’ve had to repeat two mantras to myself since making that decision, “I’m a strong, confident, intelligent, beautiful woman and I don’t need anyone” and “we’re both better off this way, especially the other person.”  If I have to keep telling myself these things over and over, could this really have been the right decision though?  Perhaps when I was trying to convince the other person this was the best course to take, in reality, I was trying to convince myself, because I was scared I’d just get more hurt in the end anyway.

So now what do I do, I keep asking myself.  In trying to ponder the thesis issue, I keep telling myself, you can figure this out, you can do this.  You can handle it all and juggle it all.  You can find a solution that will be the right thing.  But time is quickly ticking if I really want to graduate in April.  But I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me… right?

As for the personal issue, I’m thinking I should just lay low for a while, see if they approach me.  If they don’t, I’ll give up and know it was the right decision after all because I would have just been more hurt in the end.  Which makes me sad.  And I wonder if by letting fear rule my life again, have I really conquered the self-esteem monster yet, and will I ever?  I also wonder if what I said hurt them.  I thought I was doing what was best for both of us.  But did I?  Will I ever know?  Is it too late?  I’ve made so many mistakes in my life and made so many poor decisions that often I just don’t know if I know how to make a good decision anymore.  How can we ever possibly have all the information we need to make a good, sound decision?  And, even more importantly, why aren’t people more forgiving of us when we do make a bad decision, because every single one of us does it?  I’d like to hope this other person could forgive me, if I did unknowingly hurt them.  But knowing how things go in my life, it’s probably too late.

Tune in next time for a much more positive post.  I don’t think I can keep everything bottled up inside.  I’d like to be tough enough than nothing ever bothers me and I can just shrug everything off.  I’ll keep working on it.