Birthday Dog

Who has four paws and turns 9 today?  This dog! Happy birthday Jules!

#bostonterriersofinstagram

Also? This dog also had cancer. Two different kinds with two different probabilities of spreading at the same time. Yeah. That blows.

But! Neither one spread internally. We caught them early enough and have removed all of it so far. So she has a relatively clean bill of health right now. Which is the best possible news we could have gotten for this. No chemo or radiation treatment needed.  

But even if they were treatment options, we're not going to take it. It may not work, it's hella expensive, but most importantly Jules wouldn't understand what she would be going through.  We're going to do what's best for her, and that means keeping her comfortable.     

I have a feeling Jules will be with us for a few more years, if for no other reason the bounty of table scraps the baby drops. And Jules is a fighter, all heart. So even if this is what eventually takes her out, I know she won't go without a fight. 

No Shame

In light of Robin Williams' untimely death, I'm going to "come clean" about my mental health.
I have been taking an anti-depressant for a full year now. The past 10 years I have struggled on and off with depression, and since the spring of 2013 I developed anxiety in addition to my depression.

I caught some breaks here and there in that life calmed down enough that I could breath. I've learned coping methods that weren't alcohol, berating others or thoughts of ways to harm myself. I was incredibly lucky to have support everywhere I turned. And I'm incredibly lucky that I was strong enough for at least one moment to reach out for help, and start fighting the fear, loneliness and emptiness that was my mental health. It took a combination of counseling, support, love, medication and work,  to become healthy again.

Suicide is not selfish, it is tragic.  It is not a ploy for attention, because all I wanted to do was become invisible. I was so ashamed of my mental health. My weakness. The fear my entire world would crash into oblivion and not take me with it, leaving me alone to...I don't even know. At some point, I had to be brave and change the scary landscape I lived in. There wasn't a specific catalyst, but something pushed me to do so. Because it doesn't just "get better." It takes time, and a lot of work to heal.

There will always be moments and triggers that may upset me and set me off, but I cannot control those. I can only control myself. And I will not be shamed, I will not hide from this.

Get. HELP. There is no shame.    

For Me

Remember that wedding gown that arrived in December 2008 that caused me so much strife and nearly killed me?  I've only looked at it twice.  The first time was in a moment of weakness when it first arrived, and I cried and cried and cried.  The second time was shortly after dr soc moved to Charlotte and I knew I would marry him.  And when I looked at it that time, I felt happy, hopeful, and a little bit giddy.

That's when I knew I would get to wear my wedding gown.  And I don't feel bad about that at all.  I don't believe that I'm wearing a the dress I got for another wedding.  I got that dress because I felt beautiful in it.  Because I felt like a bride in it.  I didn't get this dress for another guy. I got that dress for me.

Walking

Yesterday I walked across the stage at UK's December graduation and received my (long-awaited) BA.

Wait, my BA? How many of you are confused because you thought I had a degree? Well, here's what happened. Despite the years, the work and mental breakdowns, my cumulative gpa (from the years of work) was just a smidgen to low to actually receive the interiors degree. I walked at uc's graduation and found out 2 weeks later I didn't. By then I didn't have the strength to fight for it, mostly due to all the years, the hard work and mental breakdowns in addition to loosing 95% of my work 2 weeks before everything was due.

So if I told you I graduated, I was flat out lying to you. (I never lied on job applications though) I usually said I finished uc. Because I was finished. I was finished with that school, finished with all the courses and ridiculous demands, the design under the threat of death, the city, the constant feeling of inadequacy and the power that school held over me for a stupid fancy piece of paper. Finished. Done. I had been humiliated enough over the years. I could not go back to that school for anything, and I certainly was not going to grovel for something they didn't want to give me anyway.

It has undoubtedly been the most shameful thing in my life. But I went back to school. A new school, a school where I fit in and fit me a whole lot better. And I did ok. I may even say I did more than ok overall one day.

But as far as commencement went, UK only offered on ceremony in May. They never offered a December graduation until this year, and when presented with the opportunity I was really unsure if I wanted to walk. Because I have walked before. Sent the announcements. Had the pictures taken. And then....failure and shame. Despite my family's wishes, I still wasn't sure, because they will never understand how awful this could be for me. I know my mom wants her pictures, but I prefer to not have my humiliation frozen there on the mantel.

I mulled it over in my head for a while and decided to walk, even though I knew it would bring up bad and unsettling memories. I knew I wouldn't be able to enjoy the ceremony fully, knowing that it can and has been taken away. And that I'm still uneasy about it and I'll feel a lot better about the whole thing when I get the transcript or coveted fancy paper. But I also walked because I knew I'd regret it later if I didn't. Also to get my mother and sister off my case. I walked for the other students who didn't get this ceremony. And I wasn't going to shun the university who will award me a degree and let the one that didn't think I was good enough win. If I didn't walk, uc still wins over me.

So fuck you uc. You don't get to tell me I'm not good enough anymore. And I'm not letting you bite any more of my moments. I walked. I win.

**12/20/10 All my grades have been posted, my semester gpa is a 3.1 and my cumulative a 2.9. I really did it!

Explanation

I've been talking about how worried I am about my dad, but I haven't told the blogosphere exactly why I am. But I'm not going to do that now. My dad's oddities can be explained by one word. And I'm assuming many of you already know or can guess what that is, because you are smart people. That or I have told you personally, or you know what I was fearing for the past 2 years.

But this not reveal thing by simply not blurting it out is a slippery slope. On one hand, it's an instant explanation and we're granted understanding and (quite often) instant sympathy. So on that hand, it takes the pressure off the concealment. But on the other hand, there's pride, my dad's and my own. Which says, it's not anyone's business in the first place, and to keep my mouth shut. I don't want to label him for pride's sake, but also because I don't want to make him an easy mark. There are a lot of unscrupulous people out there in this world and you just never know.

So I explain when I have to. We get to keep our pride for a while. And we just continue to worry.

Far Far Away

Dr soc started his new job today in Charlotte. Or as I call it, far far away.

To say that I miss him is an understatement. I know it's only a few months of being apart and there will be visits so it's not like we're completely sequestered from each other. This far far away isn't unmanageable either, and I'm not worried about our relationship in the slightest either. But I feel lonely without him in town.

Ever since his brother's wedding in early July, I've spent every night with him or at his house (which is now on the market if anyone wants to buy a house in Lexington). There were a few nights he had to go to Charlotte (one for the interview and others for orientation), but I house/dog sat when he was gone. And even though we just got back from a vacation together and spent a ton of time together (and I don't think he got too sick of me, so phew), and he left only 2 days ago, it's just tough knowing he's a 7 hour drive away and I won't see him a half hour after I get off work. I've gotten used to sleeping next to him, or at the very least in his bed, curled up on my side of the bed but with my head on his pillow.

I know this is just a short period of time, and as dr soc put it: we spend 4 months of not sleeping next to each other, but we get to sleep together every night after that. I know I'm just being whiny right now and in the grand scheme of things it's a tiny blip. And this is by far not the worse thing I've ever gone through and the outcome is more than worth it.

But far far away is still far far away. And I just miss him. It's as simple as that.

Happy Anniv...oh wait.

Here's where I was last year:

Virgina Beach sunbathing, trying not to think about my non-wedding day
(naps and wine helped)

I was remarkably serene that day, considering how disappointed I was. But I saw the silver lining and at some point tweeted this: "nap on the beach. WAY better then getting married to the wrong guy."
(However, the next day I broke down because I think I was trying so hard to be remarkably serene the day before.)

This year I'm way better. It has crossed my mind a few times, but it's more along the lines of a wisp of a thought then an all depression. Plus this year I have a boyfriend which removes the sting of at the time were shattered dreams.

So happy anniversary to me. Happy anniversary of not making the biggest mistake of my life. Happy anniversary to being smart enough to know I didn't want to be a divorce statistic. Happy anniversary to me for being strong!

Optimist...Yeah....

Dr Soc is interviewing for a job far far away. I am not happy about this.

I understand the situation. I've even somewhat been in a similar type of thing myself. Like I said, I understand. But do I like it? Not one bit.

I'm falling for him (it seems incredibly soon I know). But now I don't know if I tell him because it seems selfish to do so.

I know I'm jumping the gun. It's just an interview. It's not an offer or an acceptance. And what's the worst that could happen? He gets an offer and accepts, yay for him. Then he moves and I never see him again, boo for us. Yeah that sucks for us, but for a few months we both got to date someone pretty great. I've survived much worse (see first few months of the blog if you need further clarification).

So it will turn out ok somehow. But I'm the furthest thing from a super fan that the situation exists in the first place.

Well....

I was musing into my empty wine glass reflecting on the last year, comparing myself to where I was a year ago. December was a really bad month last year. Really, really really bad. I was bitterly lonely, I hadn't started school, and I didn't like my hospital job becasue I was so isolated. In addition to trying to find the dog a new home, my wedding gown arrived and my mom wanted to rehash every single detail of my sister's wedding. I was arguing with my ex via email about the dog, her vet bills, the cell plan in a-let's-twist-the-knife-deeper-shall-we manner. I was miserable to say the least.

Well, I'm definitely some steps up this December. I'm still hankering for a boyfriend, but I'm not as lonely. I did really bad in school this semester, which sucked, but I think I can turn it around in the spring. My wedding gown is in the closet and I haven't looked at save the one moment of weakness when it was first brought home. But I got to keep my dog (!), I like my library job, and I can look at my sister's wedding pictures and smile, instead of jealousy ripping through me like a serrated knife. I haven't had an email from the ex in months and if I never talk to him again that suits me just fine.

It's just... I left him to be a better me essentially, but I don't feel as if I've bettered much. Some, but not by leaps and bounds and flying colors. And there's a thin film of hurt still that he loved the possibility of heavy metal band more than a future with me.

It broke my heart to leave and to be where I was last year. I don't love him, and definitely not in the same would give your life for him love that I felt before. But I don't want anything bad to happen to him. I don't exactly want anything good to happen to him either, but hey, I'm still bitter.

Because honestly, how happy can you want someone to be when they broke your heart? Maybe that means not enought time has passed. Or maybe that means letting go compleatly and growing up.

Help

Some of you might know this, and others may be surprised. But I've been in counseling/short term therapy a few times.

Before anyone says/thinks "you could have talked to me," or "I would have helped if I had known," or "it couldn't have been that bad," STOP. Because that's not true. You honestly can't predict how your own grief will affect you, you can't know how you would react to another person's. Yes I had support all those times. Really good support at that. And it helped a little. But it wasn't enough.

But this is not going to be a tell-all confessional. I'm not telling you when, for how long, how many times, and what for (but yes, one was for the broken engagement). That's something I'm keeping in it's protective bubble. And I'm hardly the poster child for metal health as a self proclaimed spaz/crazy girl. It's just the god's honest truth. I needed help. I recognized that I did. And while this may sound counter intuitive to some, I felt stronger in getting it. For admitting I couldn't do "this" on my own. So I got help. And I'm better for it.

Hunting

Anyone else starting to get sick of all my boy related talk? Because I am. Seriously, the default crush, the name change, the boyfriend list, fraternity boys, the cheating one, the breaking up, all posts within the last 2 weeks.

And all this talk about "getting" a husband, makes me feel as if I'm literally hunting. Like I'm an adversary in the single jungle thrashing through swamps of bad dates and stealthily setting traps to ensnare my prey. Undercutting other woman through thickets of hot spots armed with high heels and an arsenal of Cosmo tricks.

And let's be honest, this is looking a little desperate.

SCREW THIS. I'm done. You men can hunt for me.

Expiration Date

Ok, it's been a year since I seriously starting thinking about breaking my engagement. And it's about time I get over it.

I am for the most part. But there are still hiccups. I flinch if I get an email from him. I got a little upset he didn't wish me happy birthday. I smirk when I cook with all the things he hated. The thought of him with another girl annoys me. Sometimes I wish I kept my engagement ring, because I still think of it as mine, but mostly because I'm afraid he'll put it on another girl's hand.

So there's still some bitter there. I might have some of it the rest of my life. And I know that if I ever see him again, even if it's in 50 years with grown children and a well lived life, my breath will stop in my chest and I'll be that very lost and hopeless 26 year old.

But it got better, which amazes me. And I hope this is the hardest thing I'll ever choose to do, because I don't know if it was worth the anguish. But time has passed and it does heal most wounds. And it's no longer an excuse.

Moving On

I found my favorite picture from the night I got engaged. It's actually one of my favorite pictures of us in general. Our heads are tucked together, neither of us looking at the camera because we're both looking at my newly ringed finger. It was a random shot, but it was a moment between us to just be ours.

Two months ago I couldn't bring myself to open that picture box. Finding any picture, especially that one, I would have burst into tears and fallen down the disappointment spiral. But I still would have been unable to let the picture go regardless.

Sunday I opened the box and found it. I held it in my hands and stared at it for a while, remembering the happier times. And I sighed and thought, "you know, this could have been. ::pause:: But now it's going to be so much better." Without a tear, regret, bitter or sadness. Just an acknowledgment of my past.

I'm keeping the picture for now, it was and always will be a big moment in my life. But before I put it back in the box I wrote that thought, verbatim, on the back of it. Because it is going to be so much better. In fact, it already is.

Fishy Fishy

Truth be told, I'm not over him/it. I'm not crying anymore, and the epiphany was a milestone, but it wasn't a complete cure-all. Just because you know something is going to hurt, doesn't make it hurt any less. I won't deny that know what I was supposed to be doing on my wedding checklist if I were getting married in two months (sending the invites, ordering wedding bands, bridal shower...). I still keep track, and it saddens me that I'm not doing these things.

There are days that are harder then they should be, and I don't really know what triggers it sometimes. But as painful as everything was, given the chance to do it over, I would make the same choice. That makes me smile, smirk even. I'm going to go a lot farther in life because I left him. I'm not worrying about what color the table linens should be (pink, duh) and how to keep the future MiL from sugesting anymore crap (sometimes her helpful was just intrusive). I am worrying about my class schedule, what and when I can take certain classes. And I'm worried about getting into to pharamcy school in the first place too. I have a different checklist, and different goals now. A better checklist and way better goals. I have much bigger fish to fry. But part of me still kinda want that little fish too.

Epiphany

I got an email from the ex, bla bla blah. When I got to keep the dog I decided I could handle an email every now and again if he wanted to know about her. And so far, it's been ok, they're few and far between (you know, the band just keeps him soooo busy), and I just skim over the band bull shit he keeps telling me (so 95% of the email). He still finds me funny (I can write a witty email), and the little snippets of my life I tell him impresses him. Apparently having goals (you know, pharmacy, and having a back up plan just in case I don't get into school) is impressive to him. I guess anything's impressive to someone who's never had a realistic goal.

But here's where the epiphany comes in. The drummer of the band knocked up his girlfriend and she's due in 2 months. Surprise surprise, the two idiots don't know how to use birth control properly. But anyway, the ex seems to think the baby will have little if any impact on the band. Which is of course right on the verge of putting out it's full length album (snort) and also about to hire a manager (snort again). And I'm thinking, you idiot, a baby changes everything.

And it hit me: Holy crap. I made the right choice. Oh my god, I made the right choice. I made the right choice!

I know I've said that before, but this is the first time I've truly felt it. I've been wrestling with the did I make the right choice feelings for a while. And I was definitely leaning toward the yes I did side. But his email was kind enough to confirm that for me.

I made the right choice. I'm going to be OK. You should see the smile on my face. I made the right choice!

I wonder

I wonder if he misses me. I wonder if he even thinks about me honestly. I wonder if he misses Bailey. And I wonder, what if I was still waiting on him to decide on me?

But in the midst of all the wondering, there are some things I miss. I miss the companionship (when he paid me any attention that is). I miss being caught red handed watching terrible tv (happened more then I would like to admit). I miss his sigh of content when I ran my fingers through his hair. I miss his ability to interpreting my random noise. I miss the random I love you's whispered in my ear and the kiss that followed. I miss the nights we did homework together, and later when we were out of school, the nights he played xbox while I read on the couch beside him. I even miss arguing who's turn it was to take the dog out while she looked expectantly at us (now it's always my turn). But there are a lot of things I don't miss though.

It's hard not to think about him now that I have the dog. But she's my dog, not ours anymore. And the memories aren't as painful as they once were. They are more along the lines of something you know was there, even if it wasn't remarkable. Sort of remembering what you had for lunch the other day. I wish he was capable of being the man I wanted and deserved, but that's just not who is is.

I don't wish every day like I use to. And I've gone weeks without crying now (yay!). I feel like I really am better (I'm getting help too). All the things I miss are perfectly capable of happening again, with a better guy. But I think part of me will wonder, "what if..." for a long time.

Toddler Steps

I think? I'm ready for a new boyfriend. Think.

Yes it still hurts that I "lost" to a glorified garage band. It's not the same holy-crap-my-life-is-ending feeling, it's a disappointing taste that lingers for way longer then it should. Kind of like chi tea; it smells heavenly, but the taste is so... nothing. Like you're licking a dry cinnamon stick (not that I know what that's like or anything) A let down. That's what he is, a let down. Like Chi tea. Fail.

But I'm ready for someone else to make me feel good about myself. I know I should do that on my own and not rely on another person, but I will always need the guy telling me I'm beautiful (even if I'm having a fat day. You. Will. Lie). Having a boyfriend does that for me. I just want someone to snuggle up to. And the dog does curl up next to me (soooo cute), but it's not the same as having someone's arms around you.

So I think I'm ready to wade in the dating pool, some harmless (or not) flirting, a crush here and there, just enough to remind me I'm not dead. I know I shouldn't rush into anything, but I just want to know that he's out there. And where is he? He's not in any of my classes this semester, because I am older then everyone. Seriously, even if a kid's a senior, he's 22, maybe 23. And I am just not ready to be a cougar. Yet*.

*Unless it's Clayton. he should move back to Kentucky so I can stare at him. Of course if I ever did snag all 6'3" fighter pilot parts of him I could never ever ever look his sister in the eye again. Ever.

I'm not stupid

I have a group of ridiculously smart friends from high school. And by group, I mean all of them. Believe it or not, I went to a really good public school in Kentucky. But one of the things about having smart friends is that I feel that I'm competing with them. One's in med school, two have already passed the bar. And the rest of them are working on a PhD or already have a masters.

And then there's me, who went to school for interior design. First, I will never belittle the design career or dumb it down. It's hard, and it's a lot more then picking out paint colors. I admire my college friends who are architects and designers, they do something I couldn't do myself. Design is not one of my strengths and I've realized that. I made the wrong career choice at 18. But my high school friends, all made that same type choice at at 18, and they doing pretty well with it.

I know I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed to them. I'm flighty, I giggle, and I can tell you who are Hefner's new girl friends before I can name all 3 of Newton's principles (at least I know there are 3 right?). I knew I couldn't compete with these people on that level. I wasn't applying to Ivy league schools and I was no where close to scoring a 1600 on my SAT (isn't it 2400 now?). And now I'm going back to school too, so we might get some college rivalry going again. But I'm starting from scratch, essentially I'm going back for an undergrad. So while they are writing their dissertations, I'm just trying to remember how to find the hypotenuse of a triangle. I still feel like the 18 year old who picked interior design. I played the silly girl card for too long and it's left me feeling pretty lousy about myself. I'm used to being the dumb friend. But I'm not stupid. And it's about time I proved that to myself.