Things That Make Me Smile

I need this post today.  I need this exercise today.  My mind is not where it should be.  It is lingering in dark places...focusing on things I can do absolutely nothing about...dwelling on too many unknowns...searching for answers to questions I may never have.  I woke up this way.  In the past if I had gotten out of bed in this kind of mood my entire day would be shot.  Lots of tears...lots of time wasted waiting for someone or something to make me feel better.  Well folks, one thing I've learned these last months?  Nobody is going to do it for you.  Write it down...stitch it into a sampler...tattoo it on your forehead:  Nobody is going to do anything for you.  Learn how to do things for yourself.  You have the best answers for you.

So how do I get out of these moods?  Well, some days I never fully do.  But I am able to function without becoming a gelatinous pool of tears and sorrow. In all honesty, I've had more days filled with smiles in the last two or three months than I've had for the last several years.  Do I recommend that all of you do it this way?  Are you kidding me?  Good Lord no.  Again...you have the best answers for you.  If opening up to friends, family, health care professionals, or your clergy works then DO IT!  If eating ice cream six times a day and going skydiving naked appeals to you I say go for it.  If you are so lost in the darkness that you need medical treatment to get out?  Do NOT hesitate to seek out that help.

All right how do I start one of these days?  Well, as I do most days.  I get out of bed, get myself ready, feed and medicate the cats, get the girls up, dressed and fed, and get Hope on the bus before 8:30.  After that, I sit down with my breakfast and my laptop, check my email, find out what's going on in the world, and finish by checking out what new ways Facebook is pimping me and my information out for that day.  Each day I update my status...and on days like today I want to send out an emotional booty call.  You know...vaguebooking at it's best?  "My life sucks...why me...why must I go through something like this?"  Yeah, I used to do that.  Key words here being USED TO.  That kind of thinking is a drug.  All I was doing was putting out an all call for somebody else to come and make me feel better.  I'd end up sitting at the computer basking in the warmth and sympathy of all those responding and end up feeling worse than I had when I started.  I found that I quickly became used to it and craved even more attention.  Well, no thanks.  I've pulled myself out of that one and I'm NOT going back.

My statuses now alternate between what I'm actually doing, song lyrics, quotes, plain old smartass commentary, and inspirational messages.  When I feel like crap, chances are more than good you'll find an inspirational message.  First of all, that's probably going to resonate with someone reading it and possibly put a smile on his/her face.  Secondly it smacks down the irrational thoughts in my head by replacing the negative with a positive.  Does that keep the negativity at bay all day?  Nope, but it's a damn good start.

Oh...my status for today?

Life is short...embrace those you love...treasure those who make you smile...hold close those who make you a better person...be the person you want to be...take a chance...reach out to someone who misses you...LIVE...start today. Don't deceive your free will at all...just receive it.---mostly Mel with a little help from Yes

Things That Make Mel Smile

1.  Walking---yeah...still.  I don't think there is another soul out there that gets how important this is to me.  I am not being sarcastic when I tell you that my walks are what hold me together.  My grip on sanity is tenuous at best.  Without that hour at least six times a week I can just hang it up here and now.  It's not just the exercise, although that is the major point.  It's getting out...enjoying the sunshine...the breeze on my face.  Having no responsibility other than what tunes I am listening to, keeping my stride short, not coming down too hard on my heels, and aligning my body to work either my legs, butt, or core.  (I know...I'm a geek.  Get used to it.  I revel in it.)

At least once a week I run into someone and we'll stop and chat for a bit.  If it's one of the many dogs on my route I have to stop and make a fuss...especially over the latest addition...world's cutest eight week old Boston Terrier.  Of course, if I run into Phil we chat for more than a bit because we have to know what each other is listening to, which leads to him singing to me and then we start discussing friends from high school.  Phil is my former high school history teacher.  He has sung to me each and every time he's seen me in the last 30+ years.  Phil makes me smile.

2.  Music---again...yeah...still.  The songs have changed though.  Before they were, for lack of a better explanation, picking at scabs.  The walls were down but all the hurts were still there and needed to be experienced before the healing could begin.  After everything was left raw and bleeding I transitioned into a phase of healing.  For whatever reason I found myself going through a bunch of my old country CD's and then downloading even more country music online.  Thank you Randy Travis, Marty Stuart, Martina McBride, Brad Paisley, Diamond Rio, and Hal Ketchum.  I can proudly tell you those scabs are now healed.  There are still scars...there always will be.  But they are a badge of honor to prove to myself that I've done it...I've made it through.  Oh, and my "Then You Stand" bracelet?  I've worn it every day...the heart is scratched, battered, and scarred...but still beautiful...still worth loving...just like my own.

So what's next?  Well, I've moved into my "rebuilding" phase.  No, I'm not rebuilding the walls.  I'm rebuilding Mel.  There were a lot of good things about old Mel.  I can't tell you how many people have looked me straight in the eye and said, "Mel, you were pretty special to begin with.  That's all part of who you are too...don't lose her!"  So maybe "integrating" would be a better term.  What am I listening to now?  Well, my musical tastes have always run a pretty wide gamut.  I'm told weekly if not daily by one family member or another that my taste in music sucks.  It doesn't bother me anymore.  It is, after all, MY taste in MY music.  Right now I'm obsessing over AC/DC.  When The Spousal Unit heard it he said, "YOU'RE listening to AC/DC?  You used to call that Devil Music!"  So I did...and now I don't.  I hear a certain one of their songs in my head whenever I walk into a new situation...makes me stand taller...gives me immense confidence...and maybe even a bit of a swagger.  No, I'm  not going to tell you which one...it'll be more fun for you to decide!  Also in heavy rotation...Clay Walker, Carrie Underwood, Dido, Rascal Flatts, Keith Urban, Annie Lennox and a few dozen more.

3.  Going RED---Yes that's RED not red.  At one point in my life I was blonde...yeah...I'm not a blonde.  I may have been born with brown hair, but this girl was born to be a REDHEAD.  I've had many different shades...light, dark, natural, copper...but I'm happiest when it's RED.  My last shade was pretty.  It was very dark...I didn't like it.  So when I went in a couple of weeks ago and my stylist asked me, "Well?  What would you like this time?"  I said, of course, "RED!"  She said, "Okaaaay."  I said, "I want CFM RED."  (Ok, I didn't really use the initials...I said the actual words.  She's known me for well over 20 years...she and I happen to share a love of "colorful" language.)  I said, "I believe in polite society it's referred to as 'Harlot Red'."  She said, "We can do that.  I have that color."  Man did she.  This is MY color.

4.  Shopping---No kidding?  More specifically bargains.  In my book, bargains are something you actually went shopping for in the first place and got at a great price.  I LOVE going to Old Navy, leaving with at least 15 items and having spent less than $120.  You know...like pants and dresses and shirts for Claire, mittens and jeans and shirts for Hope, socks for both of them, shirts and jeans and a winter coat for me?  Yep...I've done it.

My beloved green walking shoes finally gave up the ghost.  I headed to Shoe Carnival last weekend to see if they had anything.  Well...they were having a BOGO 1/2 off sale.  I didn't find another pair of green walkers, but I did find a decent pair of blue ones.  I'd had my eye on those sweet little Skechers shown above for a couple of months but couldn't see spending almost $40 on a pair of "fun" shoes.  Thanks to the sale and my precious green walkers breathing their last breath, I didn't have to.

My next shopping trip will be for new capris.  Last spring when I started walking every day I went from a size 8 to a size 6.  Well...being on the treadmill all winter?  Yep...all my new size 6's from last year are too big.  Time to go shopping for some size 4's!

5.  Smelling Good---I know...something so simple.  Let's face it...I'm a girly girl...dare I say...diva.  I don't leave the house without make-up. I put lipstick on before I go for my walk for crying out loud.  So it just goes to reason that I'd like to smell good too...right?  You may remember I found comfort in Bath & Body Works Black Raspberry Vanilla.  That has become my signature scent of late.  Hey, when they have a sale where you buy three and get three free?  I'm there.  So along with my shower gel, lotion, and bubble bath this time I bought some body spray.  I'm addicted to the stuff.

Scent has always been my defining sense.  Sight, sound, taste, and touch all work too, but a scent will bring back a memory, a feeling like no other...for me at least!  Some of the best compliments I've ever received center around me smelling good.  I worked with this one guy...Bill...he's also the one who called me "Mel" for the first time.  I walked into his room one morning to ask him a question and before I even finished my sentence he said, "Wow you smell good!"  I remember that like it was yesterday...if yesterday happened to be the mid '90's.  I also remember the fragrance I was wearing at the time.  Once upon a time, before he walked out of my life taking a rather substantial portion of my heart with him, an extraordinary young man told me that my scent was "intoxicating".  Now folks?  I don't know about y'all?  But that was something I'd been waiting my entire life to hear.  If a memory like that doesn't stir something inside your soul...you need to get yourself to the nearest hospital and get checked for signs of life.  Every single time I think about that comment...I smile...from the inside out.

6.  Cute Underwear---Yes again...something so simple.  I have recently settled my dispute with Victoria's Secret as I've actually found something that is cute, fits, and doesn't need Leonard Nimoy to locate it on a regular basis.  I'm sorry...was that last reference too obtuse for you?  Remember the show, "In Search Of" hosted by Leonard Nimoy?  You figure it out.  I've also had a major epiphany that I'm allowed to buy cute bras too.  So if I see a cute little black number with green polka dots then I'm not going to pass it up in favor of one that won't show under a white t-shirt...I'm going to buy them both.

7.  A Good Cup Of Tea And Some Chocolate In The Afternoon---pretty self explanatory...no?

8.  Going To The Movies---When I was in high school...and college...I spent a lot of time at the movies...by myself.  It's just easier that way.  It was too much of a hassle to find someone who was willing to go with me.  Apparently my taste in film sucks too.  ; )  I haven't been to the pictures in ages...the last one I saw was Titanic!  I fixed that several months ago by going to see "Sherlock Holmes."  LOVED IT!  One of the previews they showed was for, of course, Iron Man 2.  Oh myyyyyyyyyyyyy.

Let me just say right now?  I do not have a thing for Robert Downey, Jr.  He's never even made my list of the top 1000 guys I've ever had a crush on...and no, that list is never going to be posted here for your stalking pleasure.  I did enjoy him as Sherlock Holmes and after seeing the preview for Iron Man 2 I made it my duty to procure a copy of the first Iron Man movie.  ::sigh::  I'm in deep trouble.  Downey's character, Tony Stark is...how shall I say it...hot?  I have a patented weakness for his "type".  Brilliant, successful, self assured, CONFIDENT...dare I say bordering on cocky...or arrogant?  Gets me every time.

I've been watching the trailer for IM2 for the last week online.  Claire seems to share my fascination.  She started out by calling him "Toby Dark" but she's since corrected herself.  She will tell her sister at least three times a day that the man on Mama's computer is Tony Stark...he's not Iron Man until he puts on the mask.  She's also informed me that she wants to be Iron Man for Halloween.  That's my girl!

Yep...Iron Man 2 opens tomorrow.  I may not make it on Friday, but you can be sure I'll be AIS this weekend.  Happy Mother's Day to me...

9.  Not Finding Anything New During My Monthly BSE---again...no explanation needed!

10.  Watching My Precious Girl Find Her Strength---While my daughters are probably the chief source of my aggravation, they are also the biggest source of my joy.  My darling Hope...she's so timid...so shy...everyone literally walks all over her.  She's very much like her mama was at that age.  I have worked so hard, trying to get her to stand up for herself...I don't want her to be like me...I want her to find her strength and her center NOW so she won't have to totally deconstruct once she becomes an adult.

She came home a couple of weeks ago in tears...her "best friend" told her that Americans are prettier than the Chinese.  Really?  How can you look at that face and SAY something like that?  Do you not see the light radiating from her very soul?  My heart shredded for her that day...the first of many times I'm sure.  I told her that everyone has their own opinion...it doesn't matter what the brat (ok I didn't use that word) thinks.  And besides, she's both...she's a Chinese born American.  She said, "Mama?  Do you think I'm beautiful?"  I said, "Didn't Mama tell you that you were the most beautiful baby she'd ever seen?"  She crumpled in my arms and we both shed a few tears.  After that she bounded out of the room and she and her little sister started playing "Chinese School".  If that were the end of it I'd be completely satisfied.  However, a couple of days later I was tickling her and started poking her in the belly and on her chest, emphasizing whatever silly words we were using when she said, "Mama.  Don't poke me like that.  I don't like it."  It was nothing short of jaw dropping...she was firm...she was resolute...there was no timidity in her tone.  My GOD I was so proud of her.  But wait!  Last week was her school's Ice Cream Social.  We stopped in her room to see what she'd been working on and to say hello to her teacher.  On each student's desk was a book they had made called "Here's The Scoop".  The first page of Hope's book read, "I'm special because I'm Chinese."  Ok...I need a Kleenex now...

So there you have it.  A list of ten things that consistently make me smile.  I'd like to leave you with a couple of thoughts from my friend Sherri.  Sherri has this talent for pushing all the crap aside and getting to the heart of the matter.  It is for that reason in high school that I dubbed her "No Shit Sherri".  Sherri came up with the most wonderful saying, "Suffering...a gift we give ourselves."  How true is that friends?  How many times when we have the CHOICE to be either miserable or not, do we choose misery?  I'm not doing it anymore.  You have permission to smack me if I do.

Secondly?  She has taught me to take care of myself FIRST.  And no, that isn't being selfish.  By taking care of Mel first, everything else just seems to fall into place.  I am more peaceful, more centered, more able to focus on those around me.

Be blessed y'all...Happy Mother's Day weekend!

Changes

Yeah...so...

The last few days have sent me back into the pit. No, not all the way back to the bottom thank God. Let's just say I tumbled over the edge, slammed against a few sharp boulders along the way and landed on my face a good 50 feet from the surface.

What brought about this delightful little detour? I would hazard to guess that it's a combination of a lot of little things. I've been going full throttle for the last couple of weeks. I'd reached that stage in the grief articles where you are looking forward to life again...feel the need to clean out, start over, organize your life. Mel being Mel, I only have one speed...Mach 20. Fueled by the EXTREME high of a clear head for the first time in months I was the very vision of a white tornado. Rooms that hadn't been cleaned in ages sparkled. It was suddenly no longer taking your life in your hands to open the door to the pantry. The magazines being shoved under the couch since 2007 are no more. I cannot tell you how liberating it was to clean out and organize all of my drawers and in the process throw away two garbage bags full of clothes, and donate another two shopping bags full. I am no longer that person. I don't want to wear her clothes.

I had started on the closet when the bottom fell out. I didn't even want to take my bath last Friday. I felt like crap. I spent my entire Saturday in bed. It was torturous. The sun was shining...it was most probably the last nice day we'll see until spring. Well great...now I'm crying...this just sucks. Sunday? Back to my normal (yeah, whatever that is) self. Up, dressed, sorted laundry, took the girls shopping for their Halloween costumes, had lunch with the fam at Rockne's, even managed to sneak in a walk, albeit a chilly one. Right before bed, the blues returned. Folks, I don't get the Sunday night blues. I haven't since I quit my teaching job, but let me tell you, that's what I had.

This week has progressed and my mood has darkened. Yesterday? On three separate occasions I found myself sequestered in an out of the way, quiet room in my house sobbing...projectile tears...body shaking...gut wrenching...sobs.

Besides being sick and exhausted the girls are doing the holiday thing. You know...every year Hope becomes a loon around no matter WHAT holiday it is and Claire has learned by example. Speaking of examples, Hope's picked up some FABULOUS new things at school. I don't know how many times in the last week she's told me I have a big butt. Let's see...I've also heard that I'm the oldest one in the family (the truth hurts), I have a giant belly, and boy I sure am fat. Swell. And no, she has not heard these things from anyone inside this house because if her Daddy said those kinds of things to me or anyone else Mama would already be in prison for teaching Daddy some manners the hard way.

The sorrow of yesterday is today's anger. I woke up on simmer and it boiled over about an hour ago. I am well and truly pissed at everyone and everything. Today? Without exaggerating? The girls haven't listened to a single thing I've told them. Not once. Mama Vesuvius erupted after lunch when she walked into the girls' bathroom and found...puddles...all over the vanity. I asked why there was water all over the vanity...I thought that was a logical question. Claire chimed in with, "I no do it! Hopie do it!" Sooo...I say, "Hopie? Why is water all over the vanity?" No answer and she was closer to me than Claire. I repeated myself for the third time. She said, "What did you say?" At this point there was actual steam coming out of my ears. I repeated myself a fourth time and was told that she did it because she wanted to and just to see what would happen. The top of my head is getting ready to blow off. Then while I'm ranting at her about the mess she's made she puts her hand to her mouth, blows one of those delightful little fart noises, and laughs herself senseless. Yeah...the explosion was felt three states away. I'm not going to win any Parent Of The Year Awards today.

I think something else that is bothering me has to do with the fact that it will soon be my dad's birthday. He would've been 86 this year. Wow. For those of you that don't know the story:

When I was a sophomore in college, my mother and I had gone into town to do some shopping. When we returned home she looked out the window and said, "Why is your dad laying in the backyard?" This really wasn't an unusual question as I have pictures of Dad sleeping just about anywhere...even in an upturned wheelbarrow. I said, "I don't know, he's probably sleeping." She said, "But the ground is so cold..." I ran out the door like a shot, called to him the entire time I ran through the backyard. When I finally reached him he wasn't breathing and his lips were blue. I started CPR. My mother came up behind me and said, "Should I call an ambulance?" I told her yes. She was frozen in shock. I got up, ran back to the house, called for an ambulance, ran back outside and started CPR again until it arrived. He was pronounced dead at the hospital...massive coronary. He was 58...I was 19.

Losing a parent at any age is hard but somehow I think the younger you are the worse it is. You carry that with you every single day for the rest of your life. I can still tell you that his mouth tasted like cigarettes. Want to bet if I took up smoking after that? I could taste what he had eaten for lunch...and I can't even think about eating said item. I won't share it with you. I don't want to ruin something that you might enjoy by attaching it to someone's death. I have a tremendous amount of anger towards my father for basically leaving me in charge. I became the "mother" that day. My mother is NOT helpless, but will portray that role with relish. There were many things she refused to do that she could've done. I want to be able to say that's done and over with. I want the hurt and anger and the just plain I am SO PISSED OFF feelings to go away. I don't want to hate my Dad because he died.

Add to this the ever present, ever fluctuating hormones and OH what a great life I'm having. I have learned through all of this that feelings LIE. And those frickin' little hormones get in there and poke at those lying feelings with sharp pointed sticks. I have become very good at realizing when the hormones are trying to take control. I try very hard NOT to listen to them. I refuse to make any type of important decision until they stabilize, and when they are as bad as they have been this week? I pull back from anyone I care about...WAY back. My life doesn't suck but that's what my feelings are telling me today. They are telling me that:

1. You suck as a parent. You NEVER should've dragged those children 1/2 way around the world to be exposed to you.

2. You suck as a person. You don't have a CLUE as to what you want to do with your life. You're 46 years old for crying out loud! You have no talent and by the way? You're stupid too.

3. You suck as a friend. Seriously. No wonder nobody likes you.

4. You're old...and you look it. You're trying too hard you know.

5. That thing you've been fighting God about for the last 6 months? Yeah, you're going to lose that too.

6. Need I go on?

Again folks, I KNOW this isn't the truth...ok, so today I PRAY it isn't the truth. I KNOW things are going to get better. I know I can get through this...this is nothing compared to what it was just a few months ago. But right now all I can feel is the hurt and the anger and the frustration.

What helps?

1. Being self aware for one. I know what's happening, I know I'll get through it.
2. Being determined to get through it and back on the course I've plotted for New Mel.

3. Dark humor. Honestly, when I'm like this, the darker the better. I took the girls to Target this morning. As we were passing the DVD's I noticed one called, "Drag Me To Hell". The very first thought that popped into my deranged mind? "No need. I'm already there." It made me laugh people. I needed it.

4. Music? Always. I've mentioned 3 Doors Down before and how perfectly their songs fit my life at this point in time. I'll close with one that seems frighteningly appropriate to this psychotic rant.

Until next time y'all,

Changes
Matthew Darrick Roberts; Robert Todd Harrell; Christopher Le Henderson; Brad Arnold


I'm not supposed to be scared of anything, but I don't know where I am
I wish that I could move but I'm exhausted and nobody understands (how I feel)
I'm trying hard to breathe now but there's no air in my lungs
There's no one here to talk to and the pain inside is making me numb

I try to hold this under control
They can't help me 'cause no one knows

Now I'm going through changes, changes
God, I feel so frustrated lately
When I get suffocated, save me
Now I'm going through changes, changes

I'm feeling weak and weary walking through this world alone
Everything you say, every word of it, cuts me to the bone (and I believe)
I've got something to say, but now I've got no where to turn
It feels like I've been buried underneath all the weight of the world

I try to hold this under control
They can't help me 'cause no one knows

Now I'm going through changes, changes
God, I feel so frustrated lately
When I get suffocated, save me
Now I'm going through changes, changes

I'm blind and shakin'
Bound and breaking
I hope I make it through all these changes

Now I'm going through changes, changes
God, I feel so frustrated lately
When I get suffocated, save me
Now I'm falling apart, now I feel it

But I'm going through changes, changes
God, I feel so frustrated lately
And I get suffocated, I hate this
But I'm going through changes, changes

Changes can be found on my playlist at the bottom of the page.

Looking Forward

One GIANT component of pulling myself up and out of the pit has been not only looking forward to a place where I no longer felt the way I did, but also having things to look forward to, just to get me through each day.

One of the articles I read about grief stated that you should surround yourself with things that comfort you. Again, folks? This is what worked for me. I'm not saying that ANY of what I did will work for you or anyone else you know. Find something that you think will work for you and run with it. If it doesn't work, try something else. Keep trying until you find YOUR peace.

1) Ice Cream---I dropped quite a few pounds during my time in the black hole. Yes, I hit my danger weight and I went below it. But I was also continuing to exercise every day and I wasn't showing any physical signs (or mental for that matter) of the return of my eating disorder. Stress, sadness, depression...yeah...you're gonna lose some weight. One afternoon, during Hope's first week of school I took some Ben and Jerry's out onto the patio with me while Claire was napping. It didn't solve anything. I cried before and after I ate it. But it did taste GOOD and I could stand to push a few extra calories so that went into the plus column.

2) Walking---This one was a big one. I continued walking every single day even at my lowest. Everything I said in my previous post about my walks still rings true. I had days where knowing I was going to be able to go for a walk was the only thing that saved me. The endorphin boost gave me enough energy to simply do the dishes, grab a shower, and go to bed. Again, I still felt miserable...I still wanted to crawl into a dark closet and stay there...I still cried constantly...sometimes even DURING my walks...but I made it THROUGH. I'm still walking...and while I'm walking...I'm SMILING...and singing too!

3) Music---Music has always been a great healer for me, but for some reason this time, it brought more hurt than help. There were some songs that I had grown dependent on that I simply couldn't listen to for a very long time. So, again, one afternoon during naptime, I went out to the patio with my laptop and a couple of brand new Rick Springfield CD's. I figured, if that boy couldn't help I might as well give it up. I was right. I reopened my heart to someone who has been writing perfect lyrics for years...and he's still doing it. Once I let him in, a rush of others followed. My MP3 player is now loaded with, of course, my two Steves, RS and 3 Doors Down just to name a few. And yes, some nights when I'm walking? I am singing...loudly...and no...I DON'T care if the people sitting on their front porches or working on their cars or sweeping their driveways hear. I don't even care if they look at me funny. You know what I do? I wave at them. Oh yeah...and I smile! ; )

4) Bed---Yes folks. There was more than one time during this time period when I would look at the clock and say OUT LOUD, "In just 12 more hours I can go back to bed." Sad, yes, but again, something I was looking forward to. I have started going to bed an hour earlier than I used to. Yes...it helped.

5) Grant---For those of you not familiar with "my Grant" you can read that post here. My subconscious decided that I obviously needed a visit from Grant. I haven't had a dream about him well...the last one I remember was shortly after I got married. And yet, here I was, sharing a park bench with him. It was as with all the others...best friends or best siblings. He was trying to make me laugh, and succeeding as always...shoving my shoulder with his, trying to push me off the bench. Me being me? Doing the same thing back. It was WONDERFUL and it lifted my spirits for that entire day. You know...I wonder if he has dreams about some wild haired redhead he's never met that always makes him laugh? Yeah...I'd still love to meet him in person.

6) Sitting On The Bed and Talking To God---God and I have had our ups and downs over the years. I didn't really know Him personally until, I don't know...the late 90's? There have been a lot of trust issues lately. I'm fairly certain He's glad to have me back learning what I've learned about Him. Once Claire is busy doing her thing downstairs in the mornings I head upstairs, sit on the side of the bed, and talk to God. Praying? I suppose, but not in the "conventional" sense of the word. I don't think conventional prayers use the rather colorful language I do. Again, I'd like to think that He's happy I'm turning TO Him at this point, rather than AWAY. Most mornings I cry...yes...still. Today is a day of all out happiness and peace...and I still cried this morning. Obviously, I needed to. I will continue with these morning talks for as long as He'll have me.

7) Trying Something New---For me? This means getting out of the house...by myself. You've read about the road trip. Well, I also had a girls' night out with two friends from high school that I haven't seen for almost 30 years. Yeah, I laughed myself silly that night. THANK YOU Jane and Sherri! One Sunday I meandered around Barnes & Noble by myself, sipping a peppermint hot chocolate and picking up books I'd never even THINK of reading. I bought two of them. I can't say I'd ever buy anything like that again, but I didn't HATE either one of them! HA! This one is an ongoing deal folks...I'll keep you posted.

8) Yeah...you should probably be sitting down if you aren't. And you might want to read this post if you haven't already. In that post I had said that I was done with piercings. Well...not exactly. I got two more twelve weeks ago. Oh stop it...they're all in my ears...I've got nine now. Piercings people...not ears...keep up will you? Also in that post I asked what y'all thought of tattoos.

I've been thinking long and hard about tattoos for many years...I believe that post was dated 2005? I decided long ago I wanted a saying done in Chinese characters. A couple of years ago I came up with a great idea and then chickened out. Several months ago I found a young lady online who will translate your great idea into Chinese specifically for a tattoo. Again...filed it away.

After the henna tattoo was gone...I missed it...and it had only been around for a week! The more I thought about it, the more I knew I was ready. I contacted Kathy at Chinese-Tattoos.com. After several days of working together, she told me that the idea I had really didn't translate, it was too specific, and to do it justice it would take a ridiculously long string of characters not suitable for a tattoo. She offered to refund my money as she was out of ideas. I told her to give me a few days...let me think about it...let me look around at her site which holds a WEALTH of ideas. I decided to do what I had basically done when I chose Hope and Claire's middle names. I was going to choose three characteristics that I want to display in my life...Mel's life...this Mel that I am becoming. I chose the characters, asked Kathy if I chose the correct ones...I was ok on two of them, she corrected my third. I chose font, size, placement etc. It took about two weeks via email to come up with what I was looking for. And she is an angel...I have NO problems recommending Kathy to ANYONE who would be interested in her services. She is AWESOME! Once it was finished, she emailed me the design in PDF format. I took it downtown, got a price, and an appointment for the next day.

Did it hurt? Not really. Would I do it again. In a heartbeat. These pictures were taken about a week afterwards. The ink has since gotten a lot brighter. Are y'all ok? Do you need to excuse yourselves for a bit? Get a glass of water? Dang...that Mel's gone middle age crazy or something...

So what traits did I choose? Reading vertically from left to right the characters read: courage, passion, balance.
And no...Mel hasn't gone middle age crazy...Mel is just finally learning how to LIVE.
Below is one of my newer theme songs. Yes, if you live in my neighborhood, chances are very good you've heard me belting it out once or twice.

Be blessed y'all...and don't forget to SMILE! %^ ]



Be Good To Yourself by Journey
Runnin' out of self-control
Gettin' close to an overload
Up against a no win situation
Shoulder to shoulder, push and shove
I'm hangin' up my boxin' gloves
I'm ready for a long vacation

Be good to yourself when, nobody else will
Oh be good to yourself
You're walkin' a high wire, caught in a cross fire
Oh be good to yourself

When you can't give no more
They want it all but you gotta say no
I'm turnin' off the noise that makes me crazy
Lookin' back with no regrets
To forgive is to forget
I want a little piece of mind to turn to

Be good to yourself when, nobody else will
Oh be good to yourself
You're walkin' a high wire, caught in a cross fire
Oh be good to yourself
Be good to yourself when, nobody else will

Breaking The Surface---Part Two

Ok! So as you might remember I had a wonderful road trip and everything was solved! Not. That road trip was just what I needed at the time but it solved nothing. By the end of that week I had had at least one day where I found myself prostrate on the floor, trying to pray but the only thing that was finding its way out were sobs of the gut wrenching variety. And yes, those still count as prayers...God knows better than I what those sobs mean. My girls do NOT witness these scenes. They are busy downstairs emptying every single toy box, drawer, storage cube, etc. and having a righteous blast. Once they are busy I go upstairs to my room, sit on the side of the bed, and talk to God. That is when the tears appear. I'll talk more about that topic in a future post.

Before I go on, let me clarify something. I LOVE my children, BOTH of them. I do NOT want to LEAVE my children...or send them back to China...or make them disappear...or any one of several other ridiculous ideas. That is NOT what this is about. This is about Mel. I already know Mama. I'm well acquainted with her. "She" is the way I'm wired. I'm an empath...a nurturer...a Mama. If there's something wrong, I want to help you take care of it. I want to make you feel better. So maybe what this is all about, is turning Mama loose on Mel. Mel needs to figure out, discover, create the person she wants and needs to be.

So the aforementioned friend...the one who talks me down from my ledges? This person allows me to ramble at will via email. Did I mention said friend is sooo going to heaven? Whenever something is bothering me...confusing me...making me smile...pissing me off...I ramble...and send it off. Besides having a "Living Journal" to share all of this with, I've also got a treasure trove of blog entries just waiting for me to cut, paste, and edit.

The following is a portion of a ramble written the Thursday before Hope's first full day of school...which coincidentally was the day God had to decipher those sobs of mine:

"My heart is crushing dealing with the thought of my baby being gone from me all day on Monday. The fear isn’t that she’s not going to come back. The fear is losing a huge chunk of her…she’s going to have 8 hours a day that don’t involve me. She’s going to have an entire life apart from me at age 6…where Mama Bear can’t be there to protect her from the hurt and the fear and the evil. I was snuggled up to her, reading her a story this afternoon and it just smacked me right between the eyes. This “thing” that I’ve been doing…this routine…this reading to her in the afternoons since she was 11 months old…will be over tomorrow. And yes, I’ll still read to her...but it’s just the saying goodbye. Like when she lost her first teeth…they were the same two teeth she had when she was handed to me.

When I finished reading to her I told her I’d miss her on Monday. She’s amazingly strong that kid…GOD I love her. She won’t cry unless something is absolutely killing her. She reached up and wiped away a tear, never admitting that she was crying, and asked, “Mama…I’m going to be gone all day. Are you going to be ok?” Then she did something she’s never done…ever. She crawled over and draped herself over me for a hug. The kid isn’t affectionate…never has been. I held onto her for dear life and let my tears flow for both of us. I told her I’d be fine…I’d miss her but I’d be waiting for her at the bus stop with Claire when she got home. We talked about all the fun things she’s going to experience in first grade. She pulled back…ground another tear away with her fist and said, “But Mama…if I’m gone all day…how am I going to remember you?” That one just about tore my heart out by the roots. I have worked very, VERY hard…maybe too hard…to make my girls strong, and confident, and independent. I worry about leaving them without a mother…again. So we talked about what Mama smells like…and looks like…and sounds like…and dresses like…and how she can think of those things when she’s gone. She sat there for the longest time…her face not two inches from mine…staring into my eyes…trying to decide what color they are so she could remember. Again…I LOVE that kid."

The next installation is from Monday, her first day. I just reread it...and yes, it's only been three weeks, but all the feelings just rose to the surface again. The thing is...now? I'm able to let them rise to the surface, deal with them, and move on. No more denying they exist...no more pushing them back down:

"This day has already kicked my butt. I didn’t sleep last night. I think I saw every 40 minutes from 10:45 until 6:15. Had both girls ready with time to spare…took the first day pictures…put the “Mama loves you” notes in Hope’s lunchbox and her school box. Talked to her about a bunch of stuff and tried my hardest NOT to cry in front of her. She asked me several times again if I was going to be ok without her all day. I did just fine until the bus was pulling away. She was waving up a storm at me…and her mouth was smiling…but her eyes weren’t…her eyes showed fear. And I *KNEW* she was going to be fine once she got to school…but that one just about killed me. Made it until, I don’t know…10:30 until the big tears came. Let Claire watch tv…I went up to my bedroom and let them out. Was in Hope’s bedroom twice before noon…just to “smell” her. Got a few things accomplished that didn’t really keep my mind off of anything. Lunch was killer. Opening the fridge and seeing her milk in there from breakfast this morning…only having to get lunch ready for one…her place empty at the table. Claire upset and telling me we had to go wait for the bus (like we did when Hope was in Kindergarten) before we could have lunch. After lunch…same thing…only one to make sure she brushes her teeth…one story to read…one monitor to bring downstairs. More big tears after that."

And that day just got better...yeah...right. I had Claire up from nap and we were waiting for the bus at least 20 minutes before it was due. It was the first day, I knew it was going to be late. I didn't care. When it finally came up the hill I could exhale again...and let loose of the picture in my mind of me running after the bus, ripping the door from its hinges, and grabbing my frightened child from her seat. The bus stopped, four of the five children who were supposed to get off got off. The door closed and the bus started moving...and Hope was nowhere to be seen. I waved at the driver and mouthed, "Hope?" She stopped, looked behind her, smiled, then got on the radio and got Hope's attention. One thing I had neglected to tell her? Only the Kindergarten bus drops you off at your own house. NOW you have to get on AND off at the bus stop. I breathed another huge sigh of relief, squeezed the breath out of my oldest child, and walked home.

Things went progressively downhill that week. I had at least two days worth of wordless prayer. I don't think I can say it any better than I already have:

"This week bit. Flat out blew…dare I say sucked ass. Fear and anger and depression the likes I’ve never seen…nor do I want to again. At least earlier this month I’d have a moderately up day or just a stasis day in between. Not so this week…one black hole after the other. Hope comes home insane or exhausted or both. The school/teacher sends home things that need to be done immediately with no instructions. I read through everything…look at her website…look at the school’s website. Nothing. So finally I email her and ask her. Nope…nothing is published anywhere…but what a good idea! She gave me the info I needed and then also added, “I don’t know why they don’t send that information out to the first grade parents.” Yeah…me either. This morning Hope was in tears…SHE’S deconstructing now. She was clinging to me…and remember…this is the kid who is NOT affectionate…and crying, “Mama I miss you too much! I’m at school more than I’m at home!” ::sigh::"

After three weeks she still tells me every day that she misses me too much. I miss her too. So does Claire. But we're adjusting. She loves school and all of her teachers. She thinks being able to buy her lunch is beyond awesome. Recess is still tops on her list followed closely by Gym...although she's talked a lot about Music lately too.

Right now I'm working on a winning streak. I've had at least 12 days that I consider GOOD in a row. Not just baseline days either...there have been a lot of them in there that were downright wonderful...filled with sunshine, giggles, and utter silliness. Today I am feeling blue. But that's all it is...just blue. I'm not sad...nor depressed...nor angry. I think it has a great deal to do with the fact that today is the anniversary of 9/11.

Will I plunge again? I don't know. Do any of us know, really, what our emotions are going to do from second to second, let alone day to day? I fully expect to drop, yes. But I'd like to think it won't be as far, or last as long. But again, how can I know? I will continue to deal with each day as it comes. Some go in the win column, some don't. But so far? He's still letting me get up and try it again the next day.

Blessings y'all,

Becoming...

Sooo...if you read my last post, you know I'm going THROUGH. One of my favorite Joyce Meyer messages is "the only way OUT is THROUGH". And believe me friends...I want out...I want faarrrrr out...I want shot from a cannon out.

I suppose I've come to that point in my life, that so many women before me have. I have absolutely not one single clue as to who Mel is. Strip away the titles...Mama...friend...wife and what do you have? I have no idea. What happened to her? Did she ever exist? Most days I feel like I am screaming into a vacuum. I am completely invisible.

I have been beyond blessed with someone who reentered my life several months ago. This amazing person opened my eyes to a lot of things. Possibly the most important is that it's time for Mel to live...and feel...and see Mel the way OTHERS see her. Very simply, put a mirror up in front of my face...my life...and made me take a good long look.

The Mel I know has lived behind walls of her own making for decades. Those walls were built for survival...if you don't feel...you don't hurt. Oh sure, the feelings were always there, but they were always controlled...metered...monitored. She is extremely weak...avoids people, and conflict, and relationships of all kind because those all, eventually, bring pain. Think beige...think wallpaper paste.

Lately I hear people describing me as intelligent, amazing, beautiful, strong, classy, sassy, creative. It boggles my mind. As the months have progressed the walls have not just been torn down, they have been obliterated. Which, I'm sure, in time I'll be able to see as a good thing. However, right now? I LONG for those walls...to run behind...and take a breather from the feelings...from this...living thing I'm supposed to be doing. Those walls held a virtual torrent of feelings...feelings that have been repressed for longer than I care to think about right now. And while I allowed the good ones to filter through during the years, and couldn't help but let some of the negative ones escape? Now? Now it is almost beyond overwhelming. It is a mind numbing, heart breaking, soul crushing flood of never ending grief. I am literally completely exhausted by 4:00 every single day. Accomplishing the simplest of tasks is like trying to reach the summit of Everest in an hour. I collapse in bed every night...and this morning I can safely say that when I got up, I couldn't even tell I had been asleep for the last 8 hours. And the depression that sets in at that time of day is horrendous.

I pulled up an article on Elizabeth Kubler Ross's stages of grief today. Wow...I hit that nail squarely on the head when I described what I was feeling as grief. I was assured that what I was feeling was ok...normal...and that it's ok to flip between said stages at will. Of course I also felt like I was smacked in the face with an ironing board when I read that this could last for months. And yet I have to keep fighting. I want to KNOW this Mel that others seem to see...to know...to embrace.

Which brings us to this time of year...my VERY favorite...please do read with heavy sarcasm.

August has always brought about it's own set of challenges...and irrational fears. August has always meant "Back To School". When I was a student I dreaded it. When I was a teacher I could barely function. And now that my girls are heading off to school? I find it almost crippling. I spoke about it last year...when Hope started Kindergarten. It is worse if that's possible this year, now that she'll be away from me all day long...and facing the distinct possibility that Claire will be in preschool two mornings a week. What I left out last year at this time was the why I feel this way. Very simply, and going with this Mel that other people see...the one who is strong enough to deal...for several years I was what would be called "inappropriately touched" by a male member of the faculty of the school I attended. I did what I had been told...reported it to my mother...my best friend. I was told by my mother that he wouldn't do something like that...he was a teacher. I was told by my best friend that she couldn't understand why he'd want to do that to me...it wasn't exactly like I was attractive or anything. He continued until *I* told him to stop. Explains a lot...doesn't it? So yeah...there it is...out for the world...or at least the few people who stumble in here to see.

My fear increases as Hope's enthusiasm for school to begin increases. She can't WAIT. And yes, I've taught her accordingly...she knows about what to do if someone touches her and she doesn't like it...she knows I will do something about it. This morning her excitement has reached fever pitch. She not only isn't listening to me anymore, she simply doesn't hear me. Claire is following her lead. I find myself repeating things over...and over...and over...with no results...ever. See? More invisiblity.

I'm afraid I've let my demons touch the lives of those I care the most about lately. I find myself repeating the same things over and over to adults now as well and I fear I am hurting you by making you think I don't trust you...or making you think I doubt what you have told me. I don't mean to push you away. I don't WANT to push you away. What I've done is gone back into survival mode. In the past that meant dealing with everything by myself...and it meant pushing people away before they could push me away. I pray that I can embrace this change and stop hurting those that mean the most to me before I lose y'all.

So what am I grieving? I suppose everything that I've ever lost...relationships...dreams...people. It's all in there. Some days it's just a dull ache that I can push through. Others, like today? My mind won't stop...and neither will the tears.

Again, I don't tell you this for kudos, or pats on the back. I do it because I have to get it OUT before it destroys me. Check the tagline...Because Blogging Is Cheaper Than Therapy. The aforementioned friend also shared a song with me that has been playing in my head just about non-stop for the last two weeks. I've spent many a very early morning lying in bed "listening" to it in my head. The lyrics can be found below...and the song can be found on my playlist at the bottom of the page.

Another pretty special friend recently compared me to a chrysalis...likening "New Mel" to the caterpillar who thought her life was over...when in fact...it was only changing into something more unbelievable, more intense, more beautiful than she could ever imagine. I am holding fast to that my friends. I am holding fast to becoming...Mel.

Be blessed y'all,

If Today Was Your Last Day

Songwriters: Kroeger, Chad

My best friend gave me the best advice

He said each day's a gift and not a given right

Leave no stone unturned, leave your fears behind

And try to take the path less traveled by

That first step you take is the longest stride

If today was your last day and tomorrow was too late

Could you say goodbye to yesterday?

Would you live each moment like your last

Leave old pictures in the past?

Donate every dime you had, if today was your last day?

What if, what if, if today was your last day?

Against the grain should be a way of life

What's worth the price is always worth the fight

Every second counts 'cause there's no second try

So live like you're never living twice

Don't take the free ride in your own life

If today was your last day and tomorrow was too late

Could you say goodbye to yesterday?

Would you live each moment like your last?

Leave old pictures in the past?

Donate every dime you had?

And would you call those friends you never see?

Reminisce old memories?

Would you forgive your enemies?

And would you find that one you're dreaming of?

Swear up and down to God above

That you'd finally fall in love if today was your last day?

If today was your last day

Would you make your mark by mending a broken heart?

You know it's never too late to shoot for the stars

Regardless of who you are

So do whatever it takes

'Cause you can't rewind a moment in this life

Let nothing stand in your way

'Cause the hands of time are never on your side

If today was your last day and tomorrow was too late

Could you say goodbye to yesterday?

Would you live each moment like your last?

Leave old pictures in the past?

Donate every dime you had?

And would you call those friends you never see?

Reminisce old memories?

Would you forgive your enemies?

And would you find that one you're dreaming of

Swear up and down to God above

That you'd finally fall in love if today was your last day?

© ARM YOUR DILLO PUBLISHING INC; WARNER-TAMERLANE PUBLISHING CORP;