Hiatus

This will likely be my last post for a while and maybe forever. 

Something happened two weeks ago that was a blow I was expecting, but never realized how much it would turn me upside down.

Up until recently, I had an on and off again relationship with my youngest brother and his family. It was my last and only connection. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't even good most of the time. But, it was all I had. Even when it was bad, there was hope. 

When my brother and I spent face to face time together, it was really good with a one time exception. That gave me hope. That kept me connected. That kept me from feeling completely alone. 

My mom hung up on me when I told her I was being baptized and never called back. A year and two years after, I called my parents house only to be hung up on both times.

My middle brother refused phone calls and texts and social media connections. Christmas and birthday cards for him and his kids were returned. 

While I had many reasons to walk away from my toxic family, I technically never had a chance. 

The details don't really matter at this point, but I did something that upset my family. It was a victory for me to retrieve, in a legal way, items from my grandpa. I bought, paid for, traveled to Kansas and brought home some items that had great significance to me. Things that nobody else had wanted and the family had decided to sell to strangers in an auction. 

Again, why this upset my family is really important at this point. 

One family member decided to go on a full blown attack of me after that. Because I know the family and behavior, I know the bottom line was that I did something they disapproved of and they couldn't stop it. However, the attack was very personal. 

Another thing I got from her assault was that some of the family truly has no clue why I am estranged. Not only that, but there is a lack of desire to fully understand. There are ideas and rumors and bad information. What was very clear was that in all that, I was not going to be given an opportunity to explain, defend myself or clear up misinformation. 

The clearest message was that the relationship I had with my youngest brother is now over. The hope is gone. 

While I understand her assault was more about her insecurities and faults, I have been crushed.

It wasn't her insults and attack. It wasn't what she said, which amounted to mostly opinion about my mental status and less about facts. It wasn't that she couldn't really tell me what would make the situation improve or what she wanted. It wasn't that she was making a solid case for it being safer for me to keep my distance. It wasn't the insanely rude things she said or her questioning my christianity.

It was the idea and claim that I was incapable of loving my niece or nephew or anybody really. It was the thought expressed that I deserved the awful things that had happened to me. It was the words "nobody really cares." 

We parted ways. They are blocked from my life. There is relief in that. There is relief in not needing to filter what I say. There is relief in knowing there is a separation.

There is intense pain. There is an extreme grief. The grief, anger, pain, it feels like it's ripping me apart. Honestly, it's that loss of hope that I'd hung onto for 11 years. It was the tiniest of all hopes, but in a world where I already felt unwanted, it was huge for me. 

We are headed into the holidays. Some of the past 11 holiday seasons have been hard and some have gone by without deep depression. But here I am, feeling absolutely abandoned without hope of ever having a family for the first time ever. I may have felt like that in the past, but this is a reality now. 

In the quiet of my own house on a daily basis, I look around and the idea that I so much and so little overwhelms me. I have no family. I have nobody to care for me when I'm old. The giant room closes in and I fight to catch my breath. For two weeks, I've fought that gut-wrenching aloneness in a a whole new way. 

This is the kind of pain that rattles my faith. I have been through the long trials where I learned that God was the only one I could count on or that He was all I needed. But, I'm just not sure why I now have this really big hurt. Wasn't the past ones enough? It starts to make me question if I am in fact deserving of what I have gotten. 

This blog has been a place where I could put all the stuff. Good. Bad. Indifferent. It was a place where I could come and look at how much I've changed or grown. 

Now, it is just something I want to put away. I don't want it any more. I'm not sure the trials, the pain, were worth any of it. 

Bully

We traveled back to Kansas this summer while we had a lot of extra time. It was a short, but quality visit with my husbands family.

While we were there, we went to eat at a local restaurant. I saw someone there that set the wheels in motion for a solid two months of flashbacks and memories of my childhood bully.

All the media attention to bullying had already reminded me that I hated school. Kids in my school were so mean to each other. We never saw it as bullying, but "just the way kids were" back then.

For me, there was one particular boy. He lived in my neighborhood and went to school with me from Kindergarten through graduation. Unfortunately, he was also in my class most of the time.

He was the class clown. Small in stature, he always had to have attention. He was well loved. I believe he still is. I know he is thought highly of in our home town and is a christian, family man.

But there was a time when he was my school day nightmare.

In kindergarten, he exposed himself multiple times on the playground. Good grief, where were my teachers!?! It didn't stop.

He was the one to always draw attention to me if something were out of sorts. I had bruises from home, he pointed them out and made a joke of it. I had stained or ripped clothes, he had the entire class laughing at me.

In junior high, he named my breasts. I wish that was all he had done. I was tall, he was short. He taunted, teased, touched and tortured me with humiliation as he ran around gym classes smacking me in the chest. It wasn't once or twice, it was daily. In high school, he continued the physical assault any chance he got. He shamed me in front of classmates for how I looked or dressed. He perpetuated and started rumors about me.

Honestly, I have no idea why. I also know I wasn't his only target. He picked on anyone he saw as weaker than himself.

He saw my dad beat me. He knew that my home life was awful. In his own weird way, he used to "protect" me by walking me home from school everyday. But at school, he was completely opposite.

When I saw him in July, I lost my appetite. I've had a flood of memories about him. My 25th class reunion in this weekend. I just found out about it. I don't think I would have gone anyway. I don't really have friends from my class, but I wouldn't want to see this guy again.

College Back Then

It has been a crazy five months and I'll have to detail all that later. There are a few things triggering me on a daily basis and I feel like I need to put it somewhere instead of letting it swirl in my head.

I am getting ready to pay off my student loan from 2015. In 2014, I had some big revelation that I'm not sure I truly understood or maybe I just wasn't ready for it.

After going through some really tough stuff, I let someone convince me that my purpose in life was to help others who have been through tough stuff. I needed something in my life at the time. I was looking for purpose. It seemed like I was reading it all right. The thing about listening to someone else's plan for your life is that it might not actually be the right plan for your life. It wasn't mine.

I enrolled at Liberty University pursuing a degree in christian counseling. I took a semester of classes. That semester and two more full of psych classes were all I needed to have a christian counseling degree.

Something I learned during that was that I wasn't ready for classes. My PTSD set me up for extreme stress and painful crashes when I put high pressure on myself to succeed. I aced the semester, but by the time it was over I was a hot mess. I was having anxiety attacks multiple times per day. After a lot of soul searching and discussion with my husband, school was not going to work for me. It was too much pressure and my PTSD made it nearly impossible to balance.

The other thing I learned was that the complexity of my trauma has and will continue to make it impossible for me to sit face to face and listen to others' trauma. Being a counselor was not the plan for my life.

Several months ago, I had someone ask me why I didn't finish college the first time I started.

That started a lot of questioning and thinking and even memories. Fast forward to the past week of going through some old paperwork and a variety of other triggers.

Going to college the first time was no simple task. I had excellent grades in high school and that led to a variety of scholarships. My major was journalism and it was an area I excelled. I had been accepted to a handful of community colleges and universities. I could have gone just about anywhere with my grades and ACT score.

Shortly after my high school graduation, I moved out of my house. I had three jobs and could fully support myself. I could not stay there. I had committed to two years at the local community college and then had planned to head to KSU to finish.

I had good grades in my first year of college. I was active in the journalism program.

Here's the problem...

I couldn't leave. I still had what I felt was a responsibility to my younger brothers. I was still supporting them financially. I was still bailing them out of tough spots. I was still there when they needed me. I was still around to make sure they survived home. I gave them places to hide after they got into fist fights with my dad.

After a year in school, I took an additional job and never went back to school. All my time was spent working and still living in the dysfunction of my original home. I was trapped in this crazy life.

It was impossible to move into adulthood fully and succeed with college.

I have a sense of anger and frustration. I should have finished college years ago. I had a bright future ahead of me, but a dark past that wouldn't let go of me.

Honestly, I am not sure the dark past ever lets go. It's more of a fight to get away from it.

Number 43

This year's birthday turned out absolutely perfect.

I had thought it would be a bust. There was a period of high emotion leading up to it in regards to family. But then my husband made it perfect, unlike he'd ever done before.

The night before he asked if I had any plans. I didn't. Of course I didn't. I don't know many people and those people would have no clue it was my birthday.

The morning of, I was washing my face and trying to get ready for his MRI. He had a back MRI at 7:30 that morning. I told him I was going to come back home and go back to sleep.

That's when he surprised me. He told me that he didn't want me to spend my birthday alone, so he had taken the day off. It shocked me. He hadn't mentioned it or even suggested it. I hadn't suggested it either. It's something he's never done and I've never asked him to do.

So, we loaded the dogs up and headed to the hospital. I hung out with the pups while he had his test. Something amazing happened during that time, but that's another post for another time.

Afterward, we headed toward Indianapolis.

It was a day of exploring one small section of Indy. We went to this special bakery. We got treats to bring home that were simply exquisite. From there, we went to a unique candle shop. By then, it was lunch time. We headed to Mimi's Blue Meatball. Oh my word! Those were some delicious meatballs.

We drove around some and headed home. We stopped at got flowers to plant at a local, small nursery.

After we got home, I snuck in a nap. We tried a new place in our town for dinner.

It was overall an amazing day. Simple, surprising and perfect.

A State of Prepping

We have felt settled here for a while, like it is our home. It probably becomes more so with each passing day and week and month. This month, though, feels unsettled. We are prepping. And, what feels like a constant state of prepping.

Our agents have gotten involved in the issues with our house. This may or may not work. It is the last effort before going into a legal battle with the builder. There was a feeling of validation as they walked through our home and repeatedly let us know that the things which concerned us were indeed unacceptable in a new home. With that said, we know one of two things will happen. We will need to prepare mentally and physically for the challenges that will come with having our home under construction. None of the things that are wrong with the home will be easy. They are huge. Doors and windows and floors being torn out and replaced, siding being torn off and concrete being busted up. It will be a mess. If the builder fails to follow through on his workmanship warranty contract, then we will have to be prepared mentally for the challenges that come with going to court. Either way, we have to prep for this.

Before a lot of life got crazier than normal, we planned a spring vacation. We are headed to Florida at the end of next week. That will be a great time of relaxing. We've been before so we know the things we want to do and will have plenty of time to just soak up the sun on the beach. But as relaxing as it will be, there is prepping to do. That falls on me. Except my husband's clothes, I pack and plan everything.

I pack for the dogs. That means, I also schedule groomings and shots and everything else they need before we go. I pack. I pack special foods, medications, toys, bones, cages and anything else that might be needed for a 10 day trip. They get their own bag.

I have to plan for the long car ride, snacks and if we will break the trip up. It is a straight through 12 hour trip. We are not doing that all in one day.

After several trips, I have learned to embrace this as my vacation too. That means, I don't plan to cook. We might buy some breakfast items or fruit for the house, but I'm not cooking. I want to enjoy meals while I'm away. It is cheaper to cook a few meals. However, I've also learned we end up with a lot of leftovers. We make a few meals out of that and save money that way.

One week after we return from vacation, Kent will be having major back surgery. I feel like this is the biggest thing we are prepping for right now. His surgery will last 90 minutes to 6 hours depending on what they have to do. It is a fluid situation for the surgeon. Removing bone may make his spine too loose and they may need to fuse some of his discs together. He also has another nerve issue that he's just not sure how he will fix until he gets into surgery.

My first stage of prep is making sure everything is ok on surgery day and the day after. We have four dogs. They have to be taken care of so that I can focus on Kent. He will be in the hospital 1-2 nights depending on surgery and recovery. That's a long time to need help and we just don't know many people here. I have pieced together some help, but I'm still not sure how it's going to work.

Then I have the 6-8 weeks he will be home recovering. What all does he do that he won't be able to do? All of it! I'll have to mow, but thankfully we don't have much grass. I'll have to drive everywhere. I'll have to manage his needs and appointments, which will include follow up and therapy. I have to plan for things like heavy lifting, salt bags, mulch bags, etc. Not to mention, just the everyday stuff that he helps with around the house, will all fall on me for two months or longer. He will be off 6-8 weeks, but his restrictions will last for a few months. Needless to say, there's a lot of prepping as well as mentally prepping for all the things I didn't think of before hand.

I know this is a season. It's a season that will pass like all the others similar in the past. It is a little anxiety provoking. But, I know once this season has past, it will be good. I'll have more to say about that soon.

The Stages of Grief in Church

We have been in Indiana five months now. Since things have settled a bit, I think some emotional stuff has snuck up on me. We do live in a bigger town, but it is by no means a large city. I can tell they have moved toward upgrading their healthcare system with a new hospital with a lot of clinics related to the the hospital group. In doing so, they have attracted a lot of specialty offices and mental healthcare is one of those. We also have really good insurance now, so just about everyone takes our insurance.

Here is the problem I am facing. This town is high poverty, high drug use and high mental illness. That means, it is a high medicaid use area. In the push to decrease drug use with the opioid crisis, most mental healthcare providers accept medicaid and their schedules are jam packed for months.

The other part of the problem is me. When I find a provider with openings, I am told that my case is too complex for the available providers. Complex in diagnosis and severity of my trauma. I am a high liability case for most providers and they just don't want to jump into that.

So, I'm going to try to do my best to process the nagging things that have been bringing me down lately.

We (really me) have taken a hiatus from church hunting. There is the fact that the sheer exhaustion of church hunting so many times in the past four years has gotten to me. Then there is seeing the ugliness of churches when you are a first time visitor. Don't get me wrong, some do this very well. But, the truth is most don't. Most of the time visitors aren't very well received. I have a theory about this. Going to church is not a priority for some and think this is an increasing problem. When your regular members only go a couple times a year, you never really know who is a visitor and who is a member who is never there.

Anyway, now that my husband is pushing to go back to church, I have been forced to face my feelings about why I don't want any part of it. I honestly think it is because I am still in the stages of grief over leaving our very first church.

I have been through denial, when we knew we needed to leave and stayed a few extra months. I have been through anger. Lots of it. In a weird way, I've been through bargaining. "If we go here, I'll be happy because it's not the other place."

Honestly, I have lived in acceptance for a while now. I am happy for that church. They appear to be thriving and the people there still love it. I think God wants strong, thriving churches. I have accepted that we didn't belong there. It was right for a time, but God was right to move us on from there.

Someone told me once that a church split was like a divorce. I can see that. I saw a lot of my friends handle it that way. For me, it felt more like a war. Both sides passionately stood their ground, staking claim to certain people as other friends left. I know that's a bit dramatic, but it's what it was like for me as I watched the conflicted people around me. By the way, it's a war nobody wins.

When I went through my stages of grief, I was mostly far, far away from the church. I was going through a sadness of relationships falling apart. I blamed it all on that. I think that allowed me to skip over the depression or sadness part. I may have briefly stepped through that stage, but nothing like now.

I am sad. I'm not sad about the church. I meant what I said, I'm happy for them. I am sad for what I lost.

In leaving the church and struggling through my strong emotions, I lost a lot of friends. Sure, I made mistakes. I was an immature Christian going through something very painful in the church. I am positive that I did or said things that pissed people off. Nobody confronted me. Nobody corrected me. It was very much as if they just stopped caring and couldn't be rid of me fast enough.

That might not be what happened, but it was my perception. You know what else never happened? Grace, forgiveness, understanding, loving...

That's the part causing my sadness. I'm not talking about people who were acquaintances. I mean people who walked through dark days with me. People who we spent a great deal of time with over several years. People we did intimate bible study with at the church. People we sat with in small groups. People who knew us, knew our hearts and history. We lived life with these people as our family for over five years.

It is crazy because it's not even only people who stayed at the church. Relationships fell apart with people who left because we left at different times or for different reasons.

It's very hard for me still today when someone I considered to be like a brother or sister has zero to do with me. It also make social media a nightmare.

I'm not sure what it takes for this stage to go away. While church affiliation should not determine relationships, it really has. So, I can't see those friendships changing at this point. I'm ready for it to be over though. Now! It's such a deep sadness, grieving, mourning.

No doubt, this experience has grown me and stretched me in so many ways. I'm not sure I would ever wish for it to not have happened. But, this loss lingers still. It sits in my heart. It's part of the wall that prevents me from wanting to get involved with another church.

It's April Already?

I can't believe another month has just flown by so fast.

Several important things took place in the past 30-45 days.

We took our first weekend get away trip to Tennessee at the beginning of March. I am so glad we did. It was a much needed time away. We shared it with friends who were going through some high stress with house selling and buying. We did have one hiccup of having sick dogs from a new food. They typically don't have problems with food switches that are short term. However, we dealt with lots and lots of pooping and puking for about a week.

Earlier in the month, my only living grandpa had a heart attack. He ended up having six bypasses and is currently doing well at home. He had a great recovery. That probably deserves a post all of it's own because there was a lot of stuff that came out of that time and communicating with secondary family members.

I continue to not have any contact with my family. That too deserves a post of it's own. I see through social media that my nephew is getting ready to graduate and head to college. I also have a niece who should be doing the same, but I don't really know.

We finally, just last week, finalized our settlement with the moving company. What a mess! That's about all I can say. We've never had a flawless move and don't believe that ever happens. But this one, it has been the worst. Our settlement was nearly $5000 and there weren't too many items over $40 that were a complete loss. That's kind of an indication of just how much stuff was damaged. Lots! I should probably write a post about all the things to do and not do in a move and how to handle the damage claim part of it.

We continue to fight with the builder over our fireplace. It still isn't right. Sadly, it's probably 7-8 on the list of major things wrong with the house. We still have to deal with everything else in due time. It doesn't look like the grass is coming in very well either, although we are still very much in winter. Our back yard is a constant mud puddle and thus, so is our house. The dogs just bring so much in! The builder has made it to where water run off and rain from every house on our block runs right into our back yard. Ugh! We will be getting a professional in soon to lay some rock paths to allow the water flow without it just being a muddy river. I'm not sure we would ever want to buy a brand new house again.

This past weekend was Easter. We spent most of the long weekend on the go. It was all good though. It was great to have the time together. We visited a church yesterday where the pastor was awesome, but the drive distance is not. Church hasn't been high on my priority list, but again, that's probably another post all of it's own.

February Life

Things have been unusually busy for me the past month. There wasn't anything particular that stood out as taking a lot of energy, but it was a general state of busyness.

Each time someone asks if we are settled, I say yes. However, there's this feeling each month that we are more settled than the previous month. I would say this month has been no exception.

We did have our first visitors. One of our friends came out for a long weekend with her dogs. We went to Cincinnati for shopping and pizza. The next day, we went to a gun show. Her first time. It kind of sucked compared to other shows we have attended. It was dreary and wet, so we spent most of the weekend at the house. We baked and cooked. It was a great weekend and I can't wait for it to happen again.

We have done a lot of stuff lately. Kent installed new toilets. Our were new, but they were short and small, even below standard size. He put in tall ones that are way more comfortable.

There wasn't a lot going on for Valentines Day. We got each other small gifts and went out for a quiet dinner at McAlisters. Funny enough, we also went toilet shopping/buying that evening.

We are still fighting with our builder over some of the issues with the house. We still do not have a working fireplace. It is 70 degrees today. My excitement over a fireplace has long faded at this point. The builder and I had a heated exchange two weeks ago and oddly enough, I figured out that he is triggering my ptsd and anxiety. He is a very rude man who talks to me horribly, treats me as if I am dumb. Not a good combo for me. I am hoping that once we pass this point of having to have contact with him weekly, that my anxiety will decrease.

There are a couple things sliding into our lives that we really weren't ready for, but will have to face head on.

My husband has started the process of finding a surgeon for his back. He has needed surgery for three years or more. The pain has reached an unbearable level and he is never not in pain. In fact, he is tired a lot because he cannot get comfortable to sleep at night. The timing isn't great with just starting his job, but his insurance is about the best it has been in ten years. Doctors around here will not see a new patient without a referral from another doctor, so we are waiting for all the pieces to fall into place. I look for him to have surgery within the next couple months.

I learned this week that my last living grandpa had a heart attack and will be having bypass surgery this week. Of course I got that information from an aunt because my brother still has not had contact with me since he jacked me around with my other grandpa's death. Sad. Sad. Sad. The ordeal with this grandpa has made me think about health and heredity, tracing family history of heart disease. My dad and his brothers are all mid 50s - 60s. None of them have any heart health issues, at least not yet and not diagnosed. My grandma has had heart surgery, but her problems were all congenital. It appears that years of eating my grandmas cooking could have led to my grandpas current issues. He had nine siblings and only one of them had heart health issues.

The issues with my grandpa led to some honest discussion with one of my cousins. She is the only other christian in my entire family on either side. We are about 10-12 years apart in age, so I didn't have a previous relationship with her. Some conversation with her has been enlightening.

My dad's family at one time was all Jewish. Now, my grandparents, dad and uncles are all atheists. I find that incredibly interesting. To be clear, my dad is evil. His brothers are not. They are average men who have taken care of their families. Outside of one cousin who has battled substance abuse, all of their children are very normal.

Because I feel a greater sense of ease sharing my story lately, I was able to be honest with my cousin about some of life with my parents. I didn't share a lot. In fact, I apologized for what I did tell her. Everyone has this idea of what and who my parents are and I have never shared any different with family members. Partially because one time I tried and my aunt shut me down, claiming that he was a good man. It was a bit freeing. I knew that at least one person on that side of the family knew that I didn't walk away from my family over religion or because I believed myself to be better than them. She said she actually believed it was a religious issue and nothing else.

Interestingly enough, she shared that in high school when she was punished, she was grounded from church. I find it incredibly interesting. I was punished for going to church. Taking church away was her punishment at times. It speaks to this entire family's lack of respect for church and God. I swear our family would be an excellent case study in so many ways.

Mental Wellness

Mental health is in the news more now than ever. The general population has a better (still not great) understanding of what depression is along with anxiety and PTSD. For the first time ever, I heard PTSD referred to as an illness caused by trauma and not just the "soldier's" illness.

Of course it is usually tragedy that brings discussion on mental illness. There's still stigma. There's still a huge lack of understanding and misunderstanding.

One of the things that makes me anxious when we've moved is how I will fit in with people who don't know me. That's crazy, because I fit in perfectly with people who don't know me. Too well! Nobody ever suspects there is a problem. I suppose my fear should actually come from the idea of someone getting to know me, the real me.

Before our first move nearly four years ago, I had an awesome support system. It had taken a while to get established and wasn't without trials. I had friends who knew me and loved me despite the truth of who and what I was.

When we moved to Ohio, I made the mistake of just assuming people would be just as loving and compassionate as that support system I had back home. Not so! They bristled against anyone who willingly said "I have issues." Ohio was also when my counseling stopped.

Despite the relational issues in Ohio, I had good mental health through those 2 1/2 years. I was strong, or so I thought. No, I was. Strong enough to attempt things I previously thought impossible.

I took one semester of classes online. They were hard, but passed. I succeeded and failed simultaneously. I had a successful semester and had enrolled in the next. My goal was a degree in christian counseling. Despite how well I did, I nearly had a full blown breakdown. The entire thing set my anxiety off in ways I could not control. I started not sleeping and barely making it through a day without a full blown anxiety attack.

After talking with my husband, we determined that maybe I wasn't quite ready for this type of stress. I was upset that I had failed to complete my goal, but happy that I had the energy to try. I could have chosen to not even try.

The following year, I agreed to return to work on a very part time basis. This was a disaster. It was an absolute failure. It was in a job that wasn't well defined and too many church politics. It too increased my anxiety and caused me to become more and more distant from my daily duties.

Again, after discussing with my husband, we determined it was too soon. Truthfully, it was probably a combination of wrong place and wrong timing. I was happy that I tried, but of course upset to not succeed.

The truth is that my anxiety, ptsd and other issues are a hinderance in working. I never know when they will flare up and all of those things make me unreliable and difficult.

I have been asked here if I will look for a job. Believe me, I would love to contribute to the household  income.

While we lived in KC, I got a little counseling. It was more for the trials that came with Kent's job and there was no work on any issues related to my anxiety, ptsd, etc. We didn't really have enough time to get into that during the few months of counseling.

Here, I have no counseling. We are still getting settled. I haven't even looked into what is available. This area is bigger than where we lived in Ohio, so there is a little better chance to get counseling here.

Maybe it is because our time in KC was so hard, but I didn't start out quite as well off here as I did in Ohio. It has been more difficult here. I find myself triggered a lot more here, probably backsliding a lot more.

I stay at home unless there's a reason to get out. I try not go to the grocery store without my husband. I get so overwhelmed that I hate being out alone. Honestly, if I can stay in a routine at home then I do ok. Getting out of the routine is hard and throws my day and maybe my whole week off. It isn't so much ocd, but the anxiety.

This move has been the hardest. We've had more problems with the actual move and house than in any other place. And that's saying a lot since our first move was into a house that was trashed.

So for now, there won't be a job. I'm not even looking, not interested in looking for one. I am best off at home where I have safety and my dogs to ground me.

It is interesting how some of this seems to come from flexibility and how much I have to be flexible. This move has pushed me to be flexible in a lot of ways. But, it's like I have zero flexibility left to give in other areas of my life and I have to be a little more rigid in order to maintain some stability. Although as I read that through, I realize you might have to be a professional to understand that.

All that to say, I'm trying to maintain some stability but it's been hard this time. My mental wellness has taken a hit over the past year and through this move. It might take some time to get back what I've lost.

Post Christmas 2 of 2

As I said, it was the best Christmas we've had in a long while. 

There wasn't loud, obnoxious people. 

There wasn't crazy, hard family dynamics. 

There wasn't fighting or rudeness.

There wasn't travel.

There wasn't pain.

Wait. There was pain. Grief, really.

The day was nearly perfect, but there was an unspoken, heavy grief that hung ever so lightly above us. 

We knew it was there, but we didn't talk about it and didn't let it slip into our day. Sure, it was discussed on all days surrounding Christmas. But Christmas, it was kept at bay. Maybe more so kept in our hearts and not on our tongues.

My husband missed his mother. She was the person who made his holidays special as a kid and some as an adult. He was 32 when we got married. She was his person for a lot of years before I came along. I respect that and am glad he had that. 

There's so much to be thankful for in her death. Christmas was so hard. She was forced by her husband into anxiety provoking situations. She was forced to sit and open gifts, belittled in front of the family when she couldn't remember who people were or didn't really understand how to thank someone. We had about five of those between diagnosis and death. I don't miss those at all! Honestly, Kent doesn't either. 

We didn't miss the loud, obnoxious hours of being in a room with Kent's family during gift opening. There's not one thing I enjoyed about that. I have lived through about 21 of those in the past 23 years. They suck! But, I know Kent missed it. Not the noise and all that, but the togetherness. 

For him, his grief includes the loss of his family as he has always known it to be. Last year, his family somewhat pulled their stuff together and it wasn't a total loss. This was the first year that his family literally had no family Christmas of any kind. The first time in over 50 years. That's sad and hard. It isn't likely to ever happen again either. His grief wasn't as much about not being there, but for what will never be again.

We both had an overwhelming sense of aloneness this Christmas. It has been this way for me, but felt heavier this year as we both walked this path. This was the first year EVER for both of us to spend both Thanksgiving and Christmas completely alone, with each other. We have always spent at least a portion of one of the holidays with his family and/or friends and/or both. I had to stay off social media that day. It was too hard to see everyone hopping from celebration to another and no that we were alone. 

There was a part of this that was infuriating more than painful. We spent a lot of time buying, shipping, etc. gifts for his family. His dad thanked us, but nobody else. I don't even care that they don't put that kind of effort into sending gifts to us, but good grief at least acknowledge that you received the gift. I think we are officially done buying Christmas and birthday gifts for all family and will likely ask that nobody send us anything in the future. I'm over this off and on kind of thing and value time over gifts. I would rather spend one good day with family than deal with the frustration surrounding gifts.

I mentioned in a previous post that I was feeling grief over my grandparents this year. That was certainly true for Christmas day. It was so much easier to recall all the good times. I had memories of times with them that I probably had not remembered in over 20 years. Of course there was a fair amount of grief over that. I didn't let it ruin my day or holidays, but it was a sadness unlike any I've felt. 

Of course no holiday would be complete without feeling that loss of family. That gets easier each year, but is there. 

I would not have traded this Christmas for any in the past. It was truly the best. My hope is that they only get better as these things improve over the years. 

Post Christmas 1 of 2

Oxymoron. Maybe our Christmas was an oxymoron. 

Our Christmas this year might have been one of the more difficult, but best we've had in a long while. 

We had originally planned to go to Tennessee for Christmas to avoid the tough times. In fact, we had reservations for about three weeks. After the forecast called for five straight days of rain there, we canceled the Monday before Christmas. Of course, as the day arrived, Tennessee had perfect weather with just a momentary rain on Christmas Eve.

However, the change was the best thing we could have done. 

Our weather was really iffy, cold but not sure if we would have snow. The day before Christmas Eve, it looked more and more like we might have a dusting to have a White Christmas. It was cold and snowed, but never amounted to much leading up to the holiday weekend. 

On Christmas Eve, we got up and headed to a church we had visited the week prior. It turned out to be a beautiful service that honored the birth of our Savior. Even though it was 10 am, we had a beautiful candlelight service. We drove in a brief snow shower on the way to church and the morning was perfect. 

After church, we headed to Dayton to do last minute shopping. That means, my husband did last minute Christmas shopping while the dogs and I hung out in the car and watched people act erratically. We got home in time to watch some football and Christmas Vacation. It did start snowing that afternoon/evening.

We woke up to a cold morning with about 4" of snow, a white Christmas indeed. I tried to surprise my husband with bubble bread like his mom made, but failed miserably since I was missing a key ingredient. 

We swapped gifts and gave the dogs treats out of their stocking. We changed things up a little this year with the loss of our Lucy. We decided to go down to one dog stocking and one each for us. The dogs' was a dog that shook it's ears and sang Christmas music. Remi loved it!

The dogs napped with full bellies and my husband watched tv while I started on lunch. 

I fixed a prime rib for the first time. I was a little nervous. Such an expensive cut of meat and one shot to make it right. It turned out great. I made mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, green beans, cranberry sauce and we had a cake from the local grocery store. Since the oven would be occupied by the prime rib, I decided to bail on baking a dessert. Lunch was wonderful. It was certainly better than our Golden Coral Thanksgiving lunch. 

There were naps and tv. It was an incredibly peaceful day, so relaxing. Kent talked to his dad and sister that night and we got two texts from friends. 

The day was everything I could have wanted it to be. We had a beautiful snow fall and everything we needed or wanted. 

Kent was off for four days at Christmas and four days at New Years. It was nice to have so much time with him. We also got a lot done, like getting drivers licenses and car tags transferred. It was a huge relief to get all that done before the close of the year. 

My Grief

The week before we headed out here, I lost my grandpa.  To date, I still have no clue what he died from or where his remains are. My greedy family had him cremated and he had not been buried beside my grandma as of the last time we were back in Kansas in November.

Let me start by saying, my grief is not motivated by some idea that I would have spent the holidays with him. I would not have.

My grandma died 19 years ago. I was angry for a long time. Then, the dam broke and I was angry at both of them for abuse and their inability to stop the abuse they knew was happening in my home. It took years of counseling for me to come to a place of forgiveness with both of them.

I forgave my grandpa in my heart, thinking I would never see him again. I had been told in the last few years that he had developed dementia. Even when I had the opportunity to see him, I did not.

When I went to see him in the hospital, days before he died, something happened. There is a huge difference between forgiving someone in your heart and mind and forgiving someone face to face.

In his hospital room, with my husband watching, I forgave him. I held his hand, kissed his head. I told him I was sorry he was going to die and that I forgave him. I told him that I loved him and left.

Despite the next several days of high emotion over what my family was doing, I was forever changed.

I can't really say it enough. Forgiving in person is far more powerful than forgiving a person you never see again. It is life changing.

For me, it has allowed me to release and file away the bad things that happened with my grandparents. With that, there has been a flood of memories with them. Not bad, but all good. Keep in mind, there were usually other bad memories associated with them, but they weren't related to them. Ie.being molested by a cousin at their house, abused by my dad for going to their house, etc.

One of the things my grandparents did well was celebrating Christmas. This season has brought memories of so many good times. My grandparents had a santa come to their house. They loaded us all up and took us to look at Christmas lights. They gave us very personal gifts that were usually something we really, really wanted.

Not only have I been able to enjoy those memories, I have been able to grieve them for the first time since they ended over 25 years ago. That has been really good for me. I know grief isn't typically something that is good. This is. It is good to grieve something from my childhood that I miss, something I loved. With my childhood the way it was, this is probably the only thing that was good.

This experience has allowed me to truly grieve my grandparents and the ways they were good in my life. I finally have some permanent closure in part of my life and it is good. I hate that he is gone. I believe there's a possibility he was a christian when he died. I know he had health problems that he would not recover from and he is no longer suffering with those.

There was a point when I questioned what all of this was for. I questioned why my brother made it possible to say goodbye to him but then bailed on me and still has never told me why. I questioned why they couldn't have just let me know when he died and be done with it. Obviously, I have explained the greatest reason why above. Losing him was ultimately a good gift to me. But there was something else.

As I sat crying with my husband in the car on our way to the dump one day, I got his perspective.

He shared with me what he saw that day at the hospital. He told me that he saw a strong woman who had been hurt and who walked in without any doubt and forgave the person who hurt her. He said he not only saw me forgive him, but he saw me love him. My husband who rarely shares anything from his perspective when it comes to my family and me, had seen the entire thing. He was telling me what I knew but what he saw. He said he saw in that moment someone who had maturity and love and healing.

Sometimes I think he only sees the bad stuff that I go through. I am glad he was able to see with his own eyes this experience. I think it was important for him to see that all the tears and years of counseling and fighting has brought progress. Of course we know the cost, but it isn't lost on me that without it none of this would have been possible.

Weeks later, I can certainly reflect on this and see how God uses trials for His good. Beauty from ashes. My grandpas death has brought some beautiful things along with the grief.

Christmas Blues

Christmas snuck up on me this year with the move and trying to get settled. A week ago, I hadn't bought one gift. I felt like I was doing great to have the tree up and the house decorated.

We do have the excitement of being in a new home and Kent with a new job. That's a little buffer for the normal Christmas blues. But, this year is different.

There is the usual sadness over being alone, for me especially. I can't really imagine what spending Christmas with a family is really like. I never had a normal Christmas with my family and the last one was 11 years ago. I had many Christmas's with Kent's family, but was never really a part of it.

There's a profound sadness when you look at your life and realize there is only one person who wants to be with you on Christmas. One person who loves you enough to give you a gift. One person who even knows where you are or what you are doing on Christmas. Thank God for my husband. Without him, I would have nobody.

My husband is still grieving his mother this year. This is our second year without her, but she hadn't been with us for three years before that. It was five years ago this week that I called her and she didn't know who I was. I am not sure holidays will ever get any easier for him.

I have some grief of my own this year. I'll be writing about that by itself, but the loss of my grandpa has opened the door for something I never expected.

Thanksgiving was so busy for us. We were unpacking and trying to make sense of this whirlwind move. But, Christmas will be slower and it will be tougher to be alone. At least we are settled enough that I can cook instead of head to Golden Coral.

Kent has gotten to be a part of several celebrations at work. His work is really good to him. We did get invited to a gingerbread house decorating party. It was so much fun. We've also tried to pick up a couple of the local light displays and may do somethings this weekend.

We are definitely trying to overcome the blues and make new memories. We have been working hard to fight the natural bent to just sit around and wallow in our grief and pain.

Funny Thing About Moving

Moving 3 times in 3 1/2 years has taught me a lot. One thing is that moving will show you exactly who your friends are.

About a year before our first move, I had a dear friend move. From my perspective, she was uncaring and cavalier about moving away. At that time, another friend explained to me that it is harder to be left than to leave. That was right. During our first move, I had excitement and a certain amount focus on the future. It was during that time that I really got it.

I was leaving everyone behind. I wasn't focused on them, I was focused on me and what needed to happen to make the transition. My friend who moved away wasn't uncaring or cavalier. She was focused on what needed to happen. She was moving. It wasn't that me or my feelings didn't matter, it was that at the time she needed to be focused on herself. I was the same way.

The thing I don't and never will understand is how quickly things dissolve once you do move away.

My friend who moved away and I still stay in touch. I hear from her nearly daily and she's the first person I share my life with and the person I usually ask for prayer. Since our first move, I have only one friend who's stayed in contact with me.

When I left the first time, I had a ton of friends. The first month we were gone, I got lots of texts. They eventually stopped. That first year, we had four visitors. The second year, we had three visitors. While in KC, I went months without seeing anyone. It is almost like after we moved away the first time, we were permanently forgotten.

Since we moved to Indiana, I've had one person text me. That's it. The same person from back home who's stayed in contact since the first move.

I still scratch my head. Friends of 19 years, 10 years, 8 years, 5 years and so on. Nobody bothers to contact us any more. In fact, most of the contact we make goes unanswered. It's sad. I know I didn't reconnect with too many people while we were in KC, but gosh. We literally hear from NONE of them. Even friends that were close enough to know how tough this move was going to be have abandoned us. It's painful and I fight anger.

There is a ray of sunshine in all of this. We are just under 2 hours from where we lived in Ohio. I made a friend there, really we made friends with a family there. This woman and I have stayed in touch since we moved from Ohio. She is an encouragement to me and I appreciate that she takes the time to check in on me as I try to do the same. Her and her son came to visit the day after we moved in and I can't wait for her to visit again. In fact, I look forward to being able to do things with her and her family in the future.

While I am sad that I don't mean much to many people, I am thankful that I mean something to a few people.

Here We Are

Here we are in Indiana. It has been a busy couple months and things are just now slowing down.

How did we get here?

My husband started his job in Ohio on October 23. During that time, we lived started out in an extended stay hotel. We went through a little uncertainty with the sell of our KC home. However, that got wrapped up and crazy enough, closed on the original date from our first contract. It was super fast!

Long story short, we spent two weeks in the hotel and looking at houses every chance we got. We knew that we had to be back in KC on the third week, but knew our time in extended stay was not over. We got kicked out of our hotel (crazy, crazy story with liars and crazy women) and got $1000s of unapproved charges on our credit card from the hotel. In the meantime, we had a debacle in house searches. We found a house that we liked. Got ready to put an offer on it only to find out the tax rate for Dayton and Montgomery County is outrageous. If you have a $1500 house payment, over $500 of that is taxes. No Thank You!

On Halloween, we switched agents and states. Kent's job is 10 minutes from the border of Indiana. We went on November 1st and looked at six houses. All six would have been perfectly fine. We were way happier than any of the 50 houses we had walked through in Ohio. We quickly narrowed down our options to two. One was more expensive and bigger, the other was brand new and days from being finished. After some discussion amongst agents, the family in the first house wasn't willing to move in our time frame. So, we chose the new house. Contract negotiated and accepted.

I immediately emailed the agent who helped me with pre approval on the mortgage. Two days later (it went that long because things were crazy with hotel and trip back to KC), I finally called. The agent was no longer with the company and I got transferred around to the right person. It was now November 4 at 10 pm.

After explaining the situation, I told the mortgage agent that I wanted to close on November 21 so we could be in a home before the holidays started. That was 17 days. Let me tell you, there was nobody who thought this loan could be closed out in 17 days. Too many things had to fall into place perfectly and that was still no guarantee.

I had a crazy amount of faith and calm. I never doubted. I had every document I needed and the time to call everyday for updates. I scheduled the movers to be there on November 21 and I was not letting anyone convince me this couldn't be done.

There were hurdles and bumps along the way. Nothing I could control and nothing I could fix. We had delays in getting Kent's employment verified. There was confusion over property tax because Indiana is weird with property tax. There were delays with insurance and info that wasn't provided properly. They were small, but all threatened to delay closing.

I won't lie, those small things eventually frayed my nerves. We were living in a very small room at the local Best Western. It rained non stop over those ten days. The relocation company became increasingly difficult to deal with and I was still fighting with the previous hotel on charges.

It was stressful, but things got more exciting as the day got closer. We did close on our house on November 21. It was a 17 day turn around and the fastest some of our mortgage agents had ever seen.

Our lead agent was a christian man. He did amazing things behind the scenes. Things I didn't know about until the day of close. He immediately contacted the title company and keep in constant contact with them. He did magic with our closing numbers. We went to close with less than 5% of our home cost. I still have no clue how he managed to do all that.

Moving in was no small fete in itself. It was terrible, our worst yet. I think I'll save that for another post. It took one week exactly to get completely unpacked, situated and decorated inside the house. It shouldn't have taken that long, but was a result of very poor packing.

I'll have to write another post on how surprised I am by how different this is from our Ohio experience. It has been wonderful!

Big Changes

A couple months ago, my husband got serious about finding a new job. We had a long, serious discussion about whether to stay where we were or go elsewhere. I'll spare you all the details of that conversation, but we decided fairly easily to go.

After that discussion, his first interview was in San Antonio. Ugh! My heart was no in that one. Thankfully, it did not materialize. In fact, it was a disaster. Moving on!

Part of our discussion was about where we would look. Now would be a good time to mention, we have no intentions of ever moving back to KC. That's probably another post completely. I requested a colder region.

Before we really had much of a chance to decide, he was being pursued by companies in Chicago, South Carolina, Cincinnati, Indiana, Dayton and a few others. SC, no. Chicago, no. Anything Ohio, no. Those were my thoughts and with that, my husband focused on a job in South Bend, Indiana.

He flew out, did the interview and felt great about the opportunity. A few weeks later, he got the call that he had been chosen for the job. We were excited. I cried. I was beyond happy for him. We told a handful of people. We started the process of putting our house on the market. Unfortunately, that is where the excitement ended.

Things moved so slow. It took a week and three phone calls to get an actual offer in hand. Pretty quickly, we figured out that this company was very disorganized at this facility. Calls, emails and texts to the HR guy, his new boss and others went days to weeks without being answered if at all.

In the meantime, he had a very aggressive company near Dayton, Ohio who had a very persistent recruiter. While the other company fumbled over communications, my husband scheduled and followed through on an interview.

Now, keep in mind, I hated Ohio when I left. There wasn't much I ever wanted to go back for and I was very verbal about this up to the day we left for the interview. I have one person that I still consider a friend and I fought the mere idea of going back. In fact, after the interview, my husband wanted to look at houses and I said no. I knew there was no way God would make me go back to Ohio.

He put pressure on this company because he had a deadline to accept or decline the other offer. And...they met his deadlines. He had an offer in hand by Friday of the following week. The thing was, this offer was beyond what we could have ever imagined. It was nearly 25% higher in salary and the benefits were better. After comparing, the relocation package was absolutely better.

Long story short, he asked the other company to match and they decline. So, here we are.

He will be working west of Dayton, just off I70. He started the job this past Monday and I could not be more proud of him.

I will be honest, I am in a little bit of disbelief. I NEVER wanted to come back here. I swore I would never come back unless we were passing through. I have had to a lot of soul searching, praying and being honest with myself.

I know the key is going to be my openness to make this home. We are not in the same area, in fact we are going to be no further than 20 minutes from Dayton. That is not unlike our house in KC. We were out from the city and 20-30 minutes from anything. I've had to force myself into truly letting go of some hard feelings toward people and situations. I also had to do something that should come more naturally, but I think is hard for everyone. I had to put my own feelings aside for the good of my husband. Doing so will ultimately be good for me too and our marriage, but it is so hard to do.

Now, we are almost done with our home sale in KC and we have to get busy finding a home here.

Big Loss

On October 10, I received a Facebook message that my grandpa had a stroke and was not expected to make it. The info was sketchy at best, but I was told he would be leaving the hospital on hospice. 

I have shared in my blog some of my past with this grandpa. I do have a set of living grandparents on my dads side. This was my moms dad.

There was an immediate mixed bag emotions. I wanted, needed, to see him. However, as I mentioned, the entire ordeal was sketchy. 

The person who contacted me referred to him as Carl and not my grandpa. Then, there was a lack of detail. Finally, it was made clear to me that I could not see him.

I cried and paced and couldn't sleep. At 5 am the next morning, I got a call from my brother. He was copied on the original message and I think he knew my desire to say goodbye. Although I have no idea and I'll get to why.

My husband was barely awake and I sat bawling on the side of the bed. I was conflicted. I had forgiven this man, but did I really want to see him? My husband told me to get dressed and he would take me. See, I was given this really small window of time and I had a short time to get there. Something I didn't understand at the time. 

We hopped in the car and arrived at the hospital at about 9:30. My heart pounding, I walked into his room. No family was there. Just this feeble, small man who was propped up with a pillow. He groaned and rubbed his unshaven face. His eyes were closed and I had no idea if he was aware I was there. 

I reached down and grabbed his hand. I held it tight with nothing in return. Soon, a lady came in wanting me to sign his dismissal papers. Uh, no! A nurse came in and asked if I was family. I said that I was his oldest grandchild. I lost all track of the nurse at that point.

Once my grandpa heard my voice, he grabbed my hand tight. He held it and leaned toward me. I rubbed his bald head and told him how sorry I was that he ended up like this. I looked down at him and all I felt was love. A giant, overwhelming love. After a little while longer, I told him goodbye and walked out. 

We drove around places we knew, cemeteries and spent the whole day kind of saying goodbye once again to our home towns. We had lunch with Kents dad and headed home. 

And here's where it gets really strange...

We both made several observations at the hospital. First of all, there was no hint of family or that anyone had been sitting with him. So sad. Second, he showed no signs of a stroke or that his vitals were bad, which I had been told. He had full range movement in all his limbs and no visual sign of drooping. His vitals were good. He would not open his eyes, but that could have been meds or a possible disconnect between brain and body. Third, he did not look like a man who was on deaths door. He could have been dying, yes, but he showed a lot of life. 

I later found out that there was a list of people not allowed in the room. I was on it as was his wife, but I snuck in evidently. It became clear that this was possibly being kept from other family members. On the way home, I contacted my aunt in Minnesota and my former aunt in Kansas (the mother of my cousins). They knew nothing. Strange, again, yes. 

My brother shared info with me for two days. He said my grandpa was eating, drinking and speaking. Then, the texts stopped. I know my family. I was concerned. My grandpa is wealthy and the info I was getting relayed from other people was bad. 

Over the past few years, my mom and her brother have been stealing from my grandpa. They've changed wills and legal info. Completely illegal as this man has had dementia for at least five years and is not of sound mind. Crazy stuff like my grandpas wife was afraid of my uncle and not allowed to see her own husband. That my mom and her brother were trying to get them divorced before he died. Crazy, crazy! Completely believable from people so wrapped in sin.

I had to know someone was taking care of this man. I was afraid he was checked out of the hospital to die a miserable death. I finally got some advice from a friend and called the local authorities for a welfare check and hospice confirmation. After a few hours, the cop called back to confirm that hospice is checking on him daily and he looked well. Although, he understood my concern. For what that was worth. I was content with that, but angry with my family. 

On Thursday the following week, I got a call from my aunt in Minnesota letting me know he had passed away. His death is a mystery to all of us not there. We haven't been allowed to know. 

Within a day or so, I received another call from my aunt. She had been left out of the obituary. Also, he was cremated and there would be a private funeral for family. None of us were given the details of that funeral. We were told no funeral.

By the way, my brother never has contacted me to let me know my grandpa passed away. I still do not understand this. In all that I had going on in life, I am not sure why anyone would choose now to mess with me emotionally. 

There's so much I could say about the detail of all this and my absolutely horrid family. It's just not worth it.

What I do want to do is remember the man I said goodbye to two weeks ago. 

I was the first grandchild. I have pictures where everyone looks happy, smiling. It was a simple time before things got complicated. 

There were good times, good memories. My grandpa used to grab me as a little girl at the end of the day and rub my cheek with his whiskers. I loved it and rubbing my hands on his face. He used to walk me through the strawberry patch and let me eat handfuls, even though I was mildly allergic to them. 

When I was a year old, my grandpa had a terrible accident. A piece of wood broke on his lathe and went into his eye. He lost his eye. During that time, he could not eat solid foods. My grandma would blend his food and mine too. I never ate store bought baby food. Mine was all homemade. 

Through the years, he was the financial support for my grandma. She was the one who let me live with them twice and paid for our wedding. 

I had not seen my grandpa in many years. It was too hard to see him and not be around the rest of my family. A lot of the last several years, he wouldn't have known who I was. He also remarried soon after my grandma died 19 years ago. His new wife was a lovely person, but the changes she made to his life were too much to process.

This entire ordeal will remain a mystery to me, although I believe it has to do with greed and money. It has cemented in me that I am better off away from these people.

I have no idea what my grandpas belief system was when he passed away. I hope he was a christian, but I have no clue. 

Big Trips, Big Loss, Big Changes

So much has happened since my last post. Literally, life changed within a couple days of when I wrote. I want to write about each one.

Big trips, we took a trip to Yellowstone. I'll get to that today. Big loss, my grandpa. Big changes, moving again.

I'll get to the big change that led to the big trip later. However, we were certain that once my husband gave his notice, they would not allow him to take his last week of vacation or pay him for it. With that in mind and his approaching termination notice, we decided to take a vacation. It wasn't really planned. It was last minute.

We went back and forth.

Should we head to the beach? The closest was Galveston. We've been there so much, plus we weren't thrilled with traveling through hurricane ravaged Houston to get there. We also enjoy Florida so much more because the beaches are nicer.

Should we head to the mountains again? We are always up for mountains, but just went in April. It wasn't off the table.

We decided going east wasn't an option since we were getting ready to move east.

What we wanted was to go somewhere new. It's the explorer in us.

With very little planning, we packed up all four dogs and headed to Yellowstone.

We started with a short trip to Omaha/Iowa. We left after work on a Friday so we could have the house on the market with no scheduling issues. It was a nice hotel in a very weird area of industry.

Next was a full day of driving to Rapid City, SD. We checked into our hotel, which to our surprise was attached to a water park. Never again! We had been to Mount Rushmore and were certain that not much had changed. However, a trip to the website we found that they were open at night and had a lighting and closing ceremony.

After a little rest, we headed out to Rushmore. We got there just in time to see the lighting ceremony. There was a giant video playing. Then, they honored those who served and retired the flag. It was the last time for the season to retire the flag. The ceremony was absolutely moving. Given the political and social climate, it was humbling to see everyone honoring our flag, anthem and soldiers. I cried. Sobbed like a baby. Then they flipped the lights on Rushmore. It was beautiful. It isn't well lit, but you see all you need.

When we were done, we headed to a firefighter themed restaurant and the food was great.

The next day, we headed to Cody, WY. We started seeing animals. Elk, deer and a ton of antelope. We took a route through the mountains. It snowed and was amazing. Finally, right at dusk, we got to our cabin. It was truly a cabin at the base of a mountain. It snowed a couple inches that night and was like a winter wonderland the next morning. The dogs were not impressed with the snow or 25 degrees since we had left nearly 90 degree temps.

From there, we drove to the north entrance to Yellowstone in Montana. I am so glad we did. Again, snow, mountains, animals and beauty.

Our first stop in the park was a basin of geysers. It was so cool and so stinky. The sulfur smell was terrible. Probably the best part, our phones had no service and it we could truly enjoy our time. Our first day also included watching Old Faithful and a ton of animals. The best was a black bear that was only about 10 feet away. I got some amazing pics. At one point, Remi went nuts over the bear and the bear looked right at me. I got right back in the car.

We got to the west entrance and stayed all night in a complete dive in West Yellowstone, MT. It was so cold and spit snow a lot. That morning, we had fun chasing Remi who escaped and decided to run free in 20 degrees. We had the best breakfast at a little diner in town and headed back to the park.

We drove through the rest of the park, including heading back to Old Faithful. Some of the park was closed for the season and another part was closed for construction. We didn't feel slighted at all. The park wasn't busy and we didn't feel rushed or stuck in traffic.

Our second day, we saw more wildlife including a grizzly bear. It was huge and about 50 yards from the road. There were about a dozen park rangers making sure nobody got any closer to it. We saw so many animals. Bears, elk, deer, antelope, prairie dogs, chipmunks, moose, birds, rabbits, quail, pheasants, and I am sure more I have forgotten to list.

We left through the south entrance and traveled along the Grand Tetons. They were absolutely beautiful and kissed with fresh snow. That is where we saw the Moose. They were huge. There is no  mistaking them for any other animal.

We drove to the southeast corner of Wyoming and stayed all night. The next day, we drove through Estes Park for fun. It was packed full of people and there were no places to stay. We ended up in Colorado Springs for three days to relax from our long drive. We were at 3500 miles by then and tired. Colorado Springs was beautiful. We ate good food and enjoyed the mountains. We even took a drive over to Cripple Creek.

Our trip home was uneventful. We stayed in central Kansas for the night and was home by lunch on Sunday.

It was the longest trip we've ever taken and probably the most beautiful. We had a great time, laughing. We did have the stress of handling house contracts, work contracts, planning our move, et. But it was worth every second.

Settled, for a moment...

We have chosen to continue attending church at the Valley Campus, the satellite campus of First Baptist Blue Springs or First as they are calling themselves.

There were a couple places we could have settled on, but felt the proximity to our home and getting to know people in our community was ultimately an important factor that we could not ignore.

A couple things about this...

I say settled for the moment, because we honestly don't know for how long. My husband is interviewing all over the US for jobs and we are perfectly content to move again. So, this maybe a temporary church home or one a bit more long term. We just aren't sure at the moment. Either way, we feel it is where we are to be at this time.

Finding a church has found different this time. When we chose a church on two other occasions, there was an excitement that came with it. A natural excitement for what was to come and the potential. This time, it feels more like a "yea we are here, preach to me so I can go home." That isn't a reflection of the church, but of me and my heart.

I have really had to admit that the time at our church in Ohio really broke me. Between that and this last move/Kent's job, I have had to admit that my faith has slipped away. Slowly. I didn't really know it. I think I knew if I said I believed God had a plan confidently that I would convince everyone my faith was strong, even me. It worked. I did.

The truth is that it's been slipping away for over a year. I was confident this time last year that I had a strong faith and followed God as faithfully as I could. But, everything started to unravel. My husband was hurting. We fell away from church. We became isolated from friends and family. At each one of those things, I can see how we distanced ourselves from God as well.

I haven't really wanted God. Sure, I pray. But, only for things that I want and need. It's no longer a relationship like I had through most of our time in Ohio. I haven't opened my bible since July 2016. I haven't been brought to my knees in praise or need since June 2016. I haven't desired to truly be around other believers since April 2016.

Fraud. That's what I have felt like for over a year. When people ask me to pray or I know someone is hurting, sure I pray. But, I don't give it all of me like I once did. When someone comes to me for advice, I hate hearing that I am wise or...ugh...godly. I am NOT! I am wicked and sinful and running.

Only since we have been attending these group of campuses have I started to own up to where my faith is currently. It's the worship, preaching and people. It is preachers saying "I know" and looking right at you as if they know exactly what is in your heart.

We have begun discussing getting into a small group. I know we need it. We need bible study and fellowship. But, my broken heart is fearful. Our small group experience in Ohio is part of where my break in faith started. It is definitely where my hurt with the church started all over again. As I am emailing the campus pastor about it, I am in tears. Honestly, like a child fearful of crossing the road. Please, take my hand and walk with me. That's the message on my heart, what I want to cry out. There is no part of church that scares me more.

We also are dragging our feet on membership and serving. We both have such a rough time with the membership part right now. It has been our experience that in bigger churches, you join and then get lost in the crowd. Not that we are attention seeking. It's just a raw hurt for us. We also want to make sure they want us as much as we want them. Our Ohio church didn't want us.

Serving is an area that is usually exciting for me. Again, I go back to how our Ohio church broke me down. My second most fearful thing about church right now, serving. I just can't get there. It's in my heart, I want to. But I can't. First church, bad experiences in serving mixed with some really good ones. It's why I know serving is good and right. Second church, so big couldn't serve. Third church, totally bad, horrible experiences in serving. Fourth/second church again, even bigger and harder to find a place to serve. Bad track record.

Don't get me wrong, I am excited we have found a church. The search is exhausting. I know the preaching and worship in this church is uncovering my heart, the places that I like to hide. It is working on my walk and faith. It is good. It will be good for as long as we are there. It won't always be easy, but it will be good. I know it won't be perfect, but as long as it always points me to Christ...it will be GOOD!

3:30 am Reality Check

I don't usually discuss my dreams here. They are typically weird or nightmares. They aren't usually worthy of discussion. The one I had tonight speaks to where I am at emotionally and mentally right now.

While reading this, I think it's important to remember where I came from. Parents and many others planted the message deep inside me that I am of no value. Over and over, I heard how worthless and unloved I was. Believable when your parents show zero affection or love at all, not a hint of caring at all. A difficult message to erase, nearly impossible. One that lies beneath the surface, waiting to sneak back into daily thinking regardless of how hard you've worked to wash it away. I have worked hard for ten years to defeat that message and yet, it lingers.

Now, just a brief reminder of how I spent 2 1/2 years while living in Ohio. I was not well received and very disliked. I was an outsider. No matter how hard I tried, I didn't fit in. Very few were kind and even those eventually turned on me. I only have contact with one person since leaving. During that time, most of my relationships back home fell apart. The distance was too great. I spent most of that 2 1/2 years being very lonely. Part of me knew that it was the nature of where I lived. Probably the majority of me took it very personally and wondered what was wrong with me. I wrote about it at the time.

Circling back to my dream...

I had a goal, something I was trying to accomplish. I couldn't get help. People shared notes and verbal expressions of disgust. They did not help because they didn't like me. Their disgust was with me, the person I am. I was not good enough, not worthy of them or their time. Every person, familiar and unfamiliar. I was not of value. Before waking up, I had two people standing in front of me, my husband and my mom. My husband said his life would have been better without me. My mom said she told I would be better off dead.

I woke up honestly questioning if this is true. I haven't had a lot of messages to counter those in a few years. Before we moved, I had a happy life. Sure, there were issues I had to work through, but I had friends, lots of them. I felt loved. I had a semi average relationship with my youngest brother. I had two best friends, one of two years and one of 15 years. I was rarely alone, in fact, almost never. It had taken a few years to get there, but I had a full life the last few years we were in KC.

I don't have any of that now. It's all gone. Disappeared. I have one person who sends a bible verse daily. I have another person who texts most days. She doesn't get too deep unless it's about her and even she's told me that she hates me at times. There are a couple women I've done things with on occasion, but even those relationships have dissipated. There has been promises of girls nights and trips. There have been many "we should ...." But, it doesn't happen. If I remove the one person I actually do see on occasion, I would say in a years time I have only had a total of 10-12 social interactions with people.

My only other human contact is with my husband. An average person who goes through a major loss, major job change, major move or a huge amount of stress will often go through a period of not being like themselves. My husband has gone through all of those things in the past year or so. He has not been himself. Like any spouse, I am the safe place to take his anger, frustration and high emotions. He really has not been himself since we moved to Ohio. I have taken a lot of his stress in verbal form. I know it's not because he doesn't love me. He does.

It is hard when the only person you have constant contact with tears you down instead of builds you up. I know the constant complaining, lack of compliments, picking at my flaws and harsh words are more about him than me. But, there is only so much anyone can take. When your emotional bank account is drained, it's even harder. I literally have nothing in my life that puts anything back from what's been depleted.

A few years running on an empty tank has allowed those old messages to creep back in to my daily thinking. It makes sense. I have nothing to counter them. In fact, most of my life right now feeds them. Most days I am alone. Thoughts creep into my head. Real thoughts that have come from real life. Daily, they are there.

Maybe I am abnormal. When I text repeatedly over months and get no response or told a friend is too busy, I am accepting of that. I know that people are busy. But then, I go on social media and see how they are off having a great time with this friend or that. Over and over, I see it happen and with multiple people. It's hard. I begin to question what is wrong with me. Am I too needy? I try not to be. Am I a terrible person, like my husband says? I didn't think so, I thought that was his personal frustration. Am I unloving or uncaring? I never thought so, I try to check in on people going through things. Am I unlovable or unworthy, like my parents said? Yes. That is where I end up. That is the one I can't counter. That must be it.

Now don't think I sit in a pity party. I don't. I go on about my days and this is really the only place I ever put my thoughts about it into words. Only on rare occasion do I ever say anything about it to my husband. The past messages that were real and a few years of difficulty in relationships, I am sure you can see why I would spiral into that line of thinking.

I end up with two thoughts. I must accept that this is my reality and it may continue to be for the rest of my life. My desire to have people in my life was something that came after becoming a Christian. Maybe it was something God wanted for a time, but is obviously not the plan for always. I thought the bible was clear that we were meant to be with other people, but maybe that isn't the case. Maybe I was meant to live a very isolated life with little social interaction.

The other thought is the one that breaks my heart. I don't know how to be anything but myself. Outside of hiding my history with abuse, I have always been a "what you see is what you get" kind of person. I don't pretend to be something I'm not. If I love you, I genuinely do my best to show you. I feel things very deeply and take relationships very seriously.

My family, my husband, maybe they are right. I am a terrible, unlovable person. I obviously have a personality that repels people. Maybe not at first, but everyone eventually leaves. My longest friendship was 17 years and that one is over. I rarely have any relationships that last longer than 2 years and usually don't last longer than 1 year. The people I was close to four years ago aren't in my life now. Friends I had 10 years ago, I have no contact with now. I am the common denominator. It is logical to believe that I am exactly what they say I am. I am worthless to this world.