That Time I Tried to Kill Myself (By Becoming Healthy)

"While I thought that I was learning how to live, I have been learning how to die." ~Leonardo da Vinci 

Here I am a year after life began again and what do I do?  I try to die.  And all I really want to do is live life to the fullest.  All because I forgot that my body still doesn't know that I am a superhero.

Because I forgot I'm not entirely healthy.  I'm not normal - y'all knew that.  But I'm not talking mentally.  I'm talking physically.  I have PCOS, which from what I can tell means that my hormones are screwed up and don't process the same way everyone else does.  For me this means I don't have enough progesterone.  At my age this can be a good thing guys.  It means I am extremely even-tempered most of the time and have a very healthy sex drive.  Who cares if I need to be best friends with a pair of tweezers because of the stray hairs that pop up from the extra testosterone?  But it also means that my iron can drop significantly and therefore so does my red blood cell count.  

What does that mean as far as my health?  Well, running a half-marathon is not an easy feat for anyone, and especially not for someone overweight and with minimal training.  But I did it.  Got my medal.  Felt like crap for a few weeks but then felt invincible after all the swelling and pain disappeared.  Still wasn't very motivated to work out and even had this discussion several times with my health coach.  We attributed it to my just being busy and distracted.

Then about a month later I took one of my crazy trips - worked all day, drove 15 hours to Tulsa, slept a few hours, conference all day and karaoke at night, a few more hours of sleep, all day conference, a 15-hour ride back, a quick shower and wardrobe change and then to a wedding.  Yes - I'm insane.  Felt tired for a few days and by Tuesday my iron totally took a nose dive.  I just didn't realize it yet until I watched the video of me speaking at the conference.  I was completely out of breath.  It hit my like a Mack truck.  It wasn't exhaustion that was causing my fatigue - it was the fact that my body couldn't process oxygen.  I was suffocating by just walking around.  After a year of trying to remember how to breathe my body just couldn't do what it was supposed to do.

Basically, I fried my adrenal glands.  There was simply more healing going on then they were able to handle.  What seemed to work before didn't work this time because I piled on thing after thing after thing.  There was no time for recovery.  And since my body doesn't work like other people's, they simply gave out for a while.

So, we're getting things back on track now.  My doctor is taking a very aggressive treatment plan.  I have absolutely no intention of dying any time soon - I have waaaaay to much to live for now.  Getting healthy has an entirely different look to it for the moment.  It's not about pounds or inches or cardio or miles.  It's about breaths.  It's about those little moments in between one breath and the next.  But really - isn't that what life is about anyways?

What's up, Chuck?

"Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them - that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like." ~Lao Tzu

 

Second date.  I made it to a second date.  This one was going to include meeting the kids.  Which I had a firm and fast rule about - it wasn't going to happen.  Not for a while anyways.  For a multitude of reasons:  the pain, the confusion, the unknown.  And, well, because it's three kids.  And the chaos that ensues from that tornado will usually run a guy off faster than a hot knife through butter.  (BTW, if you are bored and want a good laugh, check out Funny Southern Sayings here).

Well, that being said, I broke a few rules.  Plus he had a million kids (10 but that's a story for another day).  He had already pulled the kid card on me by introducing me to his youngest daughters (and they are so amazingly awesome).  So I gave in.  It was a moment of weakness - a temporarily lapse of insanity.  I said yes to dinner with the kids.  My kids.  All three of them.  I mean - what could possibly go wrong?

Yeah.  Well, dinner was good.  I was early (and by early I mean 3 minutes.  For me, that's a record).  His girls had huge smiles on when we came in and so did he.  Good sign.  We get seated and already Jacob is bouncing around and refusing to sit at our table.  Apparently he had Oreos for lunch and nothing else to eat.  Pure sugar and food coloring is running through his veins.  This bodes well for the rest of the evening...

Everyone orders and the girls are hitting it off fabulously.  Jacob sits next to Tony and proceeds to bouncing around. The girls finish their food and ask to go outside because they are cold.  I think they were wanting to give us a chance to talk.  A few minutes of nice conversation go by and out of the corner of my eye I see four bodies walking along the sidewalk above Tony's head.  It totally reminded me of the Beatles from the cover of the Abbey Road album.  I'm distracted by the movement behind my date as the girls wave hello to everyone on the main thoroughfare and Jacob catches up and starts rolling down the hill.  I make sure Tony doesn't look back - well, because I want a third date.   

After a while we walk outside to keep the kids company and they want frozen yogurt.  We walk to Menchie's as it's just down the street and it's a beautiful night.  Everyone gets some and we chill some more on the patio.  Jacob is break dancing #becauseJacob and his girls are telling stories about their dad, trying to embarrass him.  It's going well.  As well as can be expected with 5 satellites.  

I nervously excuse myself to the restroom, knowing he can handle 5 kids, but you know, and barely make it to the door when Brianna frantically runs up to me.  I figure Jacob has broken an arm or something.  In full Brianna "drama queen" style she tells me that Kiara threw up.  Yeah.  I really couldn't make this stuff up.  I go back out and apparently she had been laughing so hard, she caused all of the contents of not only desert but dinner also to spill not-so-graciously all over the ground.  I'm pretty sure at this point the date is over, as are my chances for a third.  But he took it in stride, actually laughing at how much I was squirming and the fact that every bit of blood had run out of my face.

So, he said he was going to call me later (which he did).  His girls even kidnapped one of mine for a sleepover (I think to ensure that he would have to see me again after all that had happened).  He still talked about our plans for this weekend (that's a good sign, right?).  Well, as Lao Tzu suggests, here's to spontaneity and just "letting things flow".  Because you can't always control the situation (especially when there are 5 kids in the equation) and you never know what will happen next.

The Extra Mile

"All endeavor calls for the ability to tramp the last mile, shape the last plan, endure the last hour's toil. The fight to the finish spirit is the one... characteristic we must posses if we are to face the future as finishers." ~Henry David Thoreau

One mile.  5,280 feet. 1,760 yards. 63,360 inches.  15-20 minutes of your life.  Sounds easy enough, right?  It's far from impossible for most people. I mean, anyone can do a mile. 

Unless that mile is at the end of 12.1 others.  After already completing 63,888 steps.  Then that last mile may as well be a million.  Every footfall is an argument with yourself.  Testing your will to see if you will give up or go on.  Your will gives up long before your body ever will.  And you can even push yourself past that point and survive.  I know - I did it.

The medic van followed our group.  We were the last ones allowed to finish.  About a dozen of us that persevered and didn't give in to the temptation to just ride to the end.  It would have been so easy just to do.  The van was right there; ice cold Gatorade and a plush seat just waiting to transport me to the finish line.  I fought that urge every mile past mile 7.   Glanced at that van and just wondered, "what if?"

But I wanted that medal.  That damned medal.  It wasn't much, really.  5.9 oz of some cheap metal painted to look like cowboy boots.  But that medal was a symbol for everything I have given up on these past few years - including myself.  I couldn't stop now.  I just had to keep pressing on.  If I got on that van, I would make it to the finish but I wouldn't earn that medal.

Step after step.  Houses and buildings became a blur.  Each movement forward brought me one step closer to that finish.  My new friend Rachel and I taking turns wanting to give up.  Our bodies were well past exhaustion.  Our will power gone - thank goodness never at the same time or we might still be sitting on the side of the road.  We pushed ourselves further than we ever had.  Then we pushed some more.  Legs cramped.  Hands swelled.  Muscles twinged and gave out.  And yet we still walked.

After mile marker 10, the signs disappeared.  We wouldn't see another one until 13.  Maybe it was a blessing in disguise.  We had no way of judging exactly how far we had left.  So therefore, we had no way to know how much more sweat and soul we would have to leave on the pavement.  

At 11 1/2, someone told us we only had a mile and a half to go.  One mile and some change.  Less than 8,000 steps and we could be done.  It no longer mattered if we were the last people to cross.  It didn't matter that the water tables and musicians had long since packed up and left little behind but some trash.  The only thing that mattered to us was crossing that finish line.  

I couldn't even tell you what the scenery looked like during those last miles.  I'm still not entirely sure I walked it.  I just kept putting one foot in front of the other.  Every single movement I made was done with the intention of moving in a forwardly direction and reaching the finish line.  I took the shortest route possible.  I skipped stopping for refreshments so I wouldn't waste any precious steps.  I just kept moving.  I just did. 

So, that's how I managed to make it through that extra mile.  I never before pondered what that meant.  Now I know.  It's going when every fiber of your being screams that it's ok to stop.  And taking the next step.  And the next.  And yet another.  It's not riding the bus the last few miles to the finish line.  It's you becoming battered and bruised and still going forward.  And it's you crumbling in a puddle of tears at the end knowing that no matter how many lies you told yourself, you did it.  You finally finished.  It's sitting on the curb amongst the dirt and trash and weeds and never feeling more amazing and beautiful.  Knowing there are still many steps in front of you that you have yet to take and also knowing that there will never be any more important than the ones you just completed.  Because you finished.  Because if I ever had hope to face the rest of my future, I needed to finish.  And I did. 

The Lies I've Been Telling The World

"I guess sometimes you have to lie to find the truth." ~Scott Westerfeld

I've been telling lies.  Big ones.  Tall, short and plenty of grey ones.  With a lot of little white lies sprinkled in between.  I meant well, ya know.  I never meant to hurt anybody.  I think the person I hurt most of all was myself.

And my son.  Because the lies have been about him. And to him. And especially the outside world.  I thought I was helping him - protecting him from the judging looks and the well-intentioned advice.  But I did more damage than good.

You see - I've been telling everyone including me that Jacob was normal.  That he was just like every other boy but just a little more active.  I've been told since he was born that he would grow out of it.  Three, four and five passed and he still was the same.  Impulsive, hyper, angry but also the sweetest little boy. 

He was diagnosed with ADHD.  I thought that we had finally found the cause for his behavior and mood swings.  The doctor put him on meds and the teachers were happy.  The people at church were happy.  The nosy condescending women at the stores were happy.  Because he was quiet on the medication.  Calm and not the least bit impulsive.

But nighttime is hell.  When he comes down from the meds he is moody and angry.  He can't concentrate on homework.  He throws a fit if he doesn't get his way.  Not a five minute one, but for hours. He has a persistent streak a mile long.  And at the end of the night he throws his arms around me and says "I'm sorry Mommy - I love you."

The truth is - Jacob is not normal.  He is the furthest you can get from normal.  And he doesn't just have ADHD.  There is something more severe going on.  Always has been.  But because of the lies I told, I didn't push hard enough to get it checked out.  The doctors didn't dig deeper because I took the easy way out.  The teachers haven't been able to help in the most effective way because they bought into my lies.

Well, this year we were blessed with a teacher that didn't buy in completely.  She pushed me to dig.  She pushed the guidance counselor and the principal to investigate.  So I took Jacob to a neurologist to start testing for learning disabilities.  I didn't quite expect the prognosis he was given: Jacob's head size is less than 2nd percentile for his age.  He has something called microcephalis and hyperactive sensitivity. 

He's always been small.  So I believed in another lie that his head should be proportionate.  Because it was small, his brain folded over a little differently when he was growing.  So the neural pathways didn't connect in the same ways as everyone else's.  It explains the behavior. And mood swings.  And temper.  And the trouble with learning.  

We still have a lot of testing to go to determine how severe it is and how to plan for the future.  We need to figure out what learning disabilities he has and make plans to get him the extra help he needs. But it's a relief to finally be able to come out of the closet and admit that my kid isn't normal.  He's not like all the other boys and he never will be.

So, despite wanting a "normal" kid so badly that I would lie to everyone, I got a special needs kid.  He takes a lot of extra time, patience and energy to deal with every day.  He's smart as a whip when he wants to learn, but he just works on a different operating system.  He'll outrun any boy on the field and climb trees better than a monkey can.  But at the end of the day, after the tears have been dried, hugs given and prayers said, I can admit that I have a special needs child - and he's one of the most special little boys you will ever meet and I can't wait to see what God has in store for this "special" child!

2014 Was An Audacious Year!

"It's only when we have nothing else to hold onto that we're willing to hold onto something very audacious and scary." ~Sonia Johnson

[I borrowed this idea from Dan Pearce's Single Dad Laughing's post here with permission]
 
I never imagined after the rough year I had in 2013 that 2014 could be so amazing.  I mean, it had to be better - once you hit rock bottom, there's only one way to go.  But it surpassed even my wildest imagination!

It was difficult to start the year off with the pounds I had put back on, but I was bound and determined that I was going to take them off for good this year.  I set my goal high - go big or go home, right? - to lose 100 pounds.  Well, I beat it by a few and I can't tell you how amazing I feel.  I haven't been this small since college.  I attribute it to eating clean which was the best lifestyle change I could have ever made.

I also started the year off with a bang in my running.  I ran a 5k every other week to train for the half-marathons.  My first was in April.  I was afraid I wouldn't finish, but I did it in 3 1/2 hours which beat my expectations by 30 minutes.  I not only did one Warrior Dash, but two and ran the second half in October.  My target was to run 365 miles in 2014, but I blew past that and hit 500.  Needless to say I went through several pairs of shoes.

I finally got the house finished and rented out.  This put us on a great start to getting out of debt.  By September my student loans were paid off and I started saving for a down payment on a house.  We should finally be in our own early in 2015.  I know the kids are going to love that!

After a rocky end to 2013, work has been great!  Although I love my job, my blog has taken off to a point that I'm finally bringing in some good income.  I finally started on a book that was almost finished by the end of NaNoWriMo.  I'm putting on the final touches and I can't wait for y'all to read it.  

God placed several things on my heart for this year and one of those was for homeless ministries.  I got involved with a great group of people and we have helped countless people get off the streets.  My good friend Oscar has been invaluable to showing us the true needs of those living in the cold.  My blessings have been more than I ever could have given.

I finally listened and started a children's choir at church.  Through this, we have had a number of families come to know Jesus.  I love to see the word of God shine through these beautiful faces.

One of my most cherished and fun goals this year was to get a Neighbor's Table.  I don't have my house yet, but we were able to get a rental with a big enough yard to put one in.  We invited anyone that could come for Thanksgiving and Christmas to join us at this amazing table and share what community looks like.  Those are memories I will never forget! 

The kids and I took several vacations this year.  We all went to Texas to visit their best friend Ishita and their brother Addison.  It was great finally meeting Alex and Olivia in person!  We swung by Oklahoma on the way and got to meet up with a lot of awesome dreamers.  We also went to our favorite place on Earth - Emerald Isle - with our favorite people on Earth.  

I even snuck away for a few trips of my own.  The first was to the Storyline Conference in San Diego where I got to meet Jon Acuff and Bob Goff in person.  These are two of the people who had such an incredible impact on my healing and moving forward.  I'm in the middle of packing for my second trip - I'm headed to Europe to spend the rest of the holidays with one of my good friends from college.

All in all, I'd have to say it was an amazing year.  What a turnaround from depression and rock bottom a year and a half ago.  It's incredible the healing God brought me and the life he was preparing me for.  I can't wait to see what 2015 has in store!

Christmas Dinner for One

"I am not alone at all, I thought.  I was never alone at all.  And that, of course, is the message of Christmas.  We are never alone.  Not when the night is darkest, the wind coldest, the world seemingly most indifferent.  For this is still the time God chooses." ~Taylor Caldwell

I realized today that this is the first Christmas Eve I have ever been alone.  Truly alone.  In my entire life.  No last minute shopping.  No visiting 10 houses before midnight.  No kids trying to peek at presents under the tree. 

I am sitting here enjoying the ham Wayne's mom sent home with me.  I threw together some other stuff I had in the cupboards and poured a glass of wine.  I am singing along to Christmas music and catching up on all the well-wishes.

I may be sitting here alone in a quiet apartment with cats resting under the tree, but I'm not really alone.  I am spending it I am reveling in amazement at the people God brought into my life.  I am looking at dozens upon dozens of cards hanging on my wall from beautiful people all over the world.  I am gazing at the handmade ornaments my new friends have made lovingly and sent for an ornament exchange.  I see the bottom of the tree void of any boxes.  The gifts I received can't be placed in a box or a bag.  They can't be bought nor returned.  

This year I've received an outpouring of love completely unimaginable.  I've been giving the gift of friendship from friends both old and new.  I've been given laughter and even a few tears but always with a shoulder to cry on.  I have found out that I don't always have to be strong but can be weak and it's still OK.  I've even found a little bit of Christmas magic.  But most of all, I have found peace.  Peace within myself.  Peace with my situation.  Peace that I can sit here in the quiet and know that I am not alone and I never have been.

So tonight, I toast my glass of wine to you whether you are visiting with family and friends or sitting alone in the quiet like me.  I hope that amongst the piles of boxes and wrapping paper you are able to find the gifts that really matter the most!  I love you all and I wish you the merriest of Christmases!

Grieving No More

"The risk of love is loss, and the price of loss is grief -
But the pain of grief is only a shadow
When compared with the pain of never risking love."
~Hilary Stanton Zunin

A friend of mine reminded me it was OK to grieve.  But the thing is, I have grieved for over half a year.  Most of 2013 wasted trying to get back what I lost.  I grieved for a relationship that is no more.  The "we" that we were is gone; never to return no matter how many tears I shed or how many hours on my knees I spent praying.  I grieved for the person I was.  A huge part of me is gone.  The part of me that believed in Christmas magic and happily ever after.  The person that would watch sappy Hallmark movies with tears in her eyes knowing that I had found my fairy tale and it was even better than the movies.  I grieved for the Olan Mills family pictures that would never be.  The family cookouts and birthday parties and the white picket fence.

But I'm done grieving.  I'm not going to spend the last month of this crappy year crying.  I don't know that I'm ready to move forward in any way yet, but I can't live in the past any longer.  Nothing I can do could bring back my life as I knew it before June.  It took something as a new pair of jeans to finally give me the closure I needed.  It took someone reminding me that if I didn't forgive, it was one of the worst sins I could commit because God gives me his mercy every day.

And I forgave.  Wayne for not loving me the way I needed and for walking out of my life.  The family members that turned their backs on me when I needed them the most.  But most of all - I forgave myself.  For putting my heart and soul into a man that threw it away.  For not trusting that God had a bigger plan for me and wasn't ready to unveil it yet.  For not seeing the precious gifts I had in my children.  For not cherishing the absolutely incredible friends I still have and the blessed angels that have come into my life since then. 

So, I don't shed tears for the past anymore.  I don't have dreams for the future.  What I have is the knowledge of a promise that God will make this all work out in the end.  Whether it's because of destiny or just because I plowed away at it until it worked.  I can't say I even have hope.  But I have prayers.  And I know that somehow, someway those are going to get to the big man and He's going to answer in His own way.  Until then, I'm going to continue to be still and try to hear whatever message I am supposed to be getting from all of this.  And maybe - just maybe - a stray Christmas snowflake will hold just enough Christmas magic to bring the spark back again.