Moving On

Just today, as I was talking to Goose, she told me that every night she has nightmares about fires.  She has said things in the past, but I guess I never really put it together.  I still have nightmares about the fire.  It's been almost two years (May 24) and it suddenly hit me that we aren't even close to being "over it."

I know I said I was grateful.  After the fire I felt so profound and overwhelmed at the outcome of the events but the reality is that it completely crushed my family.  I feel like only very recently we are finally coming out of the fog (or smoke, if you will.)

While I was thankful and incredibly blessed to have come through things as we did, I was still completely lost.  We were all safe even though all our stuff was lost.  But it was more than our "stuff" that was lost.  I lost a sense of security, a sense of permanence.   Apparently, so did Goose.  Sure I was grateful, but then what?  There was and is so much rebuilding to do and I finally feel ready. 

The past two years have felt like a blur.  I have been living.  I have been getting by.  I have been existing.  But never moving forward.  And I don't know what it is but I finally feel ready to let go.  To let go of all of the things I lost.  The things we did manage to box up and move have just sat in boxes for the last 21 months.  Our house felt nothing like a home.  While I had things to hang on the wall, they sat covered in dust in the garage.  Our windows sat without curtains.  In the back of my head I thought, "Why bother? It will all burn to the ground?"

In the last few weeks though, both my husband and I have felt the change.  I can't put my finger on what it is exactly, but we are finally ready to let go and move on.  I bought a new lamp and some curtains.  The kitchen looks welcoming.  The living room looks more cozy everyday.  I finally feel like this is a place I can stay...

And yet, I forgot to think of how any of this has effected my daughter.  She was only 4 when the fire happened and I took for granted the fear in her heart.  I pushed her fears out of my mind, as there was no room for anyone's fears but my own.  However today she told me that every night... Every night she has bad dreams about the bad people burning our house down with a match.  It breaks my heart to think that while I was working so hard to deny my fears, here she was, living hers.  I wasn't ready to accept that the trauma from the fire was still impacting me today, how could I possibly see that it could mean to anyone else.  But...

I am finally ready to deal with it.  To move on.  To accept that it happened and we are coming out better for it.  I can imagine what you are all thinking, "How bad could it be?"  Not that bad, right?  I mean, we survived, as did most of our stuff. 

I wrote the top half of this post over a year ago.  Re-reading it today, I'm stunned.  So much has changed in the past year and yet still, not much progress has been made.  Most days, I feel like I am treading water.  But I suppose I am moving forward, ever so slowly, at a snails pace.

I have a new job. And its sort of my dream job in fact.  I am working at Shipwreck Beads and at the beginning of April, I moved from the shipping department to a brand new position that was created for me.  Thats right, I am now the Social Media Coordinator. I am writing our blog, Loose Ends.  I also manage our Facebook and Pinterest and other online accounts.  Every single day I am stunned that I am actually getting paid to do this.  I get to bead and put together tutorials.  Its almost unreal.

Blogging for the store makes me realize how much I miss blogging for myself.  I miss writing and sharing. Being introspective and sharing parts of myself I have completely neglected.  So here I am, moving forward. Progress will be made. I'm committed to being a better person. A better mother. A better blogger.  Pretty much just a better me.  It feels good to be back. Although, I suppose I never really left.

Ready to Stop Fighting

Thank you, Jenny, The Bloggess for sharing this last night.

Ya know how sometimes the universe sends you a sign and tells you exactly the thing you need to hear?

Well, thats what this blog post was to me last night.

I read it and re-read it.

I cried harder each time. 

I needed to hear that I was wanted, broken or not.

Her words caused my soul to crumble and shook me to the core.

You're not alone.

I'm still working up the courage for a real, honest, deep post.

I'm not going to lie, the last few months have been a tremendous struggle.

There have been a lot of sleepless nights, even more tears...

But I am ready to be done.

Done fighting and ready to live!

(Almost) Monday Morning Confessional

Yup.

I am THAT mom.  

Today is a holiday;

Hubs and I are both off...

And Goose will be going to daycare.

I'm a terrible mother.
My child will be scarred for life...

Or will she?

Okay, so here is the deal.

We have it worked out that Goose is only in daycare two days a week. Monday and Wednesday.  The rest of the time she is with family and weekends are spent at home.  I know we don't spend as much time with her as we "should" (what does that even mean, anyway?) but, honestly, the thing is... daycare ain't cheap! We spend quite a bit just for her to go on those two days and we have to pay whether she is there are not.  It sucks.  But it is what it is.

Besides...

Goose loves "school."
She loves her friends.
She loves to make crafts.
She loves the attention.

And, quite frankly, she needs the interaction.
Craves it.
I need her to have the interaction.

Also,
Hubs and I rarely spent time alone.
Together.
During the day.

So... we are gonna take advantage of it!

Call me a bad mom, I don't care.
I know Goose will be happier at school than hangin' at home while Hubs and I catch up on the cleaning.
'Cuz we didn't do much all weekend.
And its hard for all of us, being cooped up when the weather is bad.
It's just better for ALL of us this way.
Trust me.  

And here is the real confession...

I'm not even gonna let myself feel guilty about it.

Not in the slightest.

Don't be judgey...

PS - Check out the AH-mazing vintage jacket I snagged this weekend at Fun Junk. Actually, its a suit but the skirt is WAY small. 

The coat fits purrrfect. 

This is just a bad photo booth pic, but you should get the idea.

Saturday Night SUCKED!

I had a panic attack on Saturday night. At Walmart. In the parking lot. It was wonderful. Please note the sarcasm dripping off that last word there. I was feeling fine, Goose had just got to bed and I was planning on printing pictures all night. Hubs was having his BFF (inside joke)come over and they were going to have a loser gamer night.

So anyway, I was going to print pictures. Just got some new ink for my printer and then I realized I didn't have photo paper! Well, its not that I don't have any, it was more that I couldn't find it. So off to Walmart I went.

Did my shopping, it was a relativly quick trip in and out. I knew what I wanted. And then it started, out of no where it hit me. The sweat on the brow, the hot pricklys down my arms. My pace quickened and I hurried to the check out. Thank God for self-check out. I don't think I could have spoken to any one at that point.

I pay and head for the door. My head was down, I was almost running, almost took out an employee in the process. And then I realized I went out the wrong door and was parked on the other side of the parking lot. I was moving as fast as I could (in slippers, yes I wore slippers to WM in the middle of the night, I am a fashion goddess, I know... I was also in jammie pants) and I finally get to my car.

I get in the seat and blast the heat. Sometimes, heat helps dissapate my anxiety. At one point I called my husband to let him know I was alive and what was going on, ya know, not to expect me any time soon.

My heart was pounding and I felt nauseaus. Let me explain what thats like for me. Imagine your stomach is a bingo machine, the big metal balls with the crank and the wooden numbers clank around and around. Thats what my stomach feels like and its everything I can do to stop my self from throwing up. And why not just let my self throw up, you ask? Its because once I start, I can't stop. I can't eat. I try to breath, but its like I can't take in enough air. My heart pounds like its running out of blood... its terrible.

I open my eyes and it feels like only minutes later and I am drenched with sweat, the heat on the car is still blaring and I discovered I had been sitting there for over an hour. Not feeling any better, I know I just need to get home so I drive, probably very erratically, the entire way home. Which thankfully is only like five minutes.

Hubs called as I was pulling in the drive way. I ran in the house and went straight for the shower. Sometimes its the only thing that helps. The warm water running over my back, I stayed in until the water ran cold. Then still wrapped in a towel I went to sleep. Spent most of Sunday in bed too. Unfortunately my panic attacks are more of a knock me on my ass for several days kinda thing.

I'm sure some of you are wondering why I am chosing to talk about something so personal and its been a really tough choice for me. But I think what it came down to is not that I want to talk about it. Believe me, I don't WANT to talk about this. Its scary and painful and I don't even fully understand what it is I'm going through. It's more that I HAVE to talk about it. To feel less alone, maybe. To know, that I am not the only one going through this. Maybe to help someone else feel not as alone too.

I just need to talk about it.

Honesty.

I have struggled for a long time about how honest I want to be on this blog. Do I want to keep it strictly craftworty? Obviously, I can't talk about the crafts without talking about this kid b/c well, without her, what woulI craft? Or do I want to delve into a deeper layer of my self and do I really want to share that with the world?

But I finally can to the conclusion that this blog is call a "Crafty Mom's World" and my world is so much bigger than the stuff I create and my profile even says I try to live as honeltly as possible, And since we are on the subject or honestly, I have to say that things have not been going so great in my world.

Not money wise, not with the Hubs, and definitely not with Goose (although she has been sick since Sunday night and it is the most pitiful thing you have ever seen. It even warranted a trip to the emergency room, but we were FINE before the Dr. even saw us, funny how that works.) everythiong is pretty giood but just with me in general.

I have been dealing with a great deal of anxiety and panic attacks. I can't explain it, but since August, things have just spiraled out of control. My panic attacks cause me to be nauseous and throw up and as a result I have lot over 35lbs. I haven't weight this since high school. (But I did convince Hubs, sort of, that its good that I didn't throw anyway any of my skinny clothes b/c I actually have cute stuff to wear. LOL)

IF you have never had a panic attack, its an extremely isolating and scary thing. It got to the point where I wasn't eating and couldn't get out of bed. As you can imagine, my work suffered, my family suffered. Try explaining to a 2 year old why mommy is sick again!? And my husband, god bless my husband, because he has been my rock thorough this all. Always trying to please, and make me feel better when there was little he could do. He drew my bath before I had to ask and has been the most amazing father through it all. I love him so much and I am so lucky to have him in my life.

Anyway I finally took the plunge and saw a Doctor. Well, a Dr. and a counselor and I am on some meds that hopefully once they start working I should be back on track. One of them I am taking has already started to kick in and I can already feel a little more upbeat. For a while there it was hard to see the light at the end of tunnel, I didn't think there was one.

So there it is... all on the line. More that I have every shared with anyone before. I'm not used to being this raw with things, this honest. I don't like to talk about my self, not the deep personal stuff. I'm private, I'm the strong one. But I even say in my profile that I try to life as honestly as possible and I think that not being honest about this was tearing me up inside. I had this secret that I desperately needed to talk about but was too scared too. For what reason I don't know, scared I suppose. Scared people would judge me, scared that people would think I am crazy.

Rationally I know this is silly but in my head... in my heart... its not that easy. I finally came clean to my whole family. My mom is accepting although she would rather believe that its physical not mental, my dad thought I was bulimic but they are both understanding and worried and willing to do anything to help.

Even my boss has been a huge help/ I'm glad we work in the type of law we work in (employment) b/c he has a great understanding of anxiety/depression and has been completely wonderful and supportive and is just focused on getting me better. I've worked for him for 5 years (almost exactly) and he knows what I am capalbe of.

SO thank you for all taking the time to read this, I needed to get it off my chest. I needed to be honest about it all. My plan is, at least now that I am feeling a little better is to be blogging a little more. Maybe more day to day, just so I can get things off my chest. I'm tired about being too scared to talk about what I am really feeling and it people can identify with what I say, great, I hope I can help someone.

AND don't worry!!! I am not going to stop crafting! I haven't crafted in a while, but I miss it. I SO MISS BEING CREATVE!! I'll probably be posting lots of pictures over the next while or so. AND!!!!!! I am still starting an Etsy shoppe, I've just been hiatus with that like ever thing else!



ETA - Linked this up to Tip Junkie as my favorite blog post (on your own blog) of 2008. I chose this post, b/c I think it marks a time in my blogging "career" when I started to take it seriously and realizing that I needed to let people get to know the real me. I feel like this post let me get past my fears that people wouldn't like me and that even if I'm the only one reading my blog... thats okay!