You Just Can’t Make This Up…

I met a man that I fell in love with. A man that against all of my walls and defenses, I fell head over heels for. But then he died. No, I don’t mean I found out that he cheated and that he was dead to me, I mean he passed away 2 hours after my last text message to him. I wish that was the end. I wish that it was a tragic point that I was able to mourn the man I loved. But it didn’t happen that way…

It has been three months since he died. I can still remember the day vividly. I had just switched jobs and he sent me a text while he was at work. He was the type of man to wake me up every morning with a good morning text telling me how much he loved me and missed me. He worked as a cell tower service technician and had messaged me as he was going up the tower. I texted him two hours after that only to find out that two minutes prior to the text he fell. I found it odd that day that he never responded. I waited and called, but he never answered. I didn’t find out until two days later that he had passed away.

I was devastated. I lost it. I couldn’t believe that the man I had started to talk about marriage with was gone. I didn’t get to say goodbye. The worst part was that we hadn’t yet met each other’s families, so they didn’t know about me. I had to reach out via Facebook.

I messaged his mother and she allowed me to go to the funeral… Some days I wish I would have never gone. Then I wouldn’t have found out what I did. When I got there, I noticed a girl my age sitting not too far from the front. She was crying. A picture of the two of them sat next to the casket. At the time I didn’t think anything of it. He was a gorgeous man that women tended to gravitate towards, so I just assumed she was another one of his good friends.

She got up to speak and told the crowd about how she met him and how she loved him. I sat there in silence, crying in part because the man I loved was gone, and crying because suddenly I knew who she was.

Later that day I messaged her on Facebook only to find out that he had been dating both of us at the same time. He had told us he wanted to marry both of us and he had even met her family. It was a whole different aspect of heartbreak. I still don’t know how I feel about all of it.

How do you handle finding out that the man you thought you were going to share your life with was saying the same exact things to another woman? To add a little icing to the cake, I found out from a mutual friend that eight other women had come forward claiming to have been dating him.

It made me sick to my stomach.

Grief was hard enough without adding anger into it. However, I learned something. I learned that I was stronger than I thought I was. I learned that death could not crumple the woman I was.

I went to his grave later and told him what I thought about his lies. I had to smile. The man I thought to be slightly naive and a little uneducated was actually the best liar I had ever met.

He fooled me, but I cannot say I hate him for what he did. It’d be pointless, haha… He’s dead.

The funny thing is, I still miss him sometimes. If he were alive I would have broken up with him and never spoke to him again, but there is something about the permanence of death that gets to me. I had never dealt with death until he died.

I dealt with death in a scientific way. I studied it. I studied what happened to bodies when they die and when they’re buried. I studied a little deeper into my faith and took a serious look at the existence of Heaven and Hell. Still can’t say I’m sold on the idea, but I don’t like the idea that the man I knew is just completely gone.

It seems a waste of life and personality for the essence of a person to simply vanish after death.

 

I rant now, partly to vent and partly to let out the grief that I have a hard time putting into vocal words. It’s hard to understand grief and loss and love when everything is gone so suddenly.

Fight for Parkinson’s 

Hey guys, 

I don’t often make a giant call out to my fellow bloggers, but I’m asking you human to human to do me a favor. I read so many of the posts that pop up on my feed and I am humbled by the human connection and willingness to share with a community. 

I am a volunteer boxing coach for Parkinson’s patients. One of my boxers entered our little program into a competition to win $6000. This money would go to funding new equipment for our boxers to exercise with and covering monthly costs for those who couldn’t afford it. 

Why should you care? 

Our program, because it is an exercise program, is not funded by any national Parkinson’s foundations. We as boxing coaches do not take any money for ourself and have dedicated our time to helping our boxers fight against a disease that currently has no cure. 

How to help

All it takes is one vote per email address for Rock Steady Boxing Brownsburg. If you could vote every day up until March 31st, I would be eternally grateful to my WordPress community. 

Here’s the link: 

Vote for Rock Steady Brownsburg

Hope for Parksinson’s

  I usually use my blog post to share about things in my life that have happened to me. I talk about the good things, the bad things, and the things that just make me laugh. Today, however, I want to talk about a program that is near and dear to me.

I am a coach for a boxing program for Parkinson’s patients. No, they don’t beat each other up as a workout. We do, however, teach them boxing style workout techniques that help to keep their symptoms at bay. As the rebels of the Parkinson’s community, I get to see a hard-working group of people fight back against a disease that currently has no cure.

Our little affiliate program hosts a group of 46 boxers currently that can best be described as my family members. No boxer is just a boxer to me. 

It has be the best volunteer job I’ve ever had. We don’t get paid for what we do and the money we earn goes directly back into equipment costs and member fees for those that can’t afford it. 

One of our boxers had the idea to enter us in a competition to win $6000 towards our program. It’s a program where you vote once a day per email account. If you could please vote for Rock Steady Boxing I would be deeply indebted to my blogging community. All it takes is sharing this post and voting once a day to help us win.

The money would be used to fund a larger gym and better equipment for the boxing program. Wraps, gloves, and speedbags are all things we could use more of. 

Help my program fight back against Parkinson’s and keep it running. Please vote for Rock Steady Boxing Brownsburg

Holiday blues 

Can I just start off with saying that emotions stink? Christmas is the best time of the year. The treats, the family time, the treats, the snow, and did I mention the treats?….I love it all. However, this year feels bittersweet to me. 

This is my first full set of holidays that I get to spend with my dad and this side of my family. I love it all. It’s a completely different atmosphere from how I grew up with my mother and it’s incredibly refreshing. But as the holidays approach I can’t help feeling a little forlorn. I miss my mom. It’s been two years since I’ve seen her. 

We had a falling out about a year and a half ago and it hasn’t been the same since. There is the part of me that understands that she needs help and that she is toxic to my well-being, but I miss her. I hate that I do, but it’s hard to know that things aren’t better between us and that she isn’t taking steps to fix our relationship. Granted, neither of us are willing to give in to the other and I’ve had to make the decision to distance myself from her issues since I can’t fix them. 

Does that make me a bad daughter? We went from being very close to rarely talking. I want nothing more than to get to a healthy point with her, but she’s got several problems with lying that create a toxic environment for me to be around. 

There isn’t any point to this post other than to vent and ramble about the small downside of the holiday season. 

Right now I’m listening to the country Christmas station watching my mom(stepmom) put up decorations with my brother and sister. I love this house, I love this family, and I love how close we all are. I just wish my mom and I were in a better place. 

Dating Myself

Being-Alone

Dating is hard. Being single is even harder… at least for me. The concept of having to be alone with myself is one that I have a hard time with. When I started college I got into a relationship pretty quickly that lasted for the better part of two years. After that, I went to another relationship that lasted for a while in which I thought I was dating “the one” for me. I was wrong.

The hardest part was not the breakup, however, it’s been the task of learning how to be by myself. Living in a different area far from my group of friends has left me with very few distractions. Alone time for me has never been something I’ve been good at. I’m still in the process of gaining strength and independence in that area of my life.

So what did I do when I was forced with being alone?

I’ve begun dating myself. I went to the movies alone, watched what I wanted to, and got dressed up for me. At first I felt silly, but the more I did it the more I felt empowered. I’m pretty awesome. I’m worth being taken out on dates and focusing on me every once in a while.

My blog is something that tends to get neglected when I’m with someone. I forget how therapeutic it is to rant and write and be supported by my WordPress community.

While this blog is a little squirrel brained, it’s my next step in dating myself. I love to write, so why stop?

Social media outreach: Bloggers Unite!

  Hey fellow bloggers! I have a question for you guys! I am currently trying to figure out what avenues to network with in order to get more of an audience for my blog. I have a Twitter account for my blog and I’ve set up an email account for corresponding with fellow bloggers on collaborative posts (collegelady17@gmail.com if you’re interested). 

Does anyone have any suggestions? Please help a fellow blogger out! It’d be greatly appreciated. 

I apologize if this looks like a funny formatted post, I’m writing from my phone. Thank you guys in advance for the help.

Kids really do say the funniest things… Part 3!

First off, I have way too much fun with these posts! Secondly, I laugh because you just can’t make up the things that kids say. I work in customer service, so I interact with parents and their children. I also travel too, so the things you hear in public restrooms are hilarious….

Little girl and her mom a few stalls over… :

Her Mom: “Honey this isn’t play time. You need to poop.”

Girl: “Well I can’t go right now. I just can’t.”

H.M. : “You told me you had to go in the car. Why can’t you go?”

G: “Because I’m still mad at you.”

Little boy at the grocery store:

Boy: “Guess what?”

Me: “What?”

Boy: “I get to see my grandparents tonight.”

Me: “Oh how fun! Are you excited?”

Boy: “Yeah, but I can’t play rough with my grandpa.”

Me: “Why not?”

Boy: “He has diarrhea.”

His mom: “……….yep. You were listening to me and Grandma earlier weren’t you?”

My little brother listening to “I Bet My Life” by Imagine Dragons… :

As the chorus comes up

Brother: “I- I bit my wife! I bit my wife for youuuuuuu!”

Me: “Dude, it’s I bet my life not I bit my wife.”

My little sister: “Ewwwwww you have a wife?”

Brother: “NO! Gross. Girls are gross. I am NOT married.”

I seriously wish that “Kids say the Darnest Things” was still on TV. The things that I hear from children tend to be some of the funniest things I hear, especially at work.

Have any funny stories? Please, please share them! Kids really are the best.

Sweet Potatoes are Violent…

Well I must say I have a new level of respect for every grocery bagger I’ve ever met. Today I finished my first day of work at a supermarket and good grief was it more effort than I had ever imagined. I loved it, but boy was it taxing.

I learned a very valuable lesson today as well:

Klutzes and produce just don’t mix.

As I type this, I’m holding up an ice pack to my lip, nursing the busted lip I incurred while quickly bagging a particular customer’s groceries. There was a line growing behind her, so I was just trying to get done.

Now mind you, I had been training and working for the better part of the afternoon and I had not had a single incident yet (aside from forgetting to ask a few times if they wanted paper or plastic). I had been bustling from one customer to the next, and I had no problem whatsoever.

So obviously the produce had to initiate me into the supermarket club. As I was bagging this particular lady’s groceries, the bag of sweet potatoes was handed to me by the cashier. I swung the potatoes over to the plastic bag, but I apparently was not aware of how close my face was to the bag. As it swung my bottom lip caught the brunt of 1.27 pounds of flying sweet spuds.

Thankfully the customer and the cashier seemed not to notice the tiny bit of blood on my lip and the small bruise forming around it. I smiled at the customer, tucking my lip in a bit so my injury wasn’t evident. My manager came up to me after I put her cart up and I gladly took the cue to go home for the day since my shift was over.

I suppose I shouldn’t have been so eager to put the groceries in the bag, but hey, at least I can say I have an exciting job. Grocery baggers are super hard workers and my coworkers, while I haven’t officially met everyone, seem to enjoy helping the customers. It makes me really excited to work there.

I wonder if anyone else has been beat up by the perishables, but I don’t think it would be a great idea to ask them…

Depression is draining

First off, I’d like to apologize over my absence. I must have written a dozen starts to blog posts, but they never seemed to come to an end I was happy with. So rather than tell a funny story(I’ve had a few these past few months) or write about some unspoken truth, I decided to talk about depression.

Depression sucks. It just does. It is one of the most crippling helpless feelings I’ve ever experienced in my life. To add to its joyous occurrence (I mean that in the most sarcastic way) I also got diagnosed with high anxiety too.

So basically I had no motivation and was panicking about my future and the possibility of failure.

I grew up in a home where counseling wasn’t an option. It was simply an insult if you were deemed too weak or acting “dramatic” as my mom would call it. The situation that I lived in wasn’t healthy and it took me until college to realize that. Well, that realization and the loss of a relationship with my mom was sickening.

What do you do when the one major contributing factor in your life (regardless of the good and bad) suddenly is exposed as a lie? For me, I just spiraled downwards a bit. I went through a period of saying I was fine and to be fair I had an amazing support system from my dad and stepmom’s side of the family. Over the summer they were there for me and kept me together, but when I went back to college that’s when I realized that I wasn’t fine.

I hated that I couldn’t talk to my mother anymore and that when we did talk, the conversations were more destructive than progressive. I was also struggling with balancing classes that were rather difficult and a job that was much more demanding than I had anticipated.

I felt thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread (LOTR reference!) and I had to come to the realization that I couldn’t handle it all.

It was when I was sitting outside of a classroom waiting for class to start and I started uncontrollably crying for no reason that I realized I needed help.

That was probably the toughest part: I had to swallow my pride and admit to myself that it was okay that I couldn’t handle everything on my own. I had friends to help me get through it all, but it wasn’t enough.

So I went to the counseling center and also had a long talk with my dad over the choices I had to make and I scaled down the amount of busyness I had in my life. I cut the classes that I couldn’t handle and I quit the job so I could focus on grades.

My blog fell to the wind because I couldn’t find the strength to write about this, let alone admit that I was going through a rough time.

However, I’ve begun to heal and for the first time in months the keyboard seems to be my friend again. I understand that things are not always going to be easy and I know there’s a long road ahead of me, but for the first time in a while I feel hope.

I have deep respect for those who continue to deal with depression. I used to be one of those people who wrote it off as weakness, but after dealing with it I have to say I’m sorry for ever thinking that.

Depression and anxiety really suck and dealing with them together is a nightmare. You can’t sleep because all you think about is what you need to do and you don’t want to get up because you don’t think there’s a point to trying.

I started to abuse alcohol just to sleep and then I started to abuse NyQuil when I ran out of alcohol. I drank just enough that I couldn’t think anymore simply so I could fall asleep. I took two doses of NyQuil or ZzzQuil just to pass out quicker. I knew it wasn’t healthy and I certainly didn’t tell anyone let alone my support group.

I’m better now and I don’t do that anymore. I’ve learned to fall asleep using healthier options. I won’t lie, there are still nights when I’m awake stressing and thinking uncontrollably of the same thing over and over again until I finally pass out.

I am sorry for taking so long to blog, but thank you to those who take the time to read this.

I’ve also taken up photography again, so the photo at the top is one of mine I’m most proud of.

Local coffee shops

Have you ever found a place where your soul just feels complete? I don’t mean the feeling after a good sermon, but when you find something that resonates with who you are?

Well I found that place. And no, it isn’t church.

Don’t get me wrong, I grew up going to church and felt strong in my convictions, but the people and the atmosphere never brought continual emotion to me. It felt like it was the right thing to do.

Growing up and making the decision to not go to church anymore was like telling my mother her cooking was horrible (it’s not, but if I told her that it’d be scary). For me, music resonates with me.

I am sitting in my favorite coffee shop in town, surrounded by a multitude of different people all brought together by one thing: music.

This little hole-in-the-wall place is something else. You walk in and there is atmosphere. The coffee is an experience, the staff is great, and the guy playing guitar seals the deal.

It is not often that something moves me to write, let alone purge my soul, but all of this is simply breathtaking. To witness the human experience in action, to see people brought together to listen to a local band, well it’s simply magic.

The music itself is cool. There’s so much passion in the musicians’ eyes and you can tell they love what they do. They’re inspired by their love for music, not tainted by greed or the pursuit of fame. They love what they do.

The people here come in all different forms. There’s a guy here rocking his fedora and a cocktail, a guy rocking his frat-tastic clothing, and women in cardigans and dresses. It’s corny, but I love it.

I love introducing friends to other friends and seeing the human experience, it fills my soul.

This post was kind of a soul purge, but thank you for reading!