9 Days in Counting

...And this day is proving to be an especially hard one. For a swift moment in time, I allowed myself to peek into my hidden anxiety, and I have to say I am very sad.

My wedding is in 9 days. In 9 days I will be a 20 year old wife. In nine days I will be starting in on a whole new life, a secure life. In nine days I will be promising to love and cherish someone for the rest of my life. And in 9 days, my mom will still not be here.

Today, at work, I talked to my boss because I have been having bouts of dizzy spells for the past three days, ridiculous dizzy spells. It never really set in that this was my wedding I'm planning because I never let it set in, but as the days draw nearer, I am realizing that is my dress in the closet, those are my flowers, my shoes, my candles, my table cloths. All of it is mine for my wedding. I keep pushing those thoughts under the rug as soon as they settle in though, and when I told my boss about the dizzy spells, informing him that I do have sinus problems, though I'm not feeling much right now, he asked me about stress and anxiety...

Stress and anxiety? I chewed on that for about 30 seconds before I apprehensively admitted to having them both. In that same moment, I realized I have been refusing to think about this wedding as my own for one reason. If I dwell on the fact that this is my wedding, it will eventually lead into the thought that my mom is gone. Somewhere along the line, I refused to associate my wedding with my mom's death because I want the day to be happy. It doesn't help that my mom's death anniversary is two weeks away from the wedding and that this is only the second year since she died or that I am only 20 years old. I knew all of that when I started planning the wedding, though, so it is no fault but my own.

However, I have had a constant headache for about a week now. I have been losing sleep or not sleeping well. I have been reverting to many of my old controlling ways. I have been having more arguments with my fiance. I have had much more tension in my shoulders. I have had a lot more neck pain. I have lost my ability to focus, and I have all but put my relationship with God on the back burner. I'm still showering and cleaning my house, but with those to facts exempt, these are all my tell tale signs of missing my mom.

There is a huge part of me right now that is terrified of admitting that. I am terrified that if I allow myself to be sad right now in the midst of all the chaos, I will lose sight of what is happening in my life. Even more so, I am afraid of having the depression set back into my life and take control of me again because I do not take medication for depression. I don't ever want to be back in that place again. So somewhere along the line, I started refusing to allow myself to talk or think about my mom in relation to my wedding. When I realized that thinking about the wedding itself brought on anxiety, I went on planning the wedding as if it were not truly my own. It hasn't been until this week that I have truly felt like this was my wedding.

I tend to over analyze everything, even more so when I am dealing with anxiety and stress. Every step of the way, I have over analyzed people's opinions, feelings, emotions, etc about this wedding to the point that it became not my own but a pile of what other people want. Yesterday, I think the woman that is making our cake for us as our gift got frustrated with me because I was so laid back about how she did the cake. She was looking for some real decision, and I was giving her pretty much free reign as long as the cake looked like it belonged at a fall wedding. At one point she jokingly said to me, "I'll just do whatever I want then since you don't care." It has come to a point where I feel like I can't make any decisions without asking someone else. It is such a strange surreal feeling.

What really brought all of this on and to the forefront was not my questions about my dizziness, though. Since I work for a new business, we need to do an open house. We need to get people in to see what we're all about. During our meeting today, we were going over details for the Open House, and we had to choose a date. The dates were between September 19th and September 26th, and the moment I heard the former date, my heart sunk into my stomach. The former date is the 2 year anniversary of the day my family lost our mother. I didn't realize I even felt any anxiety about it until that point. I had honestly hoped to not even bring it up at work, to keep it to myself so I wouldn't have to explain myself, but I couldn't do that. I gained a little composure, and through a shaky voice asked them if we could do it the 26th instead because that is my mom's death anniversary. Everyone agreed and moved on quickly, but I have not been able to get my thoughts off the way I felt when I was asked to work an Open House the day my mom had died.

I don't know how the next 8 days will go. I do know that I cannot ignore my pain, though. My problem now is finding that outlet that is healthy and does not send me into a downward spiral.

Burned

Oh yeah! That's right! I burned over 300 calories today, probably over 400! The scale even reported (faultily or not) that I had lost 2.5 pounds! So the past week and a half of vigorous...OK, not so much vigorous, but toning exercises seems to be paying off. I walked 2.5 miles on the treadmill and burned 361 calories just while I was on there. I am truly thrilled about this. When I first started the gym, about a month and a week ago, I could barely get to walking three miles on the treadmill, and I certainly was nowhere near the 5% incline I was at today. I love feeling the results, being able to hold my stomach in and feel the muscles all over my body get tighter. I just keep imagining my wedding day and my honeymoon, feeling healthy and happy. From there, I imagine my life and my family, and I imagine living a long healthy life because of the choices I am making now.

Today, I spent an hour and a half on the phone with a very nice, knowledgeable man from AT&T. All I wanted to do was switch my cable and Internet company from the one I have to theirs. He was very nice, and every time there was a pause or the computer was moving slow, he asked questions about my family and such. I learned quite a lot about this man. He was born in California and moved to St. Louis when he was 11, going on 12. When they went to St. Louis, they were going so he could meet family of his, and they just ended up staying. He wishes he could travel...Ooh, he wishes he could travel. He would like to go back to California. He is about 25 or 26 years old. His name is Jamal. His mother can install her own cable and Internet and she is nearly 60. This tidbit I was informed of to reassure me that I could not mess this installation up. I shared a tidbit with him that I was sure I could mess this installation up. He too is not too impressed with St. Louis, and again, he would love to travel. :o) It wasn't necessarily a bad time on the phone, just a very long time. However, if anyone ever has to call AT&T, I highly recommend you ask for Jamal in St. Louis, as long as you have some time.

I am starting grief counseling with my sister on Thursday this week. My mom died about a year and a half ago from complications with metastatic breast cancer that spread to her liver. This whole week, though it has only technically been three days, has been a very down week. I am getting very anxious about this grief counseling because as each day passes, I am realizing just how much is still not dealt with. I don't even know if I would say it isn't dealt with. I just realize that I go a few months being very happy and content, and then there is a crash where I realize my mom is not here anymore. I never feel more alone than when I wake up in the middle of the night and realize she has been gone so long. Somehow, the dreams where she is alive and healthy seem to make it hurt worse. I was reading a book last night that explained exactly how it feels. This is an excerpt from Kate Jacob's book Friday Night Knitting Club:

"She moaned to herself as her mind raced through the last fifteen years of her life, always leaving her with the same conclusion: Stan was dead. Really gone. And she still here, alone.

Groggy, Anita remained motionless in her bed, staring at the ceiling. How many times had she had that dream? The grief seemed to cycle in endless phases; sometimes she dreamed about Stan night after night, and other times months would pass between seeing him in her sleeping hours. And then the dream would return. Always it was the same-Stan was alive!-and always the waking reality was the same: Anita was a widow.

She would see him in the living room, on the street, at a party. The sequence never altered-the shock at the sight of him, the embarrassment over her mistake-what sort of wife would believe her husband was dead when he was right there in front of her?-then the intense relief that left her wanting to fall to her knees and thank God that he was still alive.

It seemed so real. Each and every time. She felt stupid when she woke up, but everything seemed so logical in the dream. So matter-of-fact. Anita would tell Stan how she had worried, and he would laugh and call her his sweetheart and she would feel so goddamned overwhelmed that his supposed death had all been a misunderstanding. Of course it was! Everything was okay! And that meeting, the moment of talking with Stan, would be so raw and exciting and truly perfect that she would be enveloped by a happiness beyond any she had ever imagined.

The feeling was pure joy.

Just at that instant she would awaken, right when she had sorted through all the possibilities and come to the conclusion that yes, Stan was alive, and all was right again."

-Jacobs, Kate. The Friday Night Knitting Club. New York: G.P. Putnam's Sons, 2007.

Even though this character had lost her husband, I feel exactly the same way as I awake from a dream about my mom being alive and healthy. If I could just see her in Heaven, it would not hurt so badly, but I think that would ruin the concept of faith, not that I have an issue with that concept. I understand why I can't just see her in Heaven, but I will be the first to say that it sucks.

Broken Humor Spot

Well, every time I sit down and think of blogging, I end up going to another website. My brain has been broken for a few days now, and I am forcing myself to somewhat remedy this issue now, before it gets out of control. So, here it goes...

A young man, around 30 years-old, died in my building the other day. He was epileptic, but I really don't know if that has anything to do with his death. His father found him dead in his apartment on Friday morning. When I went home for my lunch break at 11:30 am on Friday morning, I pulled my fiance's truck into our parking lot while on the phone with my big sister. I was shocked to see a police car parked by the dumpster, and two ambulances taking up my half of the parking lot. I parked on the other side, but as I was pulling in, the four EMTs and the police officer just looked at me. They stopped talking momentarily and just stared at me. I felt weird just from the way they looked at me, but I parked the truck and got out. I walked past the EMTs and no one said a word to me. I got to the door, and a man in farm clothes was standing in the doorway with my elderly neighbor. I didn't recognize him, and they just stood in the doorway. The whole time, I never got off my phone, and I surely never asked what was going on. I just assumed if they didn't feel the need to prevent me from walking through the scene, it couldn't have been too big a deal.

It was obviously a big deal. I found out later that man standing in the doorway was the young man's father. I will never forget the way he looked at me when I said, "Excuse me." I didn't say it rudely, but in his state, I think he was shocked that I was walking anywhere near him. Again, no one felt any need to warn me about what I was walking into.

I was only home about half an hour, making sandwiches for my fiance and myself, before I left to have lunch with my fiance. When I was walking out the door, the EMTs were walking into this young man's apartment. They didn't have a stretcher; they only had small metal suitcases. I knew the young man was epileptic, and since no one seemed to be in any hurry, I just assumed he had a seizure and they were making sure he was stable again.

I went back to work after lunch and hadn't heard any different than what I had assumed until just as we were locking the doors at my job. My sister had tried to call me, but we weren't officially closed yet. I didn't answer, so she sent me a text message so I at least was aware of what was happening before I went back home. I swear the wind leaped out of my lungs. In a moment, I felt so much shock. After I caught my breath, I called my fiance to explain the situation. All he had known was what I told him over our lunch break, and he told me he had just talked to the young man the night before for about half an hour.

When I arrived back home that evening, I just started bawling. I could hardly walk through the door without being overwhelmed with the feeling that I wanted to vomit. I just couldn't handle the fact that he had died in what felt like was right under my nose. I hated that I couldn't have changed it, and I hated that he was dying in their alone as I was walking in and out the door. I still hate it, but I have had a few days to process. I had a low key weekend, which was really good. I just wasn't sure how to blog because I wasn't emotionally ready to blog about happy, funny things.

Ever since my mom died a little over a year and a half ago, my perspective on death has changed. I deal with different situations differently, but it seems as though death affects me very deeply now, no matter what situation. My heart just cries out for the families that have to deal with the death because I know how awful I felt, and sometimes still feel, after my mom died. I miss her terribly, and I hate that other families have to deal with that kind of pain.

In a few days or so, when I get some more time, I will post something more light hearted about my weekend. It was my fiance's and my two year anniversary today, and we had a wonderful peaceful time yesterday doing absolutely nothing of great significance. :0) I have also been continually planning our Ireland honeymoon, and I am finally ready to get a running budget. We are getting our passport info turned in tomorrow, and I think this is all really going to be happening. It is truly the most exciting roller coaster I have ever been on.

Let Down...

Well, Big T called the bank today to give them the exact amount we needed for our trip, and they said they could only give him half of that. I am really upset right now. I feel like the air was let out of me, and I want to melt into the floor. I won't, though. I e-mailed my contacts that were helping me plan the trip, and I am going to see if we can cut the trip in half and go for one week. I don't know if it is even going to be possible, but I am still holding onto some hope.

I'm going to take a shower to distract myself. Otherwise I will keep pressing the refresh button on my e-mail page every three seconds, as if my contacts don't have their own lives. I just hate feeling so deflated. I'll let you all know how this progresses.

Empathy

Lately, I have been hearing lots of stories of loss, and it is really weighing on my heart. I realize that people die every day, but some of those people got the chance to live long, healthy lives. Sometimes, those people got to say goodbye to their loved ones. Sometimes, those people had their affairs in order, and sometimes the loss of those people was not unexpected or sudden. In all the cases in which those things are not true, there is so much more unfair pain. It is just truly painful to lose someone you love so quickly.

I know in some of my blogs recently, I have been sharing with you all some of the desires of my heart, some of my desires to get married and have children of my own. Recently, though, I have been reminded of infant fatalities and people losing their babies. I know I have never experienced motherhood or pregnancy for that matter, but my heart strings are really pulled at the thought of losing a baby. I want a baby so badly, and I at least have the understanding of that desire to have a baby, that I can only imagine how crushed I would be if something happened to my precious baby, the baby that I wanted so much. Along with that, I am also reminded of how many women can not have babies. That too is heart wrenching. I cannot imagine, and I hope I never will have to experience having my desire to have a baby of my own crushed. I have an immense desire to be some one's mother, to hold their hand as they learn to walk, to coddle them when they cry out in pain, to kiss their scrapes when they fall, and even to become utterly frustrated with them when they hate me as teenagers, just so long as I get to live long enough to see them grow and mature into adults, knowing what a large part I played in creating them.

I have not only been reminded of losing infants. I have been reminded of losing mothers, fathers, friends and siblings. Sometimes in my life, when I have not consciously thought of my mom and the loss I experienced, God discreetly begins to remind me that it is OK to think about how much I miss her. I love that I can be a shoulder to cry on for so many others that lose their loved ones, and I love that I can let other people know they are not alone. That does not mean that I should forget my own pains.

In my own ideal dream world, everyone would get to live a long, healthy, prosperous life. They would get to know God and know their place in Heaven is secured. Then, when their life has been lived to the max, they could pass peacefully into another state of being with their Father. Their family could all be around them, and that person would remain conscious and alive until every family member that needed to be there had the opportunity to be there and say goodbye. That person could pass on their advice and love to those they cared for, and there would be no pain in dying. We could then celebrate this person's wonderful, healthy life and continue in our own lives knowing we would see them again soon.

I do apologize if I have stirred up sadness in any of your hearts, but I want to remind all of you to allow yourselves to feel the pain when it needs to be felt. Please do not ignore it and expect it to go dormant. My heart goes out to you all, and please remember that you are not alone.

Meltdown

So I have already had my morning meltdown minutes into my workday. My boss came over to the teller line to inform me that our Commercial Lender had been let go as part of the bank's efforts to downsize and save money. They say it is all for the good of the customers, but I honestly believe our customers will be enraged at the loss of this woman. She dealt with all of our big farm customers and had established relationships with her customers. I just could not handle it. My absolute rage came out in tears, and my boss told me that she completely understood my views but she had had a few days to take it all in (her explanation as to why I was crying and she wasn't). This had nothing to do with my bosses, either. They are not the ones that make that decision. It is the higher ups, the CEO and vice presidents that make these decisions. Fantastic, right?! I told the other girls here that I honestly, with all my heart, wish they would have let me go instead of this woman, but my measly $600.00 a month that I scrape in part time is nothing compared to the salaries of the commercial lenders. My boss also informed me that she will receive a severance pay, but I still don't feel better. It is still CRAP!

I have had my very first bottle of wine with an actual cork, ever! I was really in the mood for a nice red wine, so I sent Big T to the store to pick one out for me. I had one in mind, and the only reason I wanted it was because the label was neat. :) I am not the wino I want to be because I am not old enough yet, so I don't know anything about a good wine or how to choose one from a local grocery store. All that being said, it was a very strong wine, 14% alcohol, and it was very warm. The bottle is a total keeper, too. I can't wait to use it as a decoration in my kitchen with the rest of my fat Italian men decorations. The bottle is green, so it's not one of those cheap glass bottles that would look tacky in my kitchen. HAHA! I can't figure out how to rotate my pictures, so I appologize for the tacky, "I don't know how to blog" look.

That is pretty much all the happenings of my life right now. I have been working away at the little bit of homework I have, and I have my first exam over four chapters this weekend. It's timed, but I have taken notes and read all the chapters, which is a huge step in the right direction for me. Two classes is working out so much better than four. It is so much less stressful and easier to convince myself to do the work. This weekend should be a pretty quiet one for me. I have no plans besides working for three hours tomorrow and Sunday school, which I fully intend to be on time for this weekend. I'm hoping to get all caught up on homework and make lots more hats. I have more time for hats, now, but I also wanted to start a baby blue afghan for the girl that is having a baby. I had already started a girl one, but that is on hold until someone has a girl. :) I hope you all are having lovely weeks with little disappointment and much familial joy. When the times get tough, try to remember all the wonderful things you do have instead of those you are without. That's hard for me, but I'm giving it a shot. :)

Engulfed

Is there not a fire around all of us?
We are trying frantically to get out.
We know this is killing us.
We know we need to find a different way.
We are suffocating.
It's just to hard to go on.
Where is everyone?
I need someone to help me.
Why would they leave me when I need them the most?
We lay down.
We accept our fate.
It hurts...
But it will all be over soon.
-In Memory of Madisyn Moore and Shanna Radakovich

Sometimes life can feel so overwhelming that I just want to give up. Today sort of feels like one of those days. I feel as though I envision someone else's sorrow so much and imagine how exactly I would feel if it were me in their place that I end up feeling as though I had gone through their exact situation. Today, I am exhausted. I couldn't tell you what I dreamt about last night, but I woke up thinking about Madisyn and Shanna. I didn't know these girls, but I can't stop my imagination from running, thinking about their lives, their friends, their thoughts, what they wanted to do in life, what they had been talking about at their sleep over, any angle my head comes up with. I feel sick with grief, for their mothers especially.

This past week, I have heard of four deaths in this small community. People are going to die every day, people all over the world. There is nothing I can do to stop that. However, I deeply wish that I could stop the amount of pain that results from the trauma of a death. No one deserves to live with the questions, the guilts, the what ifs, and no one deserves to feel so helpless and worthless as they sometimes do when they lose someone.

Today, my soul sits inside my body, weeping for those that are about to experience some of the most tumultuous times of their lives. I wish I could join my soul in the abyss that is inside me, but I have to keep moving, if for nothing else, than for fear of losing myself again.