Category Archives: PTSD

My Value

The news is everywhere,the horrible things being said daily by people, tragedies and worry. I decided to take a bit of a break, shut off the world and get to know myself again.

I needed a break, my way of picking and choosing what I would like to hear. Work has been consuming me, my energy low, and I have been spending time by myself to help me strengthen my soul to get me through, all the memories. I needed to find myself, she was starting to disappear again, and I know it wasn’t on a great vacation.

I decided to re-embrace the things that I seem to really enjoy and learn more of what I could. With it being October, I wrapped myself up into decorating the inside and out of my home, working on reading my mysteries, a thanksgiving weekend adventure with the pup and Mr. Jones to see the kids, a stay in a cabin, learning my new cricut (so excited, Mr. Jones bought it for my birthday!)  and looking at everything through a lens.

The pup has been my inspiration and I was reminding myself that so much is still a first for her. As we begin a new season and are watching the leaves falling and then the usual early first fall of snow, she is mesmerized.

I wrapped myself up in taking hundreds of pictures of her and pouring over them, every detail, every feeling; posting them into my personal accounts to share with my family and friends. This was my outlet for my emotions, while I took a break from writing.

Recently someone had asked me who I love the most, my first answer was me, as I have been working hard to learn that and then realized what she was getting at. The beautiful endless photos of someone’s nose, sleepy eyes and energy all being shared. My answer was simple; she (my pup) helps me so much.

This month brought on another first for her and I; I wanted to give her a great gift of just being a dog, socializing and getting to run and play with other pups. When I first began the application and assessment, I was fearful, fearful on how would I be without her? How can I trust someone else? What if? I reminded myself over and over this month to have faith.

Her first day, was hard as stressors had become high and of course a phone call or two were in order to check on her. She loved it and to see her face light up at getting to play with new friends and then the excitement and light up when she sees me to pick her up, made me teary eyed. She is happy, she even seems to smile a lot.

Her happiness, helped increase my value as well. I have been functioning efficiently,  some stressors with my girl caused a bit of a downturn, but it was wonderful to see it change for the better. She too, was dealing with anxiety and I kept praying over the years she would not have to deal with those lovely family genes that have passed all this down.

I am so proud of her, she is strong and immediately looked for help. Sometimes life smacks us in the face to make us stop and give more value to ourselves. How do we keep forgetting is the real question? So well this is a whole another area of hmmmm and thought provoking, I decided I would share a few of the photos I took the past two months. Each photo feels like a piece of my heart is in each one I take. The emotion it creates brings the feeling of a hippo sitting on my chest of happiness, sadness, and sheer joy. It’s overwhelming!  It is just an entanglement of so much more.

I made that new bed for her as the other one somehow was eaten.

She does do more than sleep, but that smushed up, wrinkled up face, just makes me want to smooch it and yell she’s so fluffy! I feel like that little girl in Despicable Me, she has so much emotion at times and the rest of the time, it is like she is hiding it, masking it. (Mr. Jones took the photo of her looking out the window, I just love it).

After an outside adventure of decorating for Halloween, and the pup not sure of some of the decorations; this included big eyes of what the heck and a few growls, I actually finally felt bored. It was awesome! I cannot seem to remember the last time I felt like that, so for me, it was a blessing. My mind is normally going, there is always so much work to do mentally, that it feels wonderful to just hang and be.

I hope you enjoyed some of the many photos I have been taking and I think I may start to venture out again and take a class to help me build and grow in this area. I have always loved photographs as a kid and loved to look at other’s albums. It’s a moment that stands still in my memory. Each picture is worth so much more.

Love always, the picture obsessed, bored, Woman in Process

The Podcast

The podcast opens up with the details of situations that so many are living with, it begins a 911 call for domestic abuse. A young girl, aged 12 was crying and terrified of what her father was doing to her mother.

As I listen to this, there are so many emotions that flood over you like a tidal wave; sadness, anger of how someone who is suppose to love and protect you could do this. It takes me back to friends who had lived this nightmare, day after day. Mother was abused, beaten, kids were away from school because they were beat black and blue, it took a long time for things to change for the better and for their lives, for their lives to start again in a true loving environment.

I entered the kitchen and the look on Mr. Jones face was one I had only seen a few times. I asked are you okay, and he shakes his head no. Then tells me you need to hear the podcast by Sword and Scale, and explains a bit. He is so shook up, sad, and crying.

He sits down for a bit, and my husband begins to talk of a day in pieces. He says the little girl was 12, and she was so frightened. I remember being that frightened. I knew stories of his childhood, but not all the details as they have been buried inside him for so long. Layers upon layers of emotions, years of his anger and sadness all packed up in his mind.

I just sat and held him for a bit, and now so much more has come to an understanding with me. There was so much he made a reference to, or you would hear an occasional story, a snippet, but this was way more. The frightened little boy inside him, could relate to this little girl and the horror story she was living.

When Mr. Jones had asked me to listen to it, I knew I needed to, for him. So much was said without him having to relive those days in his own words.

With my job, this is unfortunately an area that I wished I could say didn’t happen, but when people rent a room for the night, they believe it is their complete home and things happen anywhere to these families dealing with abuse. Mothers or fathers that are trying to keep their children safe from the abuser and are doing what they have to, to survive, to continue living, to be the loving parent, the protector with everything they can, sometimes their own lives.

As my daughter has been working on this area in her studies at university, she has been able to give us the stats of these high numbers that blew me away. I do not understand why and think of my husband’s father, and alcohol was a factor. I never met the man, as Mr. Jones and his brother threw him out as teenagers and cut all ties.

I am grateful that my daughter did not have to live through that, and as Mr. Jones is getting older at times there are things that still surprise me from his life. Someone I know so well for over twenty years, shows me there are still areas to learn about. I am happy that he obviously feels safe and that he can share now.

I think this year of sharing and finally opening up on what I see, has made it more comfortable for him to open up. I hope it is and if not, whatever has engaged him to share, my ears are open to listen, to be there. At one point he tugged on my ear, something his mum did to him all the time, he misses her very much.

If you can, listen to the podcast, be a friend for those in need. Her words at the end made me sit up and say, oh my. As the numbers of domestic abuse seems to keep growing, I question how do we change this? What can be taught? Why is it growing so? I know these are questions I will be asking those who assist in creating a home for  those who make their way their, while they prepare themselves for the next phase. The real question is how can I help?

With the season of joy and love coming, I remind you not all are experiencing that feeling. Trust your instincts, help someone in need, give of your possessions to others who may be starting over and $2.00 from each of us, together we can make a difference for someone.

 

Love always the grateful, blessed, heart aching, Woman in Process

 

My Dad

As I stand behind him taking pictures, I am working on etching each one into my memory banks. He has no idea that I am taking pictures behind him and why that I am, I never say. I have pictures from over the years, but not enough.

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This past weekend my dad turned eighty. He looks fabulous, still a shaking, rattling and rolling dancing man on the farm, tinkering and making endless lists of things he is planning on doing.  I know life will one day change for all of us, and it is one of my biggest fears. It feels like yesterday that I put fifty candles on a cake and carried it down the stairs singing. The top of it, became a skating rink of pink and orange wax and we laughed that we would begin using the number candles in the future. It was a ball of flame, and the heat was intense.

Even now, trying to blow out the scented candle to refresh the house, I struggle and it’s one wick, possibly three. Our years take a tole on our bodies, inside and out, yet our minds are still the same, the same thoughts, ideas and grand adventures we have planned, plotted, organized, assessed and reassessed.

We think of how our lives are going to turn out, we plan, we work hard and sometimes things don’t go the way we see it, and we start over again, sometimes again and again. I then think about the journey of life; a trip. We start our trip, break in between, start again and the reality is we never finish. We are always on a fresh start, didn’t matter if I had just completed the same task, the timing has changed. It is always a grand new adventure.

As I see him and my mum, starting to adventure a bit more, it makes me happy that they are still able to look for an adventure, that they keep believing in the adventure and are trying new things. I am a firm believer, it is so good for the creative soul just to try, even if you dislike it, you attempted it and you can add it to the list of accomplishments and not to the, I wish I had tried that, listing.

We all have them, ones where we wish we had made a different choice, where we think something would have made a big impact on our lives. The catch is regardless of the things we think we should do, or missed in our eyes, our path keeps redesigning in front of us and changing until we are on the path we were meant to be on.

Some people may say that’s my witchiness coming out, but I am a firm believer. Today, my choice may not be correct, but I have learned a valuable lesson from that choice and then it recreates to the next path. I didn’t quit and I found a new path that maybe I had not considered.

As I write this, the coffee shop is full of people and I am breaking from the errands I am running. Each of them on a path or destiny, some very unhappy and some just content with life at this time, enjoying their “Be”.

Now I think back to where I fit in at this moment. Am I experiencing contentment? I don’t believe so. I am looking for my inner strength at this time. The part that makes my emotions hit the top of the roller coaster and I am ready for the stomach to fly in the downwards movement and the excitement of life.

The rain has turned to snow and the sadness of the day reminds me of what will come again. Each season, another birthday, (just saying start shopping, it’s in 30 days, let the countdown begin!) and another stage of life. Some days I don’t believe I have this one mastered but I keep getting another day to practice; thank you for my practice days.

When I look at the pictures my dad was enjoying, in each one, he saw the growth of the same bear and deer in them, continuous changes to seasons, waterfalls and the environment. The paintings were the complete symbolism of life in general and I hear a lot of people that question, what’s next or where do I go from here?

Thinking to a year ago, the feeling of standing in a group of people in a room, I was shaking, my mind rushing and felt explosive of so many details of PTSD, that over intensified my being. Fast forward to the homework I have been doing and the same event a year later, I could smile, talk to people, was happy to be there, but maybe I should have rethought my three inch heels. But man they make my legs look good! I will take it as some days a slipper is too much too wear with my gnarled up witch feet.

I am on the path I am suppose to be, and the one before of intense physical and emotional challenges, was also my path. I know some people may says it’s bad luck, but I don’t believe in that. I believe in my guiding hand who has hung onto me while I was drowning and swimming for shore, which showed me strength. They kept me afloat and kept taking me hand in their hand, to each beautiful creation of life’s moments and would say look at it! Open your eyes!

My eyes are open and sometimes still teary as I get over emotional. The past two weeks we have been talking, reviewing and trying to create a philantrophy project. The wheelchair that was Tim the tool man Taylor tinkered up for an event that just took place made me cry. People I know and don’t know, said yes I will help, here you go, this is donated and were so giving.

The people that think I have made a difference on them, I laugh, and say thank you, but you all have made a difference to me. Now as I am bawling in the coffee shop it may be time to take my leave and finish my writing elsewhere. My caramel macchiato is just so good, it makes me emotional! Let’s just be honest, I’m crying because life is truly good, bad, horrific, sad, and intense. Sounds like a first date!

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As I am reviewing my blog for posting, it still was not exactly what I wanted in my head and I find I keep rewriting. I have decided that it’s fine for today and my inner critic needs to go to sleep as its cutting into your shopping days. So here is what I ask for my birthday.

I am asking if you all could do one good deed, pay it forward, make someone smile and be inspirational to someone for my birthday. I would love to hear what you did, and remember that could be the path that you were meant to be on, you never know what could be someone’s inspiration that day.

Love always, the path walking, please don’t snow on my path, dad loving, Woman in Process

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Hormonal Witch?

It’s late as I sit in my bed listening to the sounds of the pup falling into a deep somber sleep and begin to put together the day.

After wrapping myself up (floating rib),I ventured out with the pup for a walk and to feel the change of the season on my skin. The cool feelings it creates, the shiver it brings down my spine and an appreciation of the beauty of the season.

We walk through the neighbourhood, watch three deer, that was a highlight for the pup as I tell her those are beautiful creatures and we need to appreciate their beauty and not harm her and her babies. We watched them, she was calm and content, then walk a few feet more and sit down again.

I didn’t want her to get too close and we just happen to be on the same block. Eventually we were at a corner and they went one way and us another. The sun was starting to set, and we opted for the final leg back on the trails. I have been suffering from more anxiety attacks and anger lately. It feels as though there is a volcano erupting inside me. I’m going to blame it on hormones, but feel that is only one aspect of it.

As we walk, I start to shake more and the trail is not that busy, I hear voices a few times in the area and immediately my heart takes off and I feel as though I want to run for my life. I thought things were getting better?

I realize it means I have underlying items to look at and believe I know what it is. I have opened up so much, and there is this fear of where I am. Not necessarily of anything bad more like I’m doing great and then when I hear something or things go sideways a bit I begin to feel down, worthless and my inner critic pokes at me till I cry.

I have been dealing with some hurt right now inside, and I can tell I am off as the pup follows suit. I was beginning to think she wasn’t feeling well then realized she is feeding off me. She is feeling what I feel. She is being the defiant, fighty, bitey, emotional instigator, to the rage of my volcano of what I am holding back. Holding back because I’m afraid of the eruption and afraid of the outcome.

I use to say not to hurt my feeler to people when I was growing up, that I had one, it was a running joke. The catch is I have so many and people forget at times that we are all just human. We make mistakes, we work hard, we try to enjoy life and somewhere something sticks with us as if we were in grade school and the kids were yelling you had cooties.

The devastation we felt from the taunting, the fear of not fitting in and the fear of no one ever being our friend made us wear the frowns on our face behind the smothered smiles that the shit was all good.

My reflection and tears were soul searching and we decided to clear our heads a bit as we have been practicing running. Practicing you say? Little miss is still in a phase where she thinks if you run, she is suppose to take you down.

So I run, I stop quickly so she is always reading my body, then we go again. She eventually tires from it and puts her teeth on my wrist, the sign that she has had enough. A few more times and we are back to the hill to the house, my sanctuary, my security and the one place where I can be myself completely.

The next few days I am off, sad and happy from one extreme to the next. I really do feel like a roller coaster and put my attention to tasks at work and home. I tear up a few times, my self critic was held down under water in the pool,(just in my head) and I am beginning to come out of this rich dense fog I have been living in.

About six months ago I had signed up for another run and it was last night. I had not really been training for it, but I was nervous and excited at the same time. Fear of course is always there and I venture out with my cane wrapped up in hand, as it was a trail run, I was hesitant on taking it but I have to remember my limitations at times.

There were so many people and I kept myself away from the constant chatter, put my headphones in and focused. I got this, I tell myself. When the countdown is on, I turn to my friend and said see you in a bit and begin to find my pace. A little tougher when so many have the same pace as I. I ran, I sang and I hit the downhill trail.

The ruts from the forest were intense but I found them intriguing by the life they had. The lack of light in the area, they kept changing, adapting and still growing in their own way. I was feeling more at peace and would run, then walk as my right leg begun its drag, I knew I would have to continue more of a walk, as the terrain was challenging, steep at times but fun.

I found myself alone and pulled my earphones out so I could listen to the sounds of the trees and what they had to say. As I did this I found my head beginning a conversation with the big guy upstairs. I laughed later when thinking back as I had been praying for strength to keep me going, determination and to help release the anger that I feel inside. I also had asked for the ability to keep the ms at bay so I could make it in, and I didn’t want to quit. Plus I had no clue where I was in the forest or how to get back, please keep me safe.

I stumble down a hill and see a lady limping, she had rolled her ankle and heard a crack. I offer her my cane and the confused look summed it up and I explained, I had to take it just in case my ms decided something else. She didn’t want to leave me without it, but I insisted or the poor girl would have more challenge getting up some areas. We chatted a bit more and we bid our good lucks and to see each other at the finish line. Back into my zone I go.

My watch is telling me I am at 5km, and the end is near. Around the curve back to the pavement, I asked one more time for strength to bring it in. I was embraced with a gust of energy and ran my way into the end. I had completed it! I did it!

I walked away and was overcome with the feelings inside, the physical tiredness and now my body was shutting down. I found a great spot with with my meal under the tree and sat, content with myself.

It was time to head home and after getting my cane back, I walked to the car with my friend and laughed at it all. We did take the before and after shots as well, just to prove we were there. The catch is the feelings I have is enough for me.

I sneak into the house, as Mr. Jones and the pup are in the back yard and leave my muddy shoes on my feet as I collapse in the chair. I sit there crying, I am more blessed and grateful again for the struggle, the challenge and the feeling of accomplishment. Each time it gives me a better sense of self.

Mr. Jones realizes I am home and comes to help get my shoes off, my gear and gives me a kiss on my sweaty forehead. All night I was in awe and would say I did it, he says you sure did and smiles.

This was another adventure, and the beginning of a new phase, like fall I seem to be changing at a great rate, I just didn’t realize how much, even when things were set back, I was still growing. I have learned a lot about myself this past year and am curious what the next year brings.

I hope your adventures this weekend give you a great sense of self respect, love and kindness to others.

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Love always, the blistered, smiling, Quasimodo, Woman in Process

Speed of Light

The weeks are flying by, one of the girls tells me it’s Friday and I happy dance. They are all a blur, and I wonder why this is? Have I been putting too much in a week, have I not spent the time reflecting, what makes it feel as though my grains of sand are flittering to the bottom of an hourglass faster than I like.

It has put me into a pickle and I have been trying to work through a few setbacks, so for now, until I can feel like I am functioning, which may only be a few days or another couple weeks. I will be under construction. My thoughts are all over, I am unable to focus and harness my energy into the issues I am feeling, so I believe a small break of nothing is in order to get myself over the hump and see what comes out of this.

imageLove always, the under construction Woman in Process

Attitude

I finally slept! First time in a week! I felt as though the Angel’s harps were playing as I arise and begin my day with a lightness to life. It’s glorious and I am grateful to finally feel like this.

As I put on my favourite Beetlejuice outfit, black and white, with an orange jacket and my witch shoes; I am excited to head in, feeling great, ready to take on the day. I rock out in Mrs. Toad’s Wild Ride, (yes, my car is named) with the music loud and heavy, it matches how I have been feeling.

I pull into my destination, the base shaking my body, my head nodding to the beat and feeling as though I can accomplish anything! Uhhh, I spoke to soon. I was feeling, the only word I can think of is sassy; that intense combination of attitude, sharpness, brain on overdrive and the wit of sharp comments.

It kept progressing through the day, but the sharpness of the sassy, began to take over. I began to question where was Mars? I know you think, what? I have been reading up on my sign and how the travelling in and out of Mars, the moons and the alignment impact me. As I read this book for the first time, I really had an open eye and could see the past, the future and the current, drawn out perfectly to how I function. It was a knowledge I only dabbled in before, I am now tuning in to it more to decipher myself.

Anyways, I had issues and crap hit the fan, like everyday life, the catch I kept my sassy to a select few and did not handle any issues directly. I was worried what may come out, or me telling someone I will turn them into a toad, wouldn’t be professional; even though I was thinking it still.

I had spunk, spirit and was alive. I feel this passion inside me like I want to explode! You know the feeling you get when you see a new puppy, and you could just eat them up, not literally! You have this intenseness of love, cuteness, overwhelmingness? That is how I feel so much lately. I have a sharper smile, almost scary, I have this rumble and growl about me and I feel empowered.

The next day was a therapy session and at one point something that took place kind of put me into a different element. It impacted me, but also impacted me differently. I was able to recognize, how I am taking back my independence, (words from a friend) and am going to stretch the next session longer in between.

I am feeling even more like I don’t have to have my training wheels on, I can hold myself up, I don’t need the skating guide, I can flip and turn and twist. I think I may be in a state that I can keep going more on my own, I may be ready for my solo performance. Maybe, I have been ready for a while and this was the push or moment for me to see it.

I’m sure I will require an oil change or tune up at times, but I am starting to see myself functioning so much more. I have creativity exercises consistently, I keep working on crafts, home improvements and am taking things to a new level of love.

The things I normally wish I would say to people, I do, and I see a new surprise from those when I do. I am being me. Good old, not too old, sarcastic, dry, belly laughing, wacky faces, dance off, crazy person that I am. I am being the real version of her. It feels pretty damn awesome, and I know there may be bricks that I stumble over at times (especially if the pup keeps dragging them out of my gardens for toys), but to get this far, when I thought my life was done, feels pretty great.

I do not know what the next few months will hold for me, I only know I can help be the director in my own life.

After a quick overnight trip away from home, (the pup stayed behind with a babysitter; the middle daughter, I didn’t cry when I left her this time, so awesome!) of football, screaming my aggression out to the field, and the loud, “Hit him!” as they try to take down the quarterback. I took in so many moments of awe.

Awe of being in a stadium of 36000 people there, when months ago I couldn’t go out to the grocery store, accepting a compliment from a stranger and also passing one along, when before I would freeze up or feel overwhelmed. These are just a couple of the strides that have impacted my life from the journey I had begun.

So here is to, the next few months, may they hold continuous learning, growth and passion.

Love always the horse sounding, beaming, Woman in Process

P.S I finally finished the first podcast series of book 1; of My Dad Wrote a Porno; my face was hurting I was laughing so hard; tears running, coughing, spewing my drink out when something caught me off guard, it was hilarious! Maybe I shouldn’t have been driving, but it made the hours for the trip pass. You must check it out!
http://www.mydadwroteaporno.com

You will never see things the same way again!

 

 

 

Bread Sticks & Cheese

When I awoke this morning, I was not myself. The dark clouds of a few nights of not sleeping, stressors and not feeling a sense of release had put my brain and body into a vise clamp. My physical movements were challenged and I had no get up and go, it got up and left, right out the door.

As I send my texts out, I wanted to crawl back into bed and cry for the day. I thought that might make me feel better or I had hoped it would. I sat with my butterscotch Starbucks coffee at the table and the tears just flowed down my face.  I kept telling myself outloud, I am so blessed and Mr. Jones agrees with me. He begins into his Buddha talk, this is what I call it, he is a wise old man.

He tells me, you haven’t been taking the time lately for you, you haven’t been given any, you need to go do your  yoga and see what happens, I’m sure you will feel better. He is so right. I feel blah, meh, grrr and just so many other emotions that rush at me, as if I was at a concert of screaming adolescents filled with testosterone.

I complete the conference call on my duty list, soak in the tub with my peppermint Epson, to aid my mobility and my spirits are telling me I got this. With my mat in hand, I scooch downstairs and get started. My options are yoga for weight loss, uh no get up and go here, Pilates and yoga, hmmm, then I find the one, stress and stretching yoga. We have a winner! It is perfect.

The beginning poses were even more challenging, as I try to keep my balance and move into each pose in sync;  I struggled, I hurt, I cry and I completed it. I bawled through the whole thing, but I believe it was the release of so much pent up energy, too much growing and rebuilding on my shoulders, that of what I have been trying to release.

Even this weekend, after getting my massage in, I am bruised from head to toe, as I had let it go too long in between, yet I know better, but work had been consuming all my energy, I let it consume all my energy and I need to take it back.

Mr. Jones trots down the stairs to check on me and see how I feel. I am better, and sore, he suggests he take me for a walk. I immediately get scared, there is the chance I won’t get far or I will get to one spot and not get back. I figured who cares, he would piggy back me all the way back if he needed to, so I went, one small, slow step in front of the other. I continue to hear the crunching and popping of my bones and body, getting into its proper placement and the sun feels fabulous beating down, today is a perfect fall day.

We didn’t go too far, but again, I went, regardless of my fear. I was played out and slept, for a few hours which was something, I so desperately needed. The smile returned to my face, even through more tears and I spent the day doing nothing, reading, thinking, planning, looking out the window and sitting on the deck with the pup and her cone head. Only one more week to go of it and she will be free!

I appreciated the breeze, the red plaid blanket keeping me warm, the birds eating in the feeder, listening to their fluttering and the sounds of the seeds hitting the ground, the leaves dancing through the air to the grass and the flowers in their last blooms, before they go to sleep, for the long cold winter.

There was so much to be grateful for, and life itself is a blessing. My afternoon face and brain are much more hopeful and softer. I needed the time to reset my body, my brain and give it some time to readjust to the ever changing days. I believe we should honour  a few mental health days every year. Allow ourselves to have a break, with no plans, no duties and no schedules.

After a great toasted sandwich on the deck and having the doomanchew try a dill pickle for the first time, we ventured in to relax for the rest of the evening, clean our rings and add paint to a small mirror. The best part was sharing breadsticks and cheese together, it really is an art to get the right balance of stick and cheese. She thinks so too!

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Doomanchew!

Love always the cheese stick eating, sharing, happier, Woman in Process

P.S did I mention I have another 5km race in a week? The course says not for someone with mobility issues. I laughed, watch me!

 

Broom Riding

I am loading my car, moving the cauldron over to add items in the backseat. You heard that correct, my cauldron and I should specify my car is a toad. (A juke, with big toad eyes). Everything about me is a witch.

As I am finishing my errands, I prepare Mr. Jones with a text that, there may be a few new witch items that may have come home with me. He roars when he sees them, this is me; some new witch shoes, my new cauldron, (mine got broken ten years ago, lord knows the bowl just doesn’t do it justice) and of course a new broom for flying. (Oh and a few new pillow covers, just waiting for the others to arrive).

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I am afraid of heights, but if I am driving, no worries,  I simply rode my broom out of the store. Yup, don’t care the looks I get, I like to laugh. My sister cackled in the background. My whole family cackles, she said we get it from Grandma Little, I can hear her in my head.

For years, I would decorate the inside and out of our place, to the nines for Halloween, we pulled containers of goodies out. We would dress up and I loved making these great big bags of treats for the kids. One year, I just didn’t do much.

My girl took over the reins and worked on the house, my heart wasn’t there, but we still did up the bags. I was usually adjusting to the new season and had taken a few falls that slowed me down. It became depressing what I could not do, I missed seeing, what I could do. The mind is a powerful tool, or a deterrent.

My goal this year is to rock the heck out of my decorations, as I use to and make it so inviting for the youngsters, I can fatten them up. (Yes, I was referencing Hansel and Gretel, but I really wouldn’t put kids in my oven). I will pull my witch hat out, I have several to choose from and always need an excuse to buy another one. We were trying some beauties on this past Saturday.

I like to choose to spend my birthday watching movies (nothing scary, still dealing with PTSD, that is scary enough), and handing out candy. Some sampling is necessary. I love to see the costumes and the faces of excitement.

I am not one for the big Halloween parties that evening, I love the doorbell ringing and hearing the chorus of trick or treat nice and loud. You can hear the kids making ohh sounds, after they collect their treats and we like to make the bags bigger, so if the weather is poor, a few doors to knock on and you are good, no sense in freezing yourself. I remember venturing out with snow up to our knees for candy, (popcorn balls, wagon wheels and sweethearts), old clothes on for my costume and a painted face; I was a clown hobo.

With the MS knocking my balance off, we added a banister, when some renovations took place to the front steps and the first thing I said, was this will be perfect for Halloween, it is now safer. We added the banister for me to get in and out, but Halloween is always my highlight.

So my little ghosts and goblins, I am plotting my decorating, and will see what I have from over the years. I may need to add a piece or two, to make sure I have an excellent creation and flow of the Spooktacular look. I hope it brings a smile to your face, as I know it will mine. I feel the brewing in the pit of my stomach of excitement and life; an anticipation of the season.

I believe this year, I was turning 128 (at this point who knows), it sure feels like it sometimes, as I drag myself around, and other days, I don’t think I am a day over 25!

Be prepared for my official countdown, for the ghosts and goblin’s day and I am sure everything will have some spook reference. Mr. Jones isn’t in for dressing up in a costume, but but we did find him a Nightmare Before Christmas jersey that he wears that each year, and enjoys.

For the pup, I have had many outfits in hand, (Mr. Jones is usually saying, don’t do it!) but I was laughing, I should keep her cone from surgery that she has been wearing and turn her into a martini, so simple and it’s not too hot for hanging out, in her twelve foot window and watch the activity going up and down the street. I can see her tail wagging already.

I am so excited to see her thoughts, as she processes the costumes and the kids, it is her first Halloween! She loves little ones, but I am sure I will be challenged with the candy bowl who (me or her) who hands it out or who eats it more (her). I may have to pull the big camera out and set it up to catch her looks of shock, analysis and excitement.

Is it too soon to decorate now? Sigh! I will wait till after our turkey day, and then the gloves are off!

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Embrace the darkness, for it is you. 

Love always, the Halloween loving, decorating, Woman in Process

 

 

 

 

You Still Grow

It’s black outside while we stand in the middle of the yard. I can hear a vehicle starting, getting ready to head to it’s destination. We stand still, quiet, the pup reviewing the shadows our bodies make on the old white fence.

Plop, plop, she looks around, the rest of the apples are beginning their descent. It is time, it is the first day of a new month; school will be heading back in today. Children will be excited, scared, nervous and I will be constantly checking my speed limit to ensure, I am okay.

The fall drinks, pumpkins and scarecrows will be lining up to engage the customers attention, and in the back areas, the store will be bringing in their Christmas items, in preparation and anticipation of the next four months, the seasons of thankfulness and love.

I love fall, I love Christmas and am nervous this year to get through the next few months. To pass my dates of disasters, to get past my date of my breakdown and to change my thoughts of not remembering or lessening the burden. How do you forget?

Smells, sounds, all still are active and I catch my self breathing heavier trying to adjust, then work on bringing my anxiety level down. My voice may change, I feel the sweats coming on, and my body goes into its panic mode; numbness over comes me.

Here is the catch, I deal with the disasters and stay calm through it all, then once it is complete, I let myself crash down, I had to change it. For so long, for so many years, I would bury it and keep moving forward not dealing with that moment in time, or at least I thought I was moving forward.

That moment of time, in my head became years, it became repetitive and it became a burden to house, and it never paid any rent, it just took life from me, precious, valuable life.

I have this one friend, he has seen his share of disasters, deaths, suicides and is on the other side of hope. He now can speak about the situation with friends, he still nervously laughs and I know how much those affected him; they would affect anyone.

If you notice, I only talk about how I am figuring life back out. I think that is what is so important and not the specifics of each situation. I do have to say, as awful as some things are, I always learned along the way. I learned safety, I learned how calm I am in those situations, and how strong I am. Those are the highlights I want to remember, that is what, I will chose to remember.

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The season as painful as it may be, can also bring me more closure and a bit of a summary or checkpoint on the hard work of the year. It has been over eight months since I returned to my role at work and I have had bumps and bruises along the way. I would focus on them and try to ensure each one was dealt with, I fought hard and feel like this year has been about digging myself out of an early grave, that I was not ready for.

I committed to living life and the past couple months has tested me even harder, as some patterns I would see myself falling into and then worked at changing them. I am a puzzle, one where I am determining how the pieces are fitting together, how they should be cut and getting rid of the border of things, that I do not need that consumed me.

I am proud of myself, I am proud of being more vocal and giving a voice to some who may not have the strength for it. I hope that everyone dealing with these life issues, can find the life raft and hang on. We can change our directions, we can change our thoughts and we can find the life that we desire, that we want.

A friend and I had chatted the other day, I always value those talks even when they are short. She is someone who has seen it all with me, and I do not hesitate to cry or tear with her. I am grateful for that bond. It is different between us and something that is hard to explain. She has her share of life stories and I am proud of who she was able to become from those challenges. I wish everyone, could take those challenges and rise above, give themselves hope, a new start.

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Tonight, as I am sitting in a quiet space, with no one really around me, I was able to process a bit more in my tired state. An update, the pup was very tender from her spaying and we did have to get more pain medication to help her. She seems to be on the mend and that stress I have for her,once she has recovered will make me feel better.

Right now it’s about making sure she is fine, small movements, nothing too much and keeping her stitches in tact. The living room is set up like a camp out and my back and hips are feeling the challenge of the hardness and cold of the floor. The catch, I would do it all again, if it meant keeping her calm and her knowing how much I love her. When your dog crawls up, all 80 lbs of her and she positions herself so that your head is also in the cone with hers, that is unconditional love.

She has been there for me, it is my turn for her.  On that note have a wonderful long weekend, mine will continue with the camp Mrs. Jones and work this time, while doing so I am focusing on building more strength for the upcoming months. Be proud of where you are and remember, no step is too small.

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Love always, the proud, loving, Woman in Process

 

 

The Night Before

It is the night before I have to take the pup in for her spaying. My nerves are a bit rattled as I try to keep myself calm and prepare her for tomorrow. I am always worried anytime someone has a surgery, pets, friends, family. It is challenging for me, as so many things have become routine now, yet I still see it as a new medicine, as if it is the first time it is being performed.

My thinking has at times challenged me over and over. I feel archaic from another time, yet modern in some aspects of my life. It makes me question if I was born in the right time. I know what you are thinking, odd duck, this woman is.

Do you ever feel when you say something, the things you like, the music, the phrases you say, that maybe, just maybe, they are your past life? I wonder? Is it possible?

We modernize our phones to sing, dance, do just about anything, we perform surgeries that at one time the thoughts of it never existed; man has created cures for diseases over and over, yet some still have not been found; we build space ships, technology by leaps and bounds, and see anything as a possibility.

If all of this is possible, could it be a possibility that I am born into the wrong time, that my soul is old and has seen so much before, that my life may have been rich of alternative memories before this one?

I have talked about the old souls before, when the pup and I met, my girl growing up and at times people I meet. It is, as if I knew them from somewhere else, and when they look at me I feel as if I already have a connection to them, a bond, a déjà vu moment.

That connection tells me so much inside at that moment, at times it tells me things I really don’t want to hear or am not surprised later when it takes place, it as if I had already known it, felt it. I laugh and say it’s my witchy coming out.

I wonder if it is the energy we give off that sparks that or is it just a regular human connection? It is an area I need to spend more time researching and pondering on.

As my thoughts had me venturing down the rabbit hole, I opted to head outside as I stood there watching the pup run free and jump. The crispness of the air brought a shiver to me, and I wrap my arms around me, as the sky begins to spit once more.

The neighbour’s tree still holds on to  apples, hanging onto the branches, now turning into a rich Crimson color. The plants have stopped blooming and I am watching them all, go to sleep for a long winters nap. I decide I should look at each of my plants and see if there are any seeds, I can take off for next year. As I am taking pieces inside to dry, I think about life in general.

I have been thinking a lot about it, as my father turns 80 next month and I know that each additional day, week or year are a blessing, to still see him. Just as the cycle of life comes to an end, like the blooms of the flowers, the seeds are there to renew and to begin new life. My daughter, one of a few grandchildren is the new seed,  the children having children; I cannot stop thinking about where I am in life, how my body keeps getting older and how one day I will become the blooms time to go to sleep.

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I know it may feel morbid, but as friends and family are passing on, the thoughts are there. I ask how does my father feel as, those close to his age are leaving on their angels wings to a new sunny destination?

I can only imagine,and hope he knows how  many fond memories we have and how much growth he did provide to us, he ensured each of us had seeds of hope, seeds of knowledge and seeds of love.

So tonight, think about those seeds that those around you give to you on a regular basis that maybe you just have forgotten about or the ones you are helping plant. Make sure those seeds are valuable lessons, planted and grown with love.

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I hope that when my bloom is coming to an end, I have imparted some seeds into another for the future. I believe Atticus has the right idea, but at my departing I may be a lot drunk, but I’m sure some of you, I will see again, just a déjà vu.

Love always the getting older, getting wiser (I think) Woman in Process.