Wow, I can't believe that I dropped on the ball on posting for so long. I cannot apologize enough for this. I love interacting with everyone, but life just sort of swallowed me up. Let me see if I can do a quick rundown of life over the past 6 months or so.

This week's question made me stop and think...Have I? Or was it more of an extended vacation?

Have you ever lived in another country besides your country of birth? Would you want to?

In 2006, I flew to England and stayed there for 4 months. I was recently divorced and really just needed a break from my ex-husband and everything that was going on at home. I was blessed to have people in my life who were willing to take care of me if I could buy myself a plane ticket. So, I went. I fell in love with the country. In a lot of ways, it felt like home to me. I don't think I would ever leave the US for good, but I certainly wouldn't mind a cozy cottage somewhere in England. Somewhere not far from the train station so that I could pop around whenever I felt like it.

How about you? Have you lived in other countries? Let me know! I'd love to learn more about all of you too!






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This question is one that I actually skipped over last week (bad me!) because I had no idea how to answer it. I'm still not really sure, but I figured it's a great opportunity for some free writing, so let's just see what happens.

It is the end of your life and you are up on stage being presented with a major award. What award is it, and what have you won it for?

It's the end of my life...that's the first part that struck me. I mean, I have no idea how much time will pass between now and then. Will I have written lots of books? Will anyone know I write books? Will I have grandchildren? Great-grandchildren? I think it's that last one that I'd like to be known for.

I mean, not necessarily having them, but knowing that my family that I've worried over is doing well and is continuing to live after I'm gone is a pretty special thing. I don't really need an award to be proud of my children, to know that I've had my moments of failings, but that I've done my best to raise them to be good men. That's important to me. I want them to be successful, to be happy, but it's important to me that they're also good. So perhaps, in my last days, if someone were to give me an award, it would be a crayon drawing that says Best Mom in the World on it with squiggly little signatures and lots of hugs.






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Wow, Thursday again. The days are blending into one another and I'm lucky to keep up with where I am. How about you? How are you doing? I think this week's question is one that could cause some anxiety, but I'm going to answer it anyway... Ready?

If I looked into your fridge right now, what would I find?

Let's see...cheese, Roger's salami, milk, orange juice, eggs, guacamole, sour cream, Roger's yogurt, and a store brand pizza. I think that's about it. I know that there's no hamburger or other meats.

It's not perfect, but at least it's not penguins eating tacos!






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Today's question is perfect for this time of year when so many are thinking about the upcoming year and making plans.

Write about three realistic goals you would like to achieve in your lifetime.

1. Publish my stories - This seems kind of duh, huh? Except up until now, I've only been published alongside Nick. Don't get me wrong. I love working with Nick and would forever except he's pushed me out of the nest. He knows me well. If I continue working and writing with him, I'll never tell my own stories and he doesn't want me to miss out on that. He's a good friend. So, my goal is to write and publish my own stories and books. I'd love to sell them too, but right now, it's all about the act of being brave enough to publish.

2. Build up my editing business - I love working with other authors, helping them to build up their writing. While I love writing, I don't want to give up editing and proofreading. I have a goal of making enough money between the two to be able to successfully live without any kind of assistance. It's going to be a lot of work, but I love what I do and I'm okay with work.

3. Own my own house - This last one may be the biggest and hardest challenge, but it would be the ultimate sign of success if I could buy my own house. I like knowing that a space is my own. It gives me the security that I need. Right now, I'm renting a house that needs a crazy amount of work. I'm taking every penny that comes in to pay off old bills and to live. It's my hope that between the first two goals, that I can make enough money to start putting funds aside to save up for a down payment.

These are my goals, what about you? What are your three goals?






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Last week I told you a story about my youngest son. Today's is all about a trip my oldest and I took together a couple of summers ago.

When was the last time you got lost?

In today's age with a gps built right into my phone, it's not often that I get lost. Trust me though to find an exception. A couple of summers ago, my oldest son, Ben, and I were headed down by Detroit to watch one of his friends play baseball. The weather was lovely and off we headed. We were doing really well, making good time, until we came across a train stopped on the tracks. Since we were limited on time, I decided to go around...and that's when it happened.

The turn I took didn't lead to where I thought it was going to. We were in the middle of nowhere and suddenly my phone lost signal. I was trying to keep positive so I joked that we were on an adventure. I got to the end of a road and took a left. Luckily, it led to a place called Turkeyville. Unluckily, my stomach had started acting up and I badly needed to find a bathroom. We pulled into the parking lot, but they were closed. No worries, a girl was walking across the parking lot. Surely she'd let me use the bathroom since it was becoming an emergency and then give me directions to the freeway. Nope. She acted as if she didn't hear me calling out repeatedly to her.

As I watched her go inside the building, my confidence was a bit shaken, but just then an rv pulled out from a side road. Since those often head towards civilization, I decided to follow it. Just a few miles down the road was a golf club. I was never so happy to see a sport I don't love. I pulled in and told Ben to wait in the car. I hurried inside to use the bathroom but before I was done, I heard Ben in the hall asking someone for a bandaid. Ut-oh...someone hadn't listened. Turns out he had come in and tripped on the sidewalk and skinned up his knee. Luckily for us, the gear shop had a first aid kit and got him fixed up while I got directions. Turns out I was only about a half mile from the freeway! Whew!

There were a few more small adventures before we got to the baseball tournament, but at least we weren't lost again!






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Hey, everyone! Some of you may have noticed that the site got really quiet for about a month. It turns out that my little cough turned into pneumonia and knocked me out for about five weeks. I did little more than lay on the couch and watch tv. I didn't have the concentration to read, to work, anything. To say it was frustrating is probably the understatement of the new year. Finally though, after six weeks or so, I've been told by the doctor that my lung x-rays are clear again. Yay! Of course, after doing a bit of shoveling, I do have a cough creeping back in, but I'm going to be keeping a close eye on it.

Now that I'm better, it's time to make some plans for 2020! I finished the first draft of Nevermore at the end of 2019 and I'm waiting for notes from Nick. I hear there are a lot of them...erk! That's okay though. It's just going to make me a better writer. I also finished Tales from the Toy Store and sent that out to some beta readers. I should have some notes back on that soon and then Eric Cockrell and I will be working together to add some art before working on a launch.

On the editing side, I'm currently accepting projects. Being sick really hurt my finances. On top of that, I just love proofreading and editing. I can't wait to dive into some new projects. If you're looking for someone, don't hesitate to reach out.

Now, it's about time for me to be mom. My oldest, Ben, is doing Special Olympics basketball and it's practice night. His first tournament is this weekend, so wish us luck!






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It's been a while since I've posted here (there will be a post coming to explain) and it feels really good to be back! Today's question brought a smile to my face because attached is a happy memory.

What stupid question have you heard someone ask (or asked yourself)?

Probably about four years ago, I used to go to the park and lay by the river on the blanket to unwind and read. I was laying there one day when my youngest son called me from a friend's house. I don't remember why. I just remember that he was going to have to call me back with more information on whatever it was he was asking about. I told him to call me back and then it happened...he asked me if I had my phone with me. I could hear his friend and his friend's mom laughing in the background. Without hesitating, I asked, "You mean the one you called me on?" He felt dumb, but honestly, it's one of my favorite memories. He's a smart, talented kid and it's nice when something silly happens with him. It's good to be reminded that he's a kid. Well, was a kid. He's nearly 19 now and in college. He's grown up fast, but luckily I still have these memories with him.





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Were you born to shine in one special way? What makes you really stand out?

Wow, I know I've said it before, but some of these questions are just plain tough! This one has been so hard for me that I've sat here for an hour without writing a word! I don't want to skip it though. These questions were meant to keep me writing and to challenge me. I will confess though that for the first time ever, I posted the question to Facebook. Naughty me! I'll include the one response that I've gotten at this point, but first...I want to answer this one for myself. So, let's go!

I don't know if I was born to shine in one special way. I can only say that I was born to be me and after a very long time, I've figured out who that me is. I'm a mom first. I always will be. I love my boys fiercely and would do anything for them. My own parents taught me how not to parent and while it made my life that much harder, they were good teachers. When my own kiddos came along, I knew just how I wanted to parent. I'm not saying being a parent has been easy, but I knew the type of parent I wanted to be anyway.

Second, I'm a writer. I quite often doubt my abilities, but I am a writer. I suspect that it will take me a while to be totally comfortable saying that, but it will come. The more I write, the more I feel it. I'm just not quite past that point in writing that I don't look for encouragement and validation. That's okay though. Life has been a challenge and finding yourself can be darned hard. It's okay to want to hear people cheer you on.

I'm all sorts of other things, but those are the two big ones right now. I mean, I'm also an editor (and absolutely love doing it!) and an organizer and a reader and a journaler. I think that the part that's the most important though is that I'm me and I'm comfortable being me.

Now, Brandy's response:
"You have the most caring, kind soul. You are an excellent writer. You are not a grammar Nazi, although you have the skill.
You are strong and wise enough to know you are not perfect, but a work in progress, and you do what needs to be done."

What do you look forward to every week?

I wish I had a glorious and grand answer to this one, but I just don't. My first reaction was possible time with the men in my life. It's only possible time because Roger is off at college, Ben is working nearly full-time and I just never know what "the man's" schedule is going to be like. Lately they've all been busy so I haven't seen or heard much from any of them. That can be tough. I try to remember it's not personal, it's life, but it's tough being an empty nester now. I tried to be ready for it, but I wasn't.

It has allowed me to write more, to go to more write ins this month and things like which has been nice, but nothing can replace time with my favorite guys.





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Do you prefer taking risks or having a safety net?

Oooh...I am 100% a safety net kind of girl. Even my risks have been thought out and weighed. I think this comes from having a childhood where I never felt totally secure. It's made me crave security and scared of risk. Quite often though, I think of a picture that I once saw. On it, it said, "Leap and the net shall appear."

I've worked on following that to a certain extent. Sometimes life is about faith, right? For me, it's having faith in myself that I can do something. I can write a book. I can work hard for my clients and not improve upon their work, but also build good working relationships. Leap and the net shall appear...because that net is me and I'm right there.

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What did you get into trouble for the most when you were a kid?

Whew. Let's see. I'm sure I got into trouble for the usual things, like being mouthy, but the biggest thing I remember getting into trouble for was always about my younger sister.

She was born with a heart murmur (one I should point out has never affected her life) and so my grandfather spoiled her. While I was always made to carry in groceries, she got to sit and watch. While I had to mow, I don't remember her ever mowing. The frustration over the fairness of it all would build up and I would lose my temper. It always resulted in me getting into trouble.

More than once, she would make up things to get me into trouble. I always told to stop picking on her. I remember having friends who would comment on how I always got into trouble, even if I hadn't done anything, but she never did.

....And that, folks, is another bit of insight into my world.





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Name one thing that you have lied to yourself about. Why did you do this?

Wow, this is a tough one this week. The first thing that pops to mind is a bit tough to write about, but since it's come up twice today, maybe I'm supposed to share it with all of you.

When I was 29, my ex-husband and I divorced after nearly ten years of marriage. After the divorce, I was broken. I had no idea of self-worth or even identity. During that time, I met a man online and for my 30th birthday, we agreed that I'd fly from Michigan to New York to see him. Everything that could go wrong with that trip did and I should have turned around and gone home, but I believed this man cared about me and I really didn't want to spend my birthday being ignored and alone. I kept telling myself that I just had to get there and everything would be alright.

I was wrong. By the time that I got there, I was exhausted. The airline didn't have my bag so I had nothing other than the cute, dressy outfit that I had worn.  I'll spare you all of the details, but that night was far from fine and I woke up the next morning, bruised and bleeding. Here's where lie #2 comes into play. I was so confused by what had happened. Since we were entering into a new relationship, I wondered if I'd given off some sort of mixed signal. He did his best to convince me that everything was fine and that nothing bad had happened. I was there, I was lost and confused, I believed him. I had nowhere to go and calling someone to come get me never crossed my mind. I didn't believe anyone would come if I did call...and I didn't know anyone else in that area. That night, there was an attempt at it happening again, but when I completely disassociated, it wasn't fun for him, so he stopped. The next day I flew home, confused by what had happened, hurting, and yet somehow looking forward to seeing him again. He was that good at manipulation.

Why did I lie to myself? Because I believed I was unworthy of love, affection, and any kind of positive attention. Part of me believed that any attention was better than no attention. I'm not that girl anymore. I have boundaries. I believe in me. I'm proud of me. That makes a big difference.

I hope you believe in you.






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Come up with a mathematical formula to express something you know/believe.

Me + My Children + Time = Happy Me

Me + The Man + Time = Happy Me

Me + Hard Work + Dedication = Success

Hard Work + Money = Progress in certain things

Me + Good Book + Cozy Blanket = Downtime

I thought this one might be tough, but really it's all about taking everything down to its base. I think I could probably do this for half the day and have a bit of fun with it, but I'd much rather see your formulas.







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I'll confess that I saw a sneak peek of this week's prompt and all week I've avoided thinking about it because it causes anxiety. I'm not at a point in my life/mental health journey that I let myself think long term. But, I'm going to try to relax and just write...after all, that's the night before my 53rd birthday. Who knows what that time will bring?

This week's prompt:
Write a diary entry, dated 10 years in the future.

Well, happy birthday eve to me. There were times that you never thought you'd get here, but you did. The boys are all grown up and doing great. You have a daughter-in-law and grandkids are on the horizon. Do you remember being in high school, thinking you'd never have kids? It's funny now, but it wasn't at the time. You were already so damaged.

Here you are though. You've come through everything that the universe could throw at you and you have a thriving editing and writing career. You get to work with the best indie authors that there are and you're receiving fan emails asking when your next book will come out. Ten years ago, you were just getting started, afraid that you'd never finish that novel, but you did. You did and people loved it. Now, you have an entire series of young adult novels as well as your children's stories. You chose not to choose and it was the right decision. People doubted you. People said you couldn't do it and you did it anyway. You. Nobody else. I'm proud of you.

You've moved to a home that you love, in an area that you love, and you're surrounded by people who love and celebrate you. Life is good and that's because of you. You turned your life into what you wanted it to be and that, girl, is awesome.






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"The man" got me this fantastic book of writing prompts for our anniversary this year and I've been looking at it for a few weeks now. Why? Mostly because I've been swamped, but there's also been the tiniest bit of procrastination in there. Well, that ends today. He has believed in me longer than most and he truly believes that I have what it takes to be a great writer. I love him for that (and a ton of other reasons). So, starting today, my goal is to post a new question from the book on Thursday and then do some free writing under it. I think that we might all learn some things about me! Free writing without planning is a challenge for me so I'll be stretching outside of my comfort zone.

What is your favorite way to spend a lazy day?
The answer to this 100% depends on who I'm with. If I'm with "the man", I love to snuggle up and talk or possibly watch something. We don't really get many lazy days so each one is pretty special. It'd be a day of just doing whatever we felt like doing and celebrating the freedom to do it. Now, if I'm with my boys, it probably involves playing games, watching movies, and just catching up on each other's lives. On my own? These are especially hard for me because I'm really not good at relaxing. I feel guilty if I'm being lazy. I never could understand why my ex-husband would accuse me of being lazy. It's like he had no idea who he was talking to. Anyway..lol...if I could have a perfect lazy day, it would involve me sitting in the shade of some trees with my feet dangling in the water while I read a good book. I'd be out in nature enjoying one of my favorite things. I have dreams of finding a cabin somewhere that I could escape to for a week or two of writing, enjoying nature, and reading. Maybe wandering through the woods taking some pictures...I've yet to make it happen, but it's still my dream every summer.

What about you? What's your favorite way to spend a lazy day?






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Today I dropped off the youngest at Jazz Camp for the week and as I drove away, it struck me just how independent he's become. As soon as we'd collected his things from the car, he took off for the dorm and forgot I was even there in his excitement to reconnect with his friends from last year. After I gave him his things, he joined his friends and didn't even look up as I left.  Please don't get me wrong, he wasn't rude or disrespectful. He was ready to move on with this coming week. He was ready for this next mini chapter.

Tonight, idly looking at house listings, I started to wonder how ready I am. In 11 months, my oldest will graduate from high school.  He's nervous about it and I spent some time tonight talking about options with him. There's a local trade school especially for disabled people. They have a program that he might be interested in. I'll need to see if they do job placement or anything like that because if they don't, the program he's interested in is fairly useless.

Still, it got him thinking about changes too. He knows that after his brother graduates from high school, I have to move. We talked today about places I could move to. He asked me where I had friends because I don't have any here. He told me that he doesn't care where I move because it's my life and I have to be happy. It made me smile to hear such an adult thought come from him. He's growing up and I can no longer deny that both him and his brother are on the verge of adulthood. It won't be long before they'll be doing their own things and where will that leave me?

Creating a whole new world for myself.  For nearly 18 years now, I've been mom. That's been my role, my title, and my life. Soon though, I'll be having to make the tough decisions and trying to decide what's best, not for them, but for myself. In theory, I could move anywhere in the world. In reality, I think I'd better stay in this country..heh... That being said, there's a lot of country out there. I could stay nearby wherever the boys are. I could move somewhere random. There's also ...well, I don't really talk about this, but there's a man that I've fallen for and right now, circumstances outside of our control don't allow for us to be together, but who knows, maybe we might find ourselves in closer proximity.

That's a lot of well maybes, huh? There's also the question of what do I do with myself when mom isn't my full-time gig. I would really like to write and to make enough to be able to start paying off old bills. Wouldn't that be smashing? I think so. Of course, it means educating myself as to how to promote my writing better so that people know it exists. A friend on Facebook posted the other night that he met an author who makes about $60k a month (I think, a month was the time frame) but also spends $5-10k during that same time frame on advertising. That's a great return, but I have no way of investing that kind of money into myself. Is it possible to start the ball rolling without spending that kind of money? I have no idea. I guess that's where educating myself comes in.

So, here we are...about 2 years until I have to be moving on from where I'm at and a lot of decisions to make, a lot of work to do, and a lot of finding me that needs to happen before then.



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"People who have experienced trauma may associate the excitement of success with the same physiological reactions as trauma. They avoid subjecting themselves to excitement-inducing circumstances, which causes them to be almost phobic about success." -- Psychology Today

"The Jonah complex is the fear of success which prevents self-actualization or the realization of one's potential. It is the fear of one's own greatness, the evasion of one's destiny, or the avoidance of exercising one's talents. Just as the fear of achieving a personal worst can motivate personal growth, the fear of achieving a personal best can also hinder achievement." -- Wikipedia

Yesterday, I wrote a post about finding myself and in it, I mentioned how I'm the only thing standing in my way of so many things. Today, I woke up absolutely exhausted and immediately went into beat myself up/I'm worthless mode. I sat here feeling sorry for myself. There's no other words to describe it. When my body/brain says you need a down day, I get incredibly frustrated and I take it out on myself. A lot of us do that. We beat ourselves up over things that are outside of our control.

I'd love to tell you that I meditated or came to some brilliant conclusion that brought me here today, but the reality is that I noticed that I had Pinterest open in a tab so I decided to lazy scroll through things and see what I found. What I found was a whole lot of pins on writing and it reminded me of yesterday's post so here I am...after pinning about a dozen of them to go back to later.

If you know me well at all, you know that I write. I write stories, I write posts, I write diary entries in Word that may or may not ever be seen by the world. I write. It's what I do. It's what I've done for as long as I remember. It's what I want to do with my life. I want to write.

Seems easy enough, right? If someone said to me that they wanted to write, I'd say, "Then write." Except it's not that simple. Okay, the writing part is. Writing isn't difficult for me. Heck, hand me a notebook and a pen and I'll doodle and write all day long. It's the part that comes after that...what do I do with it once I write it? Do I file it away somewhere? Do I publish it? Do I tell anyone about it?

Just a few days ago, I got the Facebook notification that on this day a year ago, I published my first story on Amazon. I've gone on to publish something like 8 stories. In that year, I've never made enough off selling them to even receive a royalty payment. Why? Because I've been afraid to take the next steps. I have the resources. Russell Nohelty has a podcast all about building up your creative business. I'm part of at least one really good authors' group on Facebook. I'm friends (or at least Facebook friends) with multiple published writers.

So what's holding me back? Me. I am. I'm the problem. I'm terrified of what happens if I do this and I do it well. What will that mean for my life? What changes will there be? Just thinking about it has my anxiety flaring up. Then, there's the other side of it. I look around at the people surrounding me and I think "What's the point in even trying? There are so many people out there already doing this. There's nothing special about me or what I do."

I'm afraid of success and I'm afraid of failure. So, I do nothing. I write my stories and sometimes I post them and sometimes I don't. I write here and since it's mostly ignored by the outside world, I tell myself that it's a sure sign that my writing isn't any good. If it were, surely something I'd written would have gained traction by now. Is that the truth? Probably not. There are a million people out there writing the same  types of things on their blogs. There's no reason that mine would gain attention.

Still, I write because I can't imagine a life without doing it. This is part of me. I just have to decide if I'm brave enough to really show people what I can do and if I am, I have to start taking those steps. I know that I'm not alone in feeling like this and I hope that I'm not alone in whatever happens next.



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Sometimes something someone says gets stuck in my head and I can't get rid of it. It sits there, tugging at my thoughts, pulling at my emotions, until I give it the attention that it desires and perhaps the attention that I need to give it. After all, if it's there, it must be there for a reason, right?

In this case, a man that I was involved with a few years ago, perhaps more now, wrote me this rather horrible email to not only end our relationship but to end any association he had with me. Honestly, it was cruel and below this person, but that's not what this post is about. It's about what he said to me in that email that has hung around in my head for all these years and the fact that I'm finally at a point where I can deal with it clearly and without wasted emotion. After all, emotion is wasted on someone who was flat out cruel to you.

I'm not going to directly quote him because honestly, I have no desire to open that email. The gist of what he said was that I'm not me. I'm not someone who stands for anything or has her own beliefs. I'm merely someone who morphs herself into whatever she thinks the other person wants. I'm nothing more than a mimic.  Harsh, huh?

That one single idea has stuck with me ever since I read it and I wondered if it was true. Who am I? I'm reminded of this quote from the movie Music and Lyrics:

"Since then, every time I pick up a pen, I'm haunted by those words that he wrote, you know? "She was a brilliant mimic. She could ape Dorothy Parker or Emily Dickinson, but stripped of someone else's literary clothes, she was a vacant, empty imitation of a writer.""

Stripped of other people's interests and beliefs, who am I? You see, he was right in a way. I do tend to take on the interests of those I care about. Do I do it to define me? No, I don't think that I do. I do it to have more in common with them, to learn about new things. Rob is a perfect example of this and someone who, on the tiniest off chance that he ever read this, wouldn't care if I used him as an example.

Rob was/is very much into roller derby. Me? I knew next to nothing about it. When I'd visit him, if one of his friends stopped by, they'd sit and talk about it and I'd be left out because I knew nothing about it. I hated that. It was also something he was very passionate about so I wanted to know more. I downloaded and read the complete rule book. They teased me that the next thing they knew, I'd be some sort of official. The reality is that I never intended on playing myself or getting involved. I just wanted to know more. I'm still holding out for Rob to take me to my first bout.

Did I change myself into a derby girl because Rob was into derby? No. Some would point out that I did go and buy a pair of skates. I did. I still have them though due to illness, etc I haven't used them since right after I bought them. Skating is fantastic exercise and a lot of fun. It was something I could do on my own or go with Rob to do when I was visiting him. Was it because of him that I looked into it? Yeah, it was. Did it change anything? Not really.

So where am I going with all of this? I guess I'm going to the part where I say Stuart was right. Over the years, I've molded myself at times. My upbringing caused that. If I wasn't what was wanted, things happened. When I was with the boys' dad, that continued. Please don't misunderstand. He never raised a hand towards me, but he knew what buttons to push to get me to be or do what he wanted.

Then, I was on my own. I was no longer his wife. I no longer had an identity. I didn't know who I was. So, over the years since then, I guess I've explored options. With Rob, I explored the idea of skating and I discovered that it was something I enjoyed. I totally sucked at it, but I enjoyed it. With others, it may have been certain television shows or hobbies. Does that mean that I continued to morph? Perhaps, but only to the smallest extent. As someone who had no idea who they were anymore, what their interests were or what they wanted to do/be in life, it was a way to discover the answers to those things. I discovered that no matter how much someone else liked it, I just could not get into Buffy, but that I loved Doctor Who. I realized that I do kind of like certain types of science fiction. I found a tiny piece of me.

I tend to think of myself as one of those jigsaw puzzles that have 10,000 pieces and each time I discover something, a tiny piece slides into place. With enough exploration, I may find me again. I think that I started my container garden a number of years ago because Rob or someone was growing tomatoes and it gave me an additional connection to him. It also allowed me to discover that dirt therapy is really good for me. Does Rob still grow tomatoes? Heck if I know. I do know that right now, there are 8 plants on my front porch that I need to water later today.

There are also things that I do simply because they're a part of me. I love to craft. I've been making things since I was a child and while I don't do it as much these days it's not because someone has frowned on it. It's simply because I got in my own way and now I need to clear that out so that I can get back to it. Nick once told me that coloring is my therapy...crafting always was and I suspect it always will be. I can't draw but I can still create in my own way.

Which brings me to writing...another thing that I've done for as long as I can remember. In fact, if you asked me what I wanted to do with my life, I'd tell you that I want to write. It's another thing that I'm just plain getting in my own way of. Will I ever be famous for writing? Probably not. Could I be successful at it? Probably. It's my own fears that are getting in the way of that, but that's probably another post for another day. It's another one of those thoughts that have been bumping around in my head lately.

What does this all mean? It means that you may see me becoming interested in something that you do. I may try it out for a little bit. I may discover that I love it and stick with it. I may discover that it's not me and leave it. Either of those things is okay. The only way to truly discover if something is me is to try it. I'm not mimicking, I'm exploring and exploration is healthy. It's good.

In order to reclaim me, I have to find me.



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Five years ago today I got the call that would lead to the end of something that had started 10 months previously. Looking back, I think I can say that it was the day that I finally lost myself after the previous 5 years of fighting to find myself again. I suppose that I ought to give some background so that this makes sense to someone other than me...

In 2005, Peter and I agreed that it was time for a divorce. In June 2006, the divorce was finalized. Memorial Day weekend 2017, I left the house that we had bought together and everything I knew to move to New York. To say that I was lost is perhaps the understatement of the century. I left behind everything I knew and in some ways, my very identity. For the 10 years or so before that, I had been known as Peter's wife. Since 2000, I had been someone's mom. There was no me outside of those two roles. I didn't have any local friends. The only people I socialized with were online.

For the next five or six years, I fought to figure out who I was without being someone's wife or mother. (Of course, I was still the boy's mom but I had made the heartbreaking decision to leave the boys with their dad because he had the job, the money, the insurance, and the location where all of Ben's team were located.) I missed almost an entire semester of school due to a depression so bad that it crippled me and gave me panic attacks whenever I tried to get into the car to go anywhere. I ended up in therapy that was mostly useless because the therapist decided that my entire issue was that I was lonely. I wasn't lonely, I was lost.

I did finish that semester of school by some tiny miracle, dropping most of my classes, and having some incredibly understanding instructors. I finished the following year as well and while it improved, I never really shook that depression. Later, I would be diagnosed as Bipolar II. I graduated with honors with a degree in Psychology and was once again faced with the idea of having nowhere to go. The people I had been renting from wanted me out and I wanted out. The atmosphere was unhealthy on almost every level. In the end, I decided to "come home". I needed to be back with my boys. I found a house to rent in Sunfield, about 25 miles from them. It wasn't perfect but it was at least within driving distance. I threw myself back into being their mother. I drove (and still do) every day to town to do homework with one or both of them. I went (and still go) to all of their events. This was a me that I knew.

Slowly, piece by piece, I recovered from losing the world that I knew and I started to build up a new one. I was finding me again. I started writing again. I started crafting again. I slowly purged the things that I had accumulated and that I really had no need for. I felt as if I had close friends, even if they again lived nowhere near me. I started working out and eating better. In fact, I think I lost close to 75 pounds and for the first time in a long time, didn't hate myself when I looked in the mirror.

My Grandparents

Then, my world started to crumble again. The only person who I had ever felt loved me unconditionally got sick and suddenly everyone was leaning on me for strength and acted as if I could somehow magically fix it. I should have been stronger. I should have said no, but I didn't. They knew what cards to play. They reminded me how she'd taken me in when my own parents didn't want me. Before I knew it, I was spending almost every weekend at her house cleaning, organizing, purging, sorting and with my poor boys in tow. It wasn't fair to me and it wasn't fair to them, but the guilt laid on me was too much for me to say no to.

I stopped working out. I stopped cooking because I was tired and stressed and I was starting to crack around the edges. I was trying to keep everything normal but nothing was normal and the guilt of the fact that I was dragging my children into it added to everything. Five years ago today, my grandmother died after being sick for 10 months. I'm not going to lie. I was glad. I was glad that she was no longer suffering and I was glad that it was over. Except, for me, it wasn't over.

For the next six weeks, my family would guilt me into going through ever box that had been packed and sorting it into things they could sell and things they could toss. I was exposed to their greed, their hypocrisy, and their selfishness. They were allowed to mourn but I was expected to work. During that six weeks, I was pushed to my breaking point and at the end, when I finally had the strength or perhaps the desperation to say no more, it was too late. I had lost myself again. I had lost myself and I had lost the few close "local" friends that I had thought I'd had. I went home and buried myself..literally.

Boxes and boxes of her things had made their way to my house either because I'd brought them there or because they'd been dumped there. On top of that, I had started to surround myself with stuff in a desperate effort to feel some sort of security. In the years that followed, it would only get worse. There are very few who know the true conditions that I was living in and in some ways, still live in. I wish I could explain how this was "okay" to me but I can't because it wasn't. The worse the house got, the worse I felt. The guilt, the anxiety, all of it overwhelmed me until I was crippled and frozen by it.

Five years ago, I lost myself again and I'm just starting to find myself. Some of you have seen the tag Reclaiming Me either here or on Facebook. That's a very real thing for me.  Just over a year ago, I started purging my house again. I've backslid at times and made huge strides at others. Eight months ago, Nick convinced me to work with him on a book series. When he brought it up in exchange for doing something for me, we both knew that it wasn't a fair deal but neither of us cared. I think he knew I needed to push myself, that I needed a challenge and as for me, I felt ready to take that challenge. Oh, I've had major bouts of anxiety and self doubt since that agreement, but I finished book one and it's had good feedback.

Five years is a long time and I'm not back to the place I was before it happened. I wish that I could say that I was, but I'm not. Every day is a challenge on some level. Today, I woke up and my power was still out because of a wind storm yesterday. I was cold, tired from waking up repeatedly because i was cold, emotional because of today's anniversary and while what I really wanted was to have a message saying I love you, I had one that felt harsh...harsher than it really was but a tired me is a vulnerable me. I'm not going to lie. I laid on the couch for an hour and just cried. The world felt like it was just too much for me. Just thinking about it has me in tears again. This morning I relived the loss of everything that mattered to me and it's still in my head... but I got up, changed into jeans, and drove to someplace warm that had outlets so I could recharge things in case there's still no power when I get home tonight.

Five years is a long time, but it isn't forever and today I'm a little bit stronger than I was then. Today, I got up off the couch. Today, I walked out my front door. Today, I wrote this. Tomorrow, I will write more. Two years from now, I will make a final decision on where I'm moving to and hopefully, I will have the courage to do it. I know where I want to be at that point. It's not just up to me though, but today, under the fear and the emotions, there is hope.



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