Free Writing #1

I watched a super interesting documentary yesterday called “Women aren’t funny” and it made me feel so frustrated. Women ARE funny… of course, it shouldn’t even be a question. But after watching the documentary, it appears that most people don’t think women are funny. Or if they are funny, they aren’t attractive and/or they had possibly been molested. (Yes. I’m not exaggerating, that is a real theory.) After watching it I looked up podcasts that feature women and subscribed to several that seemed promising. I want to do something to help out  all those funny ladies out there who -like me- are hilarious and have a va jay jay. Did you know that those things are not mutually exclusive?!

I-cant-believe-i-still-have-to-protest-this-shitOne of the podcasts that I’ve been enjoying is The Dork Forest and it’s full of funny women and I like hearing about other people’s hobbies and crafty things. On one episode Janeane Garofalo was talking about how hard it is for women to find roles or if roles are available they are looking for a “new girl” someone young and attractive, a new face and body for men to interact with and daydream about. It feed into the frustration leftover from Women Aren’t’ Funny and wound up getting angry. Why in 2015 are we still dealing with these issues!? While on the surface it appears that things are getting better and we are closer to true equality than ever, with just a little digging the truth comes to light. Women are still considered to be secondary to men and to inherently have less worth. It really makes me angry and, very ironically, it makes me feel powerless to affect change.

I’ve decided I don’t really care if I become “that girl.” The annoying one that talks about feminism and brings women’s rights into every conversation. If I continue to try to please people all the time nothing will change. You’ve been warned.

Breaking News: Depression is depressing

* This post was originally written on June 27, 2010. *

I have been on an anti-depressant since college. Finally, I was able to admit that the depression was taking over; more than I could handle on my own. The medicine they put me on really made things seem level. So, I was missing out on the super highs, but also not dealing with the super lows. Comfortably numb and a little flat. Turns out that’s not so great, but recently, I have found myself wishing for that pleasant numbness to return. help pills

Lately, my chest has been tight with churning raw emotions. I feel so full of bad feelings, all swirling together creating a kind of sadness-fear-dread-panic-guilt mix that makes my heart pound and my guts clench. My mind is twirling the situation over and over. What can I do, how can I make this stop? Do you ever feel like life if just to much muchness?

A few weeks ago when we got rid of our dog, Gracie, I felt this way. I was sobbing the whole car ride and couldn’t have felt worse if we were taking her to the slaughterhouse. In reality, she has a great new home with a friendly sibling-dog and loving owner. But at the time I felt so overwhelmed but the burning, aching, tear of sadness that it almost overcame me. If my soul could speak she would be screaming, “Ow…Ow…OWWWW!”

Sometimes life just seems too hard, too much to deal with, more than I can handle, more than I want to handle. When I feel this way it’s like I’m ready to cry, “Uncle!” “Stop these bad feelings, stop the pain, stop the depression, stop, stop, stop!” I contemplate running away or sleeping for weeks on end. Both seem inviting. Anything to escape, anything to not have to deal with all this crap.

Here’s the deal- giving away your dog is sad, but it shouldn’t bring you to the brink of insanity. However, I feel like I am just barely holding everything together, if one tiny thing happens all the pieces of me tumble to the ground and shatter. I am working so hard, every minute of the day, keeping things together. It’s exhausting.

So! So? I don’t know. I don’t know where to go from here, I don’t know how to stop this cycle. I am just hanging on for the ride and the ride is becoming my life and my daughter’s first year. It really sucks.

Baby Love

It is so easy to dwell on the hard parts of being a parent. The bad days weigh heavily on me, while the good days slip by unheeded. But there is something magic about a baby, that I never knew until I had Piper.

Sometimes when I am changing her diaper, she reaches to the side and arches back on the changing table to grab at something. Her smooth little body looks like a crescent moon with a tight little butt in the middle. When she does that she is so beautiful and flawless that it pulls at my heart. I am taken out of the hurry, hurry, hurry, clean, clean, clean and transported into a perfect moment. I run my fingertips down the silky curve of her side and my breath catches in my chest. “Oh, Pipey, Pipey. I love you so much, too much, with all my heart and body. I love you till it hurts me. I LOVE you.” I forget that I am rushing somewhere, I forget that she is fussy, I forget that I’d rather not wipe up more poop. For just a moment, everything is right with the world and I don’t want to be anywhere but there with her.

When Piper was a newborn, I was surprised by how much I loved her. She had put me through a hellish nine months, but still there was that magic baby thing. The day Piper was born a new kind of love was born in me. A love that is almost too much to bear, strong enough to take over mentally and physically. A kind of animalistic love that made me want to lick her and smell her; trying to consume everything tiny thing about her. Powerful love, life changing love, gut squeezing, heart healing love.

 There is a tiny bud of an idea that I have. If I love my child this much, does God love me this much? I am His child. I know the Sunday school answer, but does it really apply to me? It sounds like Pharisee-ish false humility, but I often feel that God doesn’t love me or want to help me day in and day out. I am too dirty and too broken. I am a failure when trying to live up to my standards and I have fallen woefully short of His.

But I don’t stop loving P when she isn’t perfect. I know the Lord doesn’t stop loving me, but it is a hard concept to internalize. He loves me more than I love Piper. He thinks I am beautiful just like I know she is. This feels wonderful and terrible at the same time. Most days I feel about as beautiful and worthy of love as a moldy turd.

In the evenings, after a long day wrestling with P, I hold her and try to rock her to sleep. She is usually crying and sometimes I am, too. I am exhausted. My brain is tired and my body is aching. I have come to the end of the end of myself. Then I cry out to the Lord and He is there with us. His presence is strong and I know He is in the room. With Piper nestled in my neck and the Lord’s strength and love pouring out on us, I know I can make it another day.

I go all day drawing on my own strength and when the well is dry, there He is. Ready to quench my thirst with living water. Maybe I should give it up earlier in the day and turn to Him before I am a my breaking point. But I don’t feel I have the right; what if He turns me away? What if He says He will help me if I stop screwing up so much?

It’s only when I am out of options that I seek the Lord. I just realized that maybe I should make seeking the Lord my first option! What if I turned to Him first thing in the morning!? Sounds like a wonderful idea, why haven’t I thought of it before?

I know in my head that God is love and he has forgiven me. But in my heart, I have a hard time accepting that His love as unconditional and unfailing and it is for me. It is amazing to me how He is revealing Himself to me through Piper and my relationship with her.

*This was originally posted on  April 28, 2010. I’m moving some older writing over to this blog. I’d love to hear what you think! *

Free Writing

I read a blog recently that talked about free writing. It’s the idea that you just start writing, don’t over think or over explain what you are trying to say, just say it. I have always loved the idea of free writing or stream of consciousness writing. Just putting words on the page and seeing what comes out. It is the truest and purest form of writing and/or exorcism for me. I also love the term free writing because it makes me think of writing to BE free. So often I have thoughts and worries piling up in my head, swirling around, and dragging me down. If I take the time to write myself out of my head I feel so much better.

I struggle with wanting to be perfect, to write a perfect journal, and to record my life with Piper in a beautiful and meaningful way. But so much of the time I don’t do anything because I can’t do it perfectly. I read a silly quote today, it was actually referring to veganisim, but it works for me on many levels. “Don’t do nothing because you can’t do everything. Do something. Anything!” Good advice for me and also it sounds rather Dr. Suess-like, so there’s a bonus point.

So here we are. I am not doing a perfect blog post. I am not living a perfect life. But I am going to try to do something. Anything is better than nothing.


If you are interested in free writing: