Posts Tagged With: all the feels

Friday feels

Today is the first day I’ve stopped and taken a big breath this week.
I needed it!
Of course, stopping and breathing gave me the opportunity to be all in my feels.

gratitude
Even though it took two full weeks, Thing 2’s covid test came back negative
I got to hug Meredith and her Mommy when their family returned from a forty-five day cross-country trip
My gloriously supportive friends who encourage me to think outside the box

than central air

joy
YBW and I put down the deposit for our house yesterday, and will sign the contract Wednesday

excitement
Road trip with YBW (we leave for GA in the morning and return with Thing 1’s family on Monday)
Baby K will be here all the time
I’m going to tutor select students this virtual school year (kind of like being an ‘at home’ substitute teacher)

It was an exceptionally great week to be me!

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accentuate the positive (and weird)

Y’all, my husband is a precious man.
I mean a truly precious man.
When he asked about my day and I told him I was feeling a way (mood) he began suggesting things he could do to help. From providing me with things to keep me occupied, (things he knew I didn’t really want to do) to coming up with things he could do to be helpful.
When I told him I appreciate him trying to help make it better, but I didn’t need him to fix it. He told me knew that, but he wants to help fix it because he loves me. And I honestly couldn’t argue with that.

We talked about me going to Thing 1’s. He inquired about girlie hotel weekend with Thing 2. She’s on the way regardless of which direction I’m heading.
This man is over here like, I can’t make it better for you, but if being with one or both of your girls will, I can make that happen.

He’s been very clear during the pandemic about how he understands his life is much more normal than most of the rest of us. He goes to work every day every other week, so those weeks feel normal. He gets out. He sees people. He gets do do the work he loves doing.
And I know how lucky we are!
We aren’t worried about how to pay the mortgage, or feed ourselves, or whether or not there’s enough loo paper.
We don’t have little kids at home who need to stay safe and continue to be educated.
We don’t have elderly parents to worry about.
Our kids are safe and healthy.

I’m quick to get frustrated.
And my husband often bears the brunt of that. I mean, sometimes he’s part of the situation, sometimes he’s just in the line of fire. But I hope he really understands how precious he is to me.
We had a conversation over the weekend in which I shared my concern that he never hears the good stuff. That he only hears negativity and criticism. I suggested that predated me. I’m not saying that I can’t be critical, because I can.
I’m hopeful he’s listening more for the good stuff.

My feels for this man are deep and wide.
We were meant to find each other in this life, but only when we were truly ready to accept the other with an open heart.
I waited my whole life for YBW.
He was worth the wait.
He told me “I think I’m falling in love with you.” the first time we were in the same physical space after dating over the phone and email for a couple of months. The smartest thing I ever did was decide to trust him.
His love and his kindness are without measure.
His desire to do all he can for the people he loves is bigger than he is.
His sense of humor is twisted and kind of gross, yet he continues to amuse me.
He’s creepy and weird but it somehow compliments my own creepy weirdness.

He has loved me though the last ten years with a kind and playful heart.
I am grateful for his willingness to fix my problems even when I don’t need him to.
Him simply being him eased my anxious heart and helped me feel more calm and settled.
I am grateful to feel safe in his love.

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I’m a mood

It’s Wednesday and I’m trying to create a plan for my day…
Only I’ve literally done all the ‘things’.
Nothing left to sort or organize. Nothing to prep. Nothing to engage me creatively.
Other than laundry and food prep, I have no tasks or projects to keep me occupied. And truth be told, I don’t really care about food right now.
I’m reading, but even that’s not enough. I find myself finishing a chapter or two and looking around for something else to do.
Writing is tricky as I’m not sure what to say that doesn’t sound whiny AF.

Monday my big event was going over Michaels for a curbside pick up. Driving with the windows down and the beautiful sunny breeze was excellent. I almost just kept driving. Only I didn’t put on shoes before I left since I knew I wouldn’t have to get out of my car and it felt a bit ridiculous to be out and about without shoes, what if something happened and I had to walk?

Tuesday I stripped and remade the bed, laundered and folded sheets and towels. I skipped laundry day Friday because I had an appointment with the acupuncturist. So I also did clothes instead of just linens.
Even laundry didn’t help me perk up. Though it is nice to have everything clean.

I’m in a mood.
No, I am a mood.

I’m not entirely sad.
I’m not entirely angry.
I’m sure as fuck not content.

I’m tired. But not the kind of tired a good night’s rest alleviates. I’m the kind of tired that seeps into your bones and fills the very marrow.
And tired isn’t quite the right word either.

I’m searching for something I can’t quite put my finger on…
Something to keep my brain and body occupied in a positive way.

Perhaps I should go down to Thing 1’s and help her pack…of course making that trip twice in two months is over the top…at least it would give me something to do. And I could see that delightful fat baby!
That drive though…
Perhaps a quickie trip to see Thing 2? We could do a girlie hotel weekend! Are hotels even open?

I keep thinking inspiration will arrive via roundhouse kick to my soul…
So far, so nothing.

I’ve sworn off social media for a while. I can’t handle it anymore. I can’t stand how people claim to be woke then say bullshit like all lives matter.
Of-fucking-course all lives matter, but the only people dying in the streets are black people. So yes! Black lives are what matter right now.
I will never understand what it’s like to be a black person or other person of color in America, but by God, I am paying attention!

I’m grouchy.
I’m antsy.
I’m chock full of nervous energy with nothing productive to pour it into.
I am frustrated.
I am tired.

But above all, I am hopeful.
I keep looking for the silver lining. For the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. For the muses to show up and dazzle me.
Alas…here I sit. Writing about being a mood.
I appreciate your patience.

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things are just things

Y’all know Thing 1 and her family will be living in our house for a few months starting some time in July.
Y’all know YBW and I are eager to purchase and move into that townhouse.
The first of these will cause a change in the way we live in this house.
The second how we live in our new house.

This got me thinking about how I currently live in this house, how I want to live my remaining time in this house, and how I want to live in the new house.
Not how YBW and I live together. Those things must be decided by us as a unit.
I’m thinking how I want to live and what that means for me as a member of our household.

This thought process has been somewhat active as we begin to make preparations, but hatched into actual thoughts when I sent a photo to Thing 1 and Thing 2 asking if either of them had any interest in this item.

The story is my great aunt made this lamp for me. I don’t know when, but I do know I can’t remember a time when it wasn’t in my bedroom.
This Raggedy Ann lamp is a part of my life for as long as I can remember, but I don’t have any strong feels about it.
Thing 1 remarked that it’s one of those things that just stuck around.
The more I considered this, the more I realized that’s not a mindful way to live. At least I feel that way now about how I want to live.
Of late, I’ve worried that it may seem as though, and sometimes even feels like I’m just purging to purge, but I’m actually being super mindful about the way I want to live.
And what I surround myself with.
And what I leave behind needs to be the truest representation of the me I am (was?), and be simple for my daughters to handle.

I have this feeling it’s like shedding skin…
Or some sort of evolutionary process…
Leaving behind who you were in a mindful and respectful way and making room to become the next version of you…?

This is the last year of my forties, a natural phase of evolution as we get ready for a decade change. As I look at my life, I see how much my surroundings impact the way I live. By going through my things in a respectfully mindful way, I can prepare and environment that will meet my needs. Living my intention. Thriving in an environment that gives me everything I need with the bonus of things that foster learning and creativity. An environment in which I have enough room and the proper tools to grow into the next version of me.

Even though this lamp has been in my life as long as I can remember I don’t have any real feels about it.
Lack of feels is a strong indication that I don’t need it in my life which obviously means there’s no place for it in my house.
Purging to purge isn’t always healthy.
But being mindful about how I curate my environment is incredibly healthy.

My mom was not a full blown horder, but she was sure as hell a packrat. What I’ve learned about her since she’s been gone is that she saved things to fill emotional emptiness. By simply having these things she could feel the feels she didn’t have inside her.
She saved things that meant something because of the feels they evoked in her. Feels she couldn’t experience any other way.
My ex husband is exactly the same.
There is something about possessing particular items that provides some sort of emotion they otherwise lack (lacked). I truly believe it reinforces their stunted emotional growth. Then the weight of the things traps (trapped) them, so there’s no room to learn, or create, or grow.

I understand having great big feels about certain items. For me, a specific example of this is my Grandaddy’s wallet. It is of absolutely no use to me, but the feelings that bubble up in me when I hold it make it worth keeping.
But that is one particular item that is in a special place in my bookshelf that I can go to when I want to feel the intensity of those feels.
It doesn’t impact the way I live. It doesn’t block creativity or inhibit learning. It doesn’t waste space. It doesn’t keep me from growing as a human.
And I know as I write this that there will come a point in time I’ll be willing to let it go. Today is not that time.

I can’t be trapped by possessions. I need freedom to move. If I can’t move, I can’t grow.
I need to grow!
I want to evolve in my relationships with my friends.
I want to evolve in my relationships with my daughters.
I want to evolve with my granddaughter as she builds relationships.
I want to evolve in my relationship with my precious husband.

Things are just things.
At this stage of my life, my main focus is to curate my surroundings in a way that helps me thrive. Living my intention, learning and creating, and growing into the next version of me gives me all the feels.

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we regret to inform you

I got an email Friday morning.
It looked like this.

To be perfectly honest, I’m just beginning to process how I feel about it.
Here’s a quick look into that:
Wait. What?
Disappointment.
Incredulity.
Fuck you, Mason.
I’m not even surprised.
We regret to inform you? Aaand fuck you some more.
A competitive program. And I’m just not competitive enough?
But WHY am I not good enough?
Am I even mad?
I have absolutely no idea what I feel.
Shiiiiit! That was my plan. Now what am I going to do?

I sent the screen cap above to YBW and both the girls Friday morning before I went to school.
YBW was initially sad for me, “Oh no! I’m so sorry, baby!” then he was mad for me, “well…fuck them.”
It was the YBWest response, and it honestly gave me great comfort. Sometimes when you can’t get mad, it’s nice to have someone get mad for you.
Thing 1 replied, “Oh no!” then texted me a bit later on, “Oh no! I just got your email (sad face emoji)”
Thing 2 replied, “How are you feeling about that email?” then after a bit I got a text that said, “How are you feeling about that email? Or are you not ready to discuss it yet?”
These three people are my strongest support network. They each responded in a way that is unique to who they are.
My love, gratitude, and appreciation are bigger than I even have words.

I have been encouraged to feel my feels before I attempt to make any plans.
I have been encouraged to consider what my feels actually mean before I begin to decide how to move forward.
I have been encouraged with love and mindful conversation.
I have been encouraged with cocktails and hugs.
I have even been encouraged by Baby K’s sweet giggles. (Like, she doesn’t know what’s up she’s just happy to talk to her Birdie. Perhaps I should take a play out of her book?)

I asked my beloved friend and mentor Jessica to write one of my two recommendation letters.
I broke down and emailed her the screen cap this morning. She replied, “I’m speechless. My heart hurts for your heart. Hugging you! Loving you!”

My therapist wrote the second letter.
She doesn’t know yet. I’ll have that conversation with her when I’m there the first week of February.

Y’all, I am disappointed.
And a little sad.
And defensive AF.
I feel overwhelmed by making a new plan. (That’s exactly why I’m being encouraged to wait.)
This Destination girl is pretty much ‘fuck all y’all’ to the Journey right now.
However, I am aware that the Journey is meant to be what’s important. (but fuck that too)

YBW suggested I take an allotted amount of time to swim around in my feels. Then amended the suggestion in case it wasn’t enough time. I’m not sure I’m actively feeling my feels. I mean, I don’t actually feel anything.
Me calling out: I’m going to need a minute over here!

Am I feeling?
Am I suppressing?
Am I feeling all the things at the same time and therefore can’t sort them out?
Seriously, fuck this.
Well, it’s pretty clear I’m feeling that, huh?

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I DID IT!!

I did it!

My paper passed with flying colors on Tuesday afternoon! Shortly thereafter, I submitted my final project.
I finally stopped checking to see if it passed yesterday when I received that text from my adviser!

My first term started April 2009.
My last term started April 2019.
It took me ten years to finish this degree plan.
Ten of the roughest, yet most wonderful years of my life.

I couldn’t have done it without the love and support of my family!
Thing 1 and Thing 2 were my cheerleaders. Supportive when I was down and didn’t think I’d ever finish, celebrating when I was successful. This last term, they were almost as invested in these courses as I was.
As much as I did it for myself, I did it for them.

When I shared the news with Thing 1, her pride and joy were reflected in her voice. That did my momma heart good! My girl is proud of me! I’m so grateful for that!

I didn’t get to talk with Thing 2, but she texted me:

YBW was on his way home from work when I called him.
“Hi baby!” he said.
“I DID IT!”
His pride and joy were enormous!
How did I want to celebrate?
I said, “I just want to hug you!”

To be perfectly honest, I expected to feel relieved to no longer have the albatross ’round my neck.
I was in no way prepared to experience the range and intensity of my feels!
I had no idea how aware I would feel of the years of hard work.
I didn’t realize how proud I would feel.
I was (and remain) unbelievably aware of my gratitude.

I did it!
But I didn’t do it by myself, y’all.
My precious husband has loved and supported me through this process.
His gentle encouragement. His assistance to help me through the dreaded math courses.
His kindness when I wanted to give up, but couldn’t let myself.
I could never have done this without him.
He loved and encouraged me. Cheered my successes. Asked the difficult questions when I needed to hear them.

He was the first one to use the phrase ‘college graduate’.
All the feels!

I knew I couldn’t decide on a place to celebrate with dinner, so I chose to celebrate with cocktails!

Just YBW and me, quietly toasting the pay off of my hard work.

I am chock full of love and gratitude.
My cup truly runneth over!

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