I'm going to be posting two posts today, but the other one will be kink-related, so be aware. Or beware. However you feel about that particular expression of sexuality.

I've been feeling… off… lately. I think since the Arthritis Introspective G8 Conference in Milwaukee two weeks-ish ago. Don't get me wrong, it was a great time and I made some fantastic business/advocacy connections, not to mention at least one solid friendship which I suspect will last a lifetime. I didn't learn much that was new to me, which surprised me, honestly. I didn't realize how much I already know about rheumatological diseases in general, and living with them in specific. I impressed myself, actually. lol. However, it was difficult in the sense that there were a lot of people there who do all this amazing volunteer/advocacy/professional work to support the arthritis community and raise awareness and change legislature to benefit the citizens of the arthritis community, and it left me feeling basically like a big, fat loser.

I already have a difficult time with the reality of having to leave my work at the Healing Journey, which  is my baby, having nurtured it from the ground up and having actively been a part of almost every step of its growth until a year and some change ago… whenever it was I stopped working. Two years? Yeah, I think so. Time flies, really, and I forget when I stopped doing this or that. They aren't exactly milestones that I wish to remember and celebrate. Although… maybe I ought to do just that? Maybe I should pinpoint the milestones of my disease(s) progression and find some way to look at them in an optimistic light, or at least not be totally broken over them. Have a tea party with friends for every "anniversary", or do something symbolic and meaningful to honor the tough decisions I've had to make in the past. I like that idea. I personally feel that symbols and representations are immensely powerful and can be crazy healing if used in earnestness. It goes along with my slow research and interest in paganism/nature-based "religion". I'll have to think on that and see what comes to mind.

Speaking of symbols and representations, did you notice that I got my nose pierced?! Oh, and my lobes got another hole in them as well. This ties into my "funk" in a sense, because one of my greatest gripes about my time as a super Christian is that I had to so severely curtail my personality and present an image that wasn't really me, and to me that hearkens right back to the extremely abusive and dysfunctional environments in which I was raised. I was actively told to keep the true nature of our home life a secret from the authority figures in my life, such as the school teacher at the small church school I attended from first to eighth grade. At home as well, I learned early to cultivate or feign an interest in whatever my step-dad was into, to avoid as much pain as possible and garner as much affection as he was willing to dole out. So that means that the Raiders became my football team, I loved video games and Final Fantasy VII, I watched WWF wrestling and had a favorite wrestler, though I deviated there by favoring Goldberg instead of Sting. It was a survival mechanism, in childhood as well as in adulthood. I needed an identity, acceptance, because I had so long stifled my own identity and could not accept myself. How could I? I'd been told in various ways, most non-verbal, that who I was naturally was unacceptable. Such is the nature of abuse, of the power and control wielded by the strong, abusive person or people. They efface the identity of the weaker, tell them who and what to be, becoming ever more powerful with each act of compliance. It's awful.

My teenage years, the high school years, were a reprieve. I dressed how I wanted, collected and hoarded the things I found interesting, listened to "my" music… but it left me isolated and ostracized, for the most part. I always had a few friends, but most people stayed away from me. Apparently they were afraid or intimidated because I seemed so self-confident and assured, but it was a complete facade. I did enjoy those years of relative freedom, though. It was during that time that I met my husband and we fell in love. He became the person who knew me the best; my true self. Every gory detail was open to his eyes and ears… eventually. And he accepted me. That laid the very first foundation for healing, though it was many years before any significant healing would take place.

Now, I'm recovering from my years in bible college and as a worker for my denomination in a small, backwoods area of Idaho that was more conservative than anything I'd ever seen before. I know that I was probably considered very liberal, though I was considered extremely conservative where I came from. It's funny how that superficial identity can shift from place to place, depending on the perceptions of those around you. But I'm still scared to fully express myself, because of social media and the circles I'm still friends with. I want to be "me", but I don't want to drive away or alienate my old friends whose views I understand but don't necessarily agree with. And more than anything I don't want to be evangelized. I'm not "lost". In fact, although I've felt so "blah" since the conference--something I later realized to be the product of travel exhaustion and PMS--I still feel the strength and confidence that I possess in myself keeping me afloat. I have times where I doubt myself, get down on myself, even hate myself still. It happens from time to time. But one of the things that I hated most while trying to be a Christian was having to give away my power and give the credit for my strength and my accomplishments to god. You know what I mean-- you are never actually the one who does anything, because it's god engineering the circumstances and giving you strength and telling you what to say, right? It reminds me of playing with dolls or figurines/action figures. I said what I was supposed to, but I was constantly bewildered by the fact that I was the one who worked hard and poured out my effort and strength, yet I was supposed to ignore my own willpower (because relying on your own willpower is a sin, I think) and demurely say "praise god!". It just didn't sit right with me. Again, probably because of the lifetime of abuse and domination where my power was taken away again and again and again, my accomplishments diminished and ignored.

I get that a lot of my beef with my denominations beliefs stem from my sensitivity to abusive tactics. Some might say that I'm overreacting and interpreting abuse and dysfunction where there is none, but I believe that, because of my sensitivity, I see what others may not be aware of. They may be fine with ignoring their part in things and giving all the credit to god, but I'm not. Human beings are remarkable, and capable of so much. I think that it does a disservice to humanity and our potential when our strength, our creativity, our amazing power to endure the unthinkable and come out the other side hopeful and gracious, all that is attributed to the subtle workings of a divine being who is way out of our league when it comes to that kind of stuff. What about the incredible contributions of atheists or other religions to humanity? I've been told that it's god working through them without their knowledge, but isn't that kind of invasive? If a deity is going to pop into my head and use me as a vehicle for his/her/their accomplishments, I'd kinda like to know about it. It feels like a conspiracy theory for Big Brother or something.

Anywayyyyy… moving on from that soapbox… you may have guessed this by now, but my piercings are symbolic for me of trying to be the best version of myself that I can be; my true, honest self. It's an "I've wanted this for a really long time, dammit, and I'm not going to let my fear of rejection or criticism stop me from expressing myself anymore!" statement. And you know what? I love my nose ring so much. I think it looks really attractive, and I like who I see in the mirror a little more now that I have it. I feel a little more badass, more ready to take on whatever comes to me, a little more bold and creative. I feel unstoppable, really. All that from a couple little circlets of metal. Go figure.

This feeling of uncertainty, of "blah-ness" that's been haunting me for the past five or so days has also led me to take a step back and evaluate my life. I don't want to waste away on the couch for the rest of my life, but I do recognize that I'm in a transitional phase right now. It won't always be like this, but right now I'm trying to find diagnoses and learn to manage what I already know about. It's a lot of work and time and energy, and I don't have much left over for anything else except maintaining my marriage and a few select friendships. In fact, I really need people to be proactive if they want to interact with me at this point. I'm exhausted all of the time, and I am sleeping a good deal of the 24-hour day. I spend a lot of time with my cats and snakes, too, when I'm awake. Mostly because I can do that while I'm doing other stuff, but mostly mostly because my cats follow me around and sleep next to me and take my spot if I get up for something.

I have a few bits of news that's developed recently, as well. Firstly, I was denied disability again. Everyone who knows me and has heard is more or less incensed, because they believe that I qualify without reservation, and moreover that it would be a huge benefit for me and my husband. I feel the same way. I'm really ticked off, because they claim that they carefully reviewed my records, yet the list of diseases I have is not only incomplete but one of them is totally wrong!! Nowhere in my medical records does it state that I have hyperthyroidism. I struggle with hypothyroidism, something that's given me much grief and physical suffering through the years. Uncontrolled, it is debilitating in its own right. Corey and I both agree that it's time to seek a lawyer's help. I also received a private message from an acquaintance who is a disability lawyer in a different state, and she said as much before I even discussed it with her in depth. I felt quite affirmed in kind of a silly way while Corey and I were discussing the disability ruling and our next move. I suggested that maybe I am just "being a pansy" and I'm not as sick as I think I am? Maybe I just need to suck it up and try harder? Corey looked me in the face and said, "No. You are not a wimp or a pansy. You are sick, and they're wrong." I know that if I were simply being lazy, he would call me out on it. He agrees and says that he'd tell me to go do something. lol. It was nice, though, knowing that my hubby not only agrees with me, but he understands the severity of my issues and believes that I am doing my absolute best to be "well" (or just "better") and productive. It warmed my heart.

In other news, I began physical therapy today! The great part is that she comes to my house once a week, so I don't have to arrange transportation for that as well. It's hard enough trying to find rides for all of my dr's appointments, much less the ones in other cities or states! Seriously. That is the biggest thorn in my side besides the Intractable Pain. (The pain which the good ol' disability folks didn't list among my diseases or take into consideration, apparently.) I have a chart of exercises to get through, and the repetitions are low for now. We are starting small and working up, not only because of my hypermobility, but also because of my extreme fatigue. At first, my goal is to do all of the exercises within two days. She showed me sitting variations for almost all of the 9 exercise moves, so that's a really good thing for me. Did you know that there's a sitting variation for crunches?! Yeah. I'm super freakin' thrilled, especially because I mentioned that doing sit-ups or crunches on the ground makes my hips pop during every rep and it's quite painful. I had to deal with that through years and years of high school P.E. classes, and I'd like to avoid it if at all possible… which it is!!! Joy to the world ^_^

That's about all for now. I feel that I've rambled quite enough for one night, and I still have that "other" post to do. I have a project that I'd like to get done this evening as well, so maybe I'll take a typing break and work on that for a bit. I plan to get on the internet more frequently in the near future. I have the desire, if not necessarily the drive for it. I was feeling guilty for a while, but then I just realized that this is the phase I'm in right now. I don't need the internet as a constant distraction from my raging pain, because it's being managed fairly well, and I have other things that take up the increasingly minimal hours that I'm awake. In all truthfulness, too, being online exhausts me. It's just tiring, and I'm already so tired that I don't feel like handling that extra tiredness as well. That's usually why I avoid it these days. But I'm starting to feel a hankering to participate again, to come out of my isolation a bit, and the internet is the way to do that. So I may be posting more often, lurking on Facebook a bit more, and hanging out on the kinky message boards I read more frequently. Just as I'm launching PT to strengthen my body, I think that I could use some social strengthening as well. I'll give it a go, anyway.
Toodle-oo!

Stay At Home Moms = Angels

I saw this video today, and it awoke an ache in my heart.

I want to be a mom. People tell me I'll make a great mom. I came close a couple of times, but lost the babies very early on.

Now, however, I watch this video and I'm terrified.

Terrified of wanting something that badly.

Terrified of the awful risk of loving someone else that much, because life is not certain but pain is inevitable. I already deal with the fear of losing my husband. I'm not sure I can handle the fear of losing a child... especially after it is born and I have known it for months and months and become attached.

Terrified that I'll never be well enough to be a mother. I saw all the moving, bending, twisting, talking, bathing, lifting, carrying, etc. that these moms are doing just as a matter of course. I know that I cannot exert that kind of energy throughout the day, much less day after day. It's just not a physical possibility for me right now. And so I have this ache in my heart... this fear that I will never be well enough to be the mother that my child would need. Is it fair to them to bring them into the world knowing full well that I can't care for them like a "normal" person would, just because I want a family? I don't know...

On the other hand, who's to say that I wouldn't still be a spectacular mom? I mean, we could bring in a nanny or something to help me with the physical side of things. It doesn't have to be conventional.

I dunno. There's just so much fear and trepidation and hope and longing wrapped up in the idea of having children... and it seems like so many of my peers are popping out babies right now. It brings the thought to the forefront of my mind.

We're not ready for kids yet; not right now. In a few years, yes. Maybe by then I'll be better.

Honestly... I'm not even sure I really want to be a mom. Not 100%, anyway. The idea is appealing, but can I really handle the reality? I'm afraid I'll regret it... and that would be the worst, for all of us.

Okay, so funny thing about how plans work out... they sometimes don't.

I went to bed all early and stuff... but I can't stay asleep. I'm waking up every hour or so, and now I'm just not tired anymore. (It could be the pain...? But it's not that bad! But bad enough to where I can't sleep in certain positions... I dunno. Whatevs. I took a tramadol and hopefully that will help me knock back out. Gotta do what you gotta do.)

Anyway, as I was drifting off the first, second, and third times, I was thinking about a few things... one of them being how my friend H encouraged me in my writing today. She sent me a message that went thusly:

"So for the whole month of February I've been trying to write one stinkin page on my courtship website and have been having the hardest time doing a page about the Proverbs 31 woman. I thought to myself, I bet I could ask C what she would write and she could come up with a really good intro in like two seconds. Just thinking about talking to you or asking for your help INSPIRED me! Seriously. 

I just finished reading this blog post (SUPER GOOD BLOGGER!) and I just HAD to tell you that you REALLY have a gift for writing. With your fibro thing going on and having low energy and all, you can really make an impact on this world through writing. That IS your gift. I like following your blog - largely because I care about you, largely because it educates me in my pursuit to be a good counselor, but another large factor is that it's just well written!"

Yes, well... clearly, it meant a lot to me. A lot. (And I hope you don't mind my sharing it, H!) And the funny thing is that I've been thinking lately about how I can make a contribution to the world now that I'm so "diminished" in other ways... It's like, "Okay, my definition of productivity has totally been turned on its head. How can I still be productive without judging myself on what I accomplish on a daily basis?" Writing could be it. I don't know what that will look like, exactly, but I feel that my feet are set on that path, and I'm slowly but surely walking toward something. I've felt that way for a little while now, and it's kinda exciting. Hard, 'cause you know me and waiting for stuff, but exciting.

That led me to begin thinking about other ways I can reach out and make a difference (while making a living), and the idea for an Etsy store came to me while I was drifting.

Okay, related side note: S has found a place to live and will be moving out within the next few weeks. That means that we'll have a spare bedroom, and C said that I can have it to move all of my crafty stuff (and wedding stuff) into! That means that I'll actually get to set up my easel! So I was thinking about how, once I have a space to work in, I can start making stuff, and how therapeutic it was for me to make that spoon last week...

And that led me to thinking about creating an Etsy store that specializes in survivor awareness jewelry, keychains, bookmarks, and art. Survivors of chronic illnesses, survivors of abuse, invisible illnesses... Like, I could have a whole "line" of stuff just for and about spoonies, featuring and made of spoons, and I could even make more of those "inspirational spoons" and feature them as gifts for the spoonies in people's lives... and I could have another line of stuff related to abuse survivors... and I could also put up the art that I create in various mediums. I'm thinking of a name something along the lines of The Art of Survival, or something like that. While the majority of profits would go towards defraying my medical bills (I really want to help R out on that one!), 10% of any profits would go toward various organizations that promote awareness of and healing from chronic illnesses and abuse.

While I don't have the resources to invest in jewelry and keychain making materials, I can definitely pick up cheap, older jewelry from thrift stores and take it apart to reassemble the parts into what I desire. As far as bookmarks and art goes, well, I'm always seeing things at Goodwill and the dollar store that I'm like, "Oooh, you know what I could make out of that?"

C says that, if I think I can do it, go for it. I'm thinking that I'll wait until after the wedding to even try thinking of it. I may put it off until this summer, even, when I don't have classes. We'll see. Definitely not until after the wedding, though! I think it would be fun to try to pursue this, even if it doesn't pan out like I'd hope that it would. (Hoping to become somewhat self-sufficient, income wise!)

And for now, I'll be patient and see where my writing takes me. I feel like I can't really contribute much in the way of fibromyalgia awareness or anything until I get mine under control, you know? My diagnosis is so recent and my symptoms so unpredictable that I feel like the only thing I really understand is the "freak out" stage... and I don't even have the answers for that yet!! lol

We'll see. We'll see. For now, it's enough to just dream...

A lot has happened just in the past few days!

I was doing some research on fibro a few days ago, and learned quite a bit. This site has been a huge help in understanding my situation in layman's terms, and kinda coming to grips with the fact that, hey, I'm not the only one who goes through this! I mean, I knew that before, but it was more of an intellectual assent, rather than a realization that my struggles are shared by others. Granted, each one of us struggles uniquely, buuuuuut... I'm not as alone as I sometimes feel. (It seems that whenever I hear of others who have fibro, or meet them--which is a bit rarer-- it's either discouraging because they're totally disabled now despite their best efforts, or it doesn't really affect them and they don't understand why I have such a problem with it. Either way, I come away feeling kinda... mer. Oddly enough, the person I identify with most and draw the most courage and inspiration from are my friends with cancer!)

While researching J's gift, I ended up coming across a book that deals with sex when you've got a chronic illness. I, of course, don't seem to need much help in that area lol, but I did the "Look Inside!" feature, out of curiosity, and what I read blew me away. The section that I read was not about sex, really, but about the different "myths" about people with chronic illnesses. I ended up ordering the book, because I feel that it will help me better come to grips with my condition and not get so down on myself for being "compromised" and not being "enough".

I tell you, the Should Monster has a heyday with my illnesses, because when it whispers in my ear that I should be functioning at a higher level than I am... I agree! I want to be better than I am, and I find myself in dangerous territory. It is a constant battle to maintain hope and courage without crossing the line into Should-fueled functioning. I did overdo it yesterday, and I'm paying for it today. (I'm actually sitting in my rheumatologist's waiting room as I type this, and I'm going to tell him how badly I'm doing, and how rapidly the decline is going. I'm going to tell him that I literally cannot function without painkillers anymore, and even when I take them, it's to keep the pain at a 3 or 4 so that I can function. It doesn't take away the pain. It just makes it bearable.)

While in yoga last week, we chose an affirmation/intention to repeat as a mantra while we went through our movements that day, and I chose to repeat, "I am perfect health." I've been trying to maintain that as a mantra throughout the week, but I honestly felt like a hypocrite when I say that, because I'm not perfect health, and that's pretty obvious. So am I to deny reality in favor of wishful thinking? Then I got to thinking about what "perfect health" means, and I wonder if "perfect health" doesn't mean something different for every person? Like honoring your practice, finding your own personal, optimal balance... I dunno. Still figuring it out. But one intention that really worked for me, and that I've found coming back to me quite frequently, is one that says, "I am enough."

That's especially important for me to believe right now as I'm down so low health-wise. I mean, a One Thing A Day Rule? I could so easily run with that and kick myself into a depressive, discouraged spiral... but I won't. Because no matter where my health is at, no matter what my abilities to achieve are, I am simply enough. My being enough does not hinge on what I can or cannot do, it is because I simply  am. Even if I were in a vegetative state, dependent upon machines for the very breath in my lungs, I would still be enough. And you know what? My beloved agrees! He has proven that he will not leave my side, no matter how much or how little I can do, no matter how ill I feel, no matter that I can't take care of him in all the ways that I would like to, that I can't fulfill my dream ideal of "wife" or "partner". Nope, I am enough for him, simply because I am. He loves me, not my chores :) And that is an amazing, amazing truth to hold on to.

The same with my family. They've seen me through so many ups an downs, twists and turns... so many changes in my life and lifestyle while trying to be a good person and live a good life... but they've always just loved me, because I am enough. Whether I'm a SuperChristian or a fornicating heathen, whether I can take the dogs for a jog or have to depend on the Bling Chariot to get around, whether I cook amazing food or cook amazing food (Hehe...), they just love me, because I am enough. Me, I, just myself, I am enough. It doesn't matter what I can and cannot do. And I feel the same about each and every one of them. They are enough. They really are. So that's something that I've been hanging onto lately.

So, back to the fibro research! That was a divergence, but an important one that I needed to get out.

I realized after reading an article about fibro and pregnancy that C and I will have to be very intentional about starting a family. We can't just show up pregnant one day, because I will have to get off of all my meds prior to becoming pregnant, else they might adversely affect the baby. And we saw how that kind of thing goes with the colonoscopy, (very, very badly, if done abruptly) so I'll have to spend a good period of time weaning myself off of them, particularly the painkillers... And that means that I'll have to be in a decent place with my fibro to begin with, so right now is clearly not a good time to be considering a family! (Also, I'm not allowed to be pregnant during the massage therapy program, so it's rather impossible at this point...) So basically, we should start planning our pregnancy about a year in advance, to give me time to wean off of the meds and rely more heavily on alternative therapies to manage the pain and symptoms. It could definitely be a good thing, as I might be able to simply stay off of the meds afterward, which is my goal for some point in the future anyway... and I'll have to be off of them as long as I'm breastfeeding, of course. I did read that, though fibro does not adversely affect a pregnancy in the physical sense, it does aggravate the pregnancy symptoms that women typically experience, and I guess pregnant ladies are more prone to fibro flares. So it really could be a miserable time for me, and afterward could be pretty bad (because one of my triggers is lack of sleep, and we all know that newborns don't exactly let you lounge around in bed all day...), but I just have to decide whether it's worth it and if it's something that I really want. (I do.) C will have to step in and help balance out the domestic load for me, or we'll have to have someone come in and help for a while, like a live-in nanny or something, because I don't think that I can just hit the ground running like some moms can. It'll definitely be a planning scenario, that's for sure! No spontaneity here, lol. And while I'm on birth control for other reasons, I am very grateful for the fact that they let us decide when we want to have children. It is a distinct advantage, in our case.

And the last thing that I wanted to touch on before I get to my One Thing for today (putting away laundry and unpacking my suitcase-- I haven't gotten to it yet, because other One Things seemed to be more pressing!) is the wedding.

I was definitely disappointed to find that so many of the people that I wanted to share my big day with weren't able to come. You hear that saying about how the wedding is about the bride and groom, right? Well, for me that's not entirely true. For me, the day is about us, yes, but also about the people that I care about. That is a very important part of the occasion for me, and I felt like that was being ripped away from me, leaving me helpless and sad. Another part of it is that I have so many people that I love scattered so far and wide, and they've all impacted my life in such a huge way-- these people have helped to make me who I am today! So how can I have a celebration that is essentially about two people without honoring those who helped contribute to the forming of those two? It doesn't make sense to me. Many of these people have never met each other, and I feel like they should, because they're all puzzle pieces that make up the whole that is my heart. So I had really set a lot of hopes upon all my loved ones being there, I guess, and to not be able to do anything about them not coming, well... it was a bit tragic.

You can imagine my overwhelmed joy, gratitude, and utter shock when C (adopted mom) called me yesterday to inform me that they've been working behind the scenes and have decided that if I can give the money I'd set aside to help J travel to the wedding (which she won't be needing anymore, obviously) to them, then they will put together the rest that's needed so that H (one of my besties and my day-of coordinator) can drive down with K and J, as a wedding gift to me.

Let me repeat that in less convoluted terms.

C and D are gifting me with the presence of H, J, and K at my wedding. Sure, they're my day-of coordinator and my musicians, but they're more than that-- they're my friends, my sisters, my companions in the journey of life! They've been there for some of the hardest parts of my healing journey, and now they get to see all that hard work come to fruition as we celebrate my happy, healthy relationship. It would have been amazing for them to come without any problems, but for this gift to come from C and D makes it super, super meaningful. It's like a part of C and D will be there, because they sent my friends. They are the ambassadors of love from C and D, and I am profoundly humbled to realize that they love me that much. (And why? Because I am enough. ^_^) It literally brings tears to my eyes, because I don't know what to do with that kind of love, or even how to absorb it, really. It makes me want to just throw myself at them in service and somehow show them how grateful I am for them and how much I love them, too!

I am going to work my tail off to get this internet idea to become a reality. I know it's a possibility, but I am going to make it work! I need to be able to share this with them. My gift to them, I guess....

See how happy I am? It's because of you, what you taught me... the hope you gave me... I wouldn't have believed in happy, healthy marriages if it weren't for you two. I had no hope, but you changed all that. So see how happy we are? It's because of you. Thank you.

I asked C last night a couple of clarifying questions, because I didn't want to get my hopes up if there weren't any reason for it.

From the financial timeline he laid out, I got the impression that we would be ready to start looking for a house about the time that I get back from visiting the folks for Christmas. (That's about a month from now, for those of you keeping track.)

I asked if that were truly the case, and he said, "Yeah, that sounds about right."

Wait, seriously? We're going to be ready to look for a house when I get back?

"Unless something happens that sets me back, yeah."

WAHOOOOOO!

I excused myself under the blankets for a moment and silently screamed my excitement.

It's going to fly by, because I have several Big Events between now and then, and we all know that helps to speed things up.

Test tonight, then finals next week. Then the HJ Christmas party, followed by my CPR class, the day after which I will fly home.

Then it's two weeks of crafting, cooking, and enjoying my niece and family, during which time Christmas and New Year's will come and go, of course.

Then it's back home, rest for a few days, and school commences almost immediately.

Whew. Talk about a whirlwind adventure!

But still. I'm so excited.

Oh, yes, did I also mention that I'm engaged now? I mean like, officially officially. As in, he got down on his knees and all that :)

I believe a backstory is called for, yes?

This morning as I was getting ready for school, I went to go put my ring on. Much to my shock, surprise, and dismay... the little white box wasn't where it usually was. Figuring C must have moved it somewhere, I made a mental note to ask him about it later and grabbed my celtic medallion instead.

I was doing work/homework when C got home tonight, but I put it aside and followed him into the bedroom for some quality time/conversation, as I usually do. Amidst playful banter and stories about my professor, I asked him what he had done with my ring. Of course, he pretended to not know what ring I was talking about, or what I was talking about at all! Naturally, I plied him with questions as to why in the world would he hide my ring?!

So, here's the set of the scene-- he's gotten up from the bed where we were nestled cozily and swung himself into his big computer chair, and I'm sprawled across the covers facing him. He won't tell me where it is ("I guess you'll just have to find it!"), but he does crack a few jokes about thinking about being super devious and switching out the ring in the box for a different, older ring (one that doesn't even fit anymore!), about hiding it partially to see how nuts I would go looking for it. He didn't make it hard to find, though. As he swiveled around in his chair, it was plain to see that the little white box was sitting on top of the low bookshelf behind him, blending in with the white wall behind and the white alarm clock next to it.

"I found it!" (In my defense, it was dark in the room this morning. And I had to hit the door or I would be late. No time for a hunt.)

He picked up the little white box, opened the lid, and spent a few moments in quiet contemplation. Then he looked up at me, a funny expression on his face. I couldn't stop the excitement from rising within me as he slid to his knees, stating that he wanted to make it official. He pulled the ring from the box, took my hand, and as he slid the ring on my finger (after I showed him the right hand to put it on lol) said, "I do want to marry you. I love you." He was gazing into my eyes with this super melty, super lovingly intense look.

I replied, "I want to marry you too. I love you."

It's all kind of a blur, really. That's as specific as I can make it, and I'm not even sure I got the right phrases in the right places or the precise sequence of events. It doesn't really matter, I think. I just want to remember the sweetness of the moment, the silly grin on his face and how he was practically giggling at the fact that we're engaged! I was totally silly, too, grinning like a fool and kicking my heels.

Me: Wait, so... you really just proposed to me?
C: I assume so. I'm pretty sure that's what that was.
Me: Squeeeeee! *huge grin*
C: *goofy grin*

C: Now you can show off to all your friends.
Me: ... You know me too well.

C: I'm glad you're back.
Me: Me too.

So why'd he hide my ring? Because he wanted to give it back to me before I "stole" it again! Hah!

He was planning on taking me out to our special lake, "stealing" his dad's boat, and having the guys disguised in the boat with signs. As they went past, he would point the boat out to me, and the guys would be holding signs that said, "MARRY HIM!!!" However, I was out of town this last weekend, and he just couldn't wait, so he did it tonight.

You know what? I'm not disappointed. Not at all. It was so... us. So him. So sweet and simple and just a genuine outpouring of love.

He said that he was waiting until I stopped expecting it. As we all know, that only happened like, a week ago! Hence the "delay".

*Sigh*

I have found the one whom my soul loves. And I guess he liked it 'cause he put a ring on it.

Squeeeeee!

Good gravy, did I ever learn a lot today!

I feel much more confident in the direction I need to go for planning the wedding, though.

Again, it won't be exactly what I'd dreamed up in the days of yore (having no concept of a budget...), but it will be intimate, fun, and incredibly "us".

I met with a local photographer today, and while I can't afford her, she gave me invaluable information and helped me to sketch out the rough details of what the ceremony and reception will look like. We ended up talking for an hour and a half!

For instance, now I know that a typical ceremony will take 20 minutes if you're not rushing it. The ceremony and reception will probably last 2 hours, all in all. I wanted an afternoon wedding and an evening reception, so in order to work the time frame I had in mind, we'll start the ceremony at either 4:30 or 5 (depending on whether or not I want it to run into "dark time").

She had the brilliant idea of hitting up the photography club at the high school, too. Aaaaand, get this: although I can't afford any of her packages, she wants me to use her name as an influencer (like name dropping) if I need to, and she's willing to walk through the shots we'll want with the photographers that I find, free of charge. Basically, she'll teach them some of what she knows. Her knowledge combined with their talent will be phenomenal! (Aaaaaaaand, even better... she can't "book" with me, because she needs to leave that day open in case a $4,000 bride comes along, but if she has the spot open, she'll come out and shoot the wedding for me for way cheap, because it's only a couple of hours. She'd treat it like a family event or something along those lines.)

She was impressed by how much I've sorted through already, how much I've got planned, and the way I'm working within my budget. She says I'll have no problem sticking to my budget. What she did was grill me on all the details, to see if I really meant it when I said "I'm on a budget", because she gets brides in there who want big discounts, but in reality are throwing money around. So once we established that I'm anything but a mainstream bride and that I am, indeed, sticking to $1,200 or less, she's totally willing to help me out how she can.

I'm so excited! I feel like I got a lot accomplished today. Now... for HJ work and homework. Never ending. *eye roll* Plus I need to whip up a couple of meals for this week's lunches... I'm thinking lentil soup and veggie lasagna in a jar. I have onions, walnuts, and cauliflower, so I can make that yummy "ricotta" filling, and even freeze some for later use! (The great thing is that I can study A&P slideshows while I'm working the kitchen, so that'll be two birds with one stone. Go me.)

Next things on my list for the wedding:
-Swing by the Parks and Rec office to see how much it is to reserve ramadas, and if we're allowed to have open flames (candles, grills, etc.)
-Price cakes and flowers at Albertson's
-Pay a visit to the Photography Club at the high school, see if they have any talent that wants to make some money (high schoolers would be even more willing to spring for experience + $100, I think).
-Check with Father B and see chapel size, or if he's willing to marry us in the park, and officiant prices.
-Decide when to send invitations, start picking them out and crafting wording.
-Alert J and K as to my song selections so they can start practicing.

Whoa. This is really happening. Like, for real for real.

Huh.

C and I are discussing my moving in.

Terrifying.

Why? For a number of reasons...

I mean, it's not like I don't want to live together. I made a point to sit down and talk with him about it specifically, because we'd been throwing the idea around a little lately, and I've been practically living at his apartment for the last month or so, for all intents and purposes.... but I didn't want us to just end up "sliding" into a living arrangement for the sake of convenience. I wanted to be sure it was something we both wanted. I want to make sure it's an intentional step in the direction of marriage, rather than something we just fall into.

And he does want me here, which is a relief. Somehow, I'm always still so afraid of rejection, even in the most seemingly secure relationships. But, like all things, he wants me to do this only if it's something I really want to do, not just as a matter of convenience. So we're on the same page, but the thing is... I know that I want this, yet at the same time... I have so many feelings that I just haven't looked at, and I can't fully say "yes" at this moment.

First of all, I'm afraid. I told C that yesterday, and he nailed it on the head-- "You're afraid of settling down, of putting down roots?" Yes, yes I am. C and I talked about that over our lemonade, as well, how I'll probably still go through these periods where I get the urge to run, and I just need to be honest and communicate. Because of our pasts, we're so used to just up and moving on, of constantly picking ourselves up and relocating when we're uncomfortable or feel like we need to. I know I have that tendency, I know I do. But C is so steady, that to live with him, to accept his proposal of marriage sometime in the future, means to be settled. In one place. Like, forever.

I don't know why I'm so afraid of settling down except that it signifies a lack of escape. Trapped, as it were. Yet, if there were any guy I'd want to be "trapped" with, it'd be C. I guess I'm just afraid that I'll find that I'm not happy, or that I made a wrong choice, and then I'll be stuck with no way to make it better and I'll be in this miserable state forever... just like so many of the marriages that I've seen over the past few years... just like Mom.

Oh, snap. I'm afraid of being my mother. I'm afraid of making the same mistakes she did... of marrying someone who seems like a good candidate because I feel it's my only chance, and then finding out that it's probably the worst decision I could have made, but then being trapped because I want to make it work and there are kids involved, and being a single mom is so hard, and...

I guess I'm afraid that if I take the plunge, suddenly everything will change. The happiness I know now will turn on its head, and I will be sad and stuck. Truthfully, things have been going so well lately, I'm just waiting for the axe to fall. How long can I go without having a breakdown? How long can I go without something bad happening? I don't know...

I'm also afraid of what people will think. At least right now, I can deflect the polite inquiries of church-going friends with the base truth that I'm still living at my grandparent's home. There are only a handful of people that know C and I are together, much less planning to marry. However, if I move in with him, I can no longer be evasive in that way. I'll have to tell the truth, to face the disapproval, to face the zealous efforts to win me back to the faith, to expend the energy it takes to be truly authentic and real about who I am instead of still hiding behind the thin veneer of Former Bible Worker... I'll have to actually set boundaries and keep them... instead of lying because it's easier.

God, I've been lying. I've been lying because I'm afraid. I've been lying because I'm so tired of everyone knowing what's best for me, what I should be doing, how I ought to be living, how to "fix" me... I just want to live my own life, my unique, beautiful life, without having to fend off well-meaning efforts to transform me into something I'm not.

And I'm sorry. You know I hate lying. I hate fakers. I hate hypocrites. And you do, too. I'm so sorry. I don't want to be a liar, but I just don't have the courage to be real... but I want to. Can you help me? Help me to be real? Help me not to lie anymore? I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was doing it at first, but once I was, it was too easy to continue. Help me to be wise about this truthfulness, please. Help me.

Another reason why I have hesitancy is simply because there's not much room for me or my things. Gma and Gpa said I can keep some totes in the sheds at their place (and that'll work fine until C and I get a house), and C says I can stack stuff in the corner of his room, and I think that'll pretty much take care of it. But C already has a roommate, and a bunch of guys that crash here on weekends sometimes. So I'm worried about having my "space", my "alone time"... but S is really good about being accommodating. He's very respectful. And I always have the porch, or C's room. And I was coming here to get away from Gma and Gpa's, where I didn't feel like I had a place or space of my own, either... so it's kind of no different... because I didn't have space for my things there, either. Felt like an imposition. I think I'd feel like less of an imposition here...

The big thing for me was that I'm trying to keep Sabbath, but it's hard here, because of DnD on Fri nights, and the guys all hanging around on Saturday for DnD that night... so, unless I take off or lock myself in C's room... but C's days off are changing from Fri-Sat. to Sun-Mon, which means that DnD will move to those nights, which means that there won't be all those guys hanging around and watching dumb tv on Sabbaths, which means that it will be much easier for me to create a Sabbath atmosphere. Worse comes to worse, I could always go hang out at Gma and Gpa's for Sabbath. Or, heaven forbid, start going to church again! lol

Once it cools down, I intend to take the day out in the desert and hike, so that won't be a problem. It's just these accursed summer months, where the days are SO long and it's SO hot... I don't know what to do with myself, and it's frustrating. You can only play guitar for so long...

And, also, I have to remember that it will not be like this forever. This is temporary. C's got vacation time coming up in August, and he wants to use that to house-hunt. I think that when we get a house, things will be a little different. Yeah, the guys will still come over for game night, but C will have his own "man-cave" room for that, and it basically just won't be a little apartment. Things are always more difficult, the less space you have.

I guess the basic question is, do I want to live with C or not? All those "difficulties" can be ironed out. That's a part of life. It will never go "just so".

But do I really want this?

Yes... but still hesitant. I guess I'm just afraid that it will be awful, that the difficulties will be too much, and that I won't like it... that I'll be dissatisfied... that history will repeat itself and that I'll just up and leave again...

I'm afraid to do what we did before, because I don't want it to end the same way.

And, I remember that when I moved in last time, I was so horrifically depressed. I mean, it was so bad... and I know somewhat why. Because I went from being away at school, surrounded by friends, to being alone most of the day. I didn't have friends anymore. I went to church, but then I came home to an empty house. My family had just moved across the country. C and B were my only real meaningful relationships, and I was incredibly lonely. I needed interaction, relationship.

Also, I had no job. I felt like a drain on C. I felt worthless and useless and like a bad person. I had no purpose. I had no hobbies to speak of. I was isolated, trapped, bored... so I baked. And that helped, some. But I was very bored, and aimless.

On top of all that, I had just gone through a summer of canvassing with very conservative folks, and then a year at my denomination's school, culminating in baptism. But my church frowns upon relationships with people who don't believe the same as you do, and especially frowns upon pre-marital sex and living together. That's not the way you do it. It's a sin. So I felt cut off from God, from my church... I lived in a state of condemnation.

And I was depressed.

And I still struggle with depression. I'm so afraid that it'll happen again...

But things are different, now. I'm different.

I'm stronger. I have a purpose. I have hobbies of my own. I have friends, meaningful relationships. I have a job (sort of!). I feel I have worthwhile contributions to make to the relationship. I have stood on my own two feet, and I know I can do that again if I have to. I can be independent if I choose. And... I believe a little differently now about God. I'm not living in that state of condemnation anymore. (Although I think I'm fearful that I'll go right back into it if I make this decision...) I have every reason to believe that things will be different this time around... and yet I am still afraid.

You can make a decision despite fear.

I may end up doing just that.

Note: I read this post to C when I was done, for the sake of communication and honesty. He... wasn't surprised. lol.  He knows I'm afraid, and that led to a side conversation about how (and I quote) "you have a comfort zone of running away". Wow, can he call it or what? It's just hard for me to fathom how blessed I am to have a guy who understands that I'm afraid, who knows that I prefer to run, who anticipates it and is okay with it and isn't threatened by it, and, fore-mostly, who loves me to pieces regardless. (Another quote--"I love you. I would never do anything to hurt you. I love you as much as you know... and then some!" Can we say, "Awwwww"?)

I've made my choice.

Maybe a bit impulsive, but I see the clear benefits.

It just seems like too much of a wide, inviting possibility for me to walk away from it.

Not that it doesn't come with its own prickles and spears of fear.

I... am afraid.

I'm afraid to settle down.

Change... it's what my family does best. We adapt. We flex. More than that...we move. New apartment, new city, new state, whatever. More than the average person, I suppose.

The wanderlust was bred right into me. (In addition, dysfunctional dynamics always require and instill a certain level of constant shifting, moving, changing, running.)

Then... we stayed in one place. For, like, 5 years. The longest I'd lived in one place in my whole life.

And then I escaped. I went away to school.

I came back, presumably to settle down, but the family was gone. I was isolated, lonely, depressed... restless...

So I left again. Bible college, this time. And oh, what a college. Constantly on the road---this city, that city, this state, that state... I think the longest I was ever in one place was our several month practicum. Always on the move.

It was familiar, if stressful. Then again, life before had been familiar, if stressful, non?

Then I graduated. I had no job, no place to live... but by the skin of my teeth, I got a job in ID a few weeks after graduation.

So I moved again. But the job wasn't for me-- I hated it. I was festering and crumbling on the inside, keening death-wails and tortured sobs of grief that few could hear through the thick, shiny veneer of Bible Worker that I had pasted on. So I quit, shortly after moving again.

This time... I stayed. I stayed for a while. Over a year. And--get this-- I thought I could stay. I mean, long term. I was ready for it. But, as tends to happen, the proverbial excrement began its inevitable ascent towards the oscillating cooling device, and... I moved.

Well, this time, I was going to move anyway, but it happened quicker than I had been anticipating.

So here I am, faced with the decision to settle down, or move.

I'll give one guess as to which I'm inclined towards.

I'm scared to try life, scared that I won't be able to hack it... I mean, who blames a nomad for being poor? They are not in one place long enough to accumulate any wealth to speak of. Who blames a nomad for having few meaningful relationships, or for being reticent and uninvolved in a community or church body?

When you're on the move, it frees you from so many responsibilities... preserves so much energy that would be expended in all these other places like family or friends or church or community or, heaven forbid, work.

I'm scared to try this serious relationship long-term. I've been told over and over again that "unless your relationship is built on God, it won't work, it's going to fail and be bitter and miserable and you'll realize too late you made a mistake". You know what? I think that's a lie, if it's presented as the determinate factor between success and failure. It's a contributing factor, but I don't think it's the thing that makes the difference between success and failure.

I think that there is more to it than that.

I think your souls have to be aligned at the deep level, and that's what a common belief in God does for you. But it's much more than that, so much more. (If it weren't, then what's the excuse for any divorce among Christians?)

And I realized today that I've heard this so much that I was believing that C and I couldn't ever really work. But you know what? I didn't know that we couldn't until I was told so. I never wanted to leave until I was told that it was bad for us to be together.

I've been scared to follow this to its natural conclusion, scared that what I've been told will be reality and that our compatibility and our commitment and our love will not be enough, will never be enough, for lack of this one element. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy. Brilliant, really.

But... it's not true.

And I also realized today that I really, really resent the attempts of Christianity to weaken and minimize the individual, to discount and force a surrender of the innate strength of a human soul. I don't think that is how God meant it to be. I resent anything that tells me I am not strong, that I am not capable. Because I am. I may be weak at times, but even in my weakness, there is an undeniable strength. God did not save me from being abused, so I took care of myself. I found ways to cope, to keep myself sane, to make it through. I had a really rough start, and maybe God allowed it to be that way for a reason that I don't understand, but I got myself through. And I'm not about to stop now. I'm going to take care of myself, because I can and I am capable of doing so. I refuse to be a weak person, even if I do have weak moments. They are undergirded with strength by my decision to keep pushing through, putting one foot in front of the other, no matter how difficult it becomes or how infinitesimal the progress seems.

If I can somehow reconcile this inner strength of mine with the teachings of God and his Jesus, then I will be a Jesus follower. If I find that Jesus' teachings are asking me to become helpless, then I will be a follower of the Creator and none other. If I find the Creator to be Yahweh, then I will follow him.

So far, I'm becoming sure that the Bible is no collection of myths-- it's historically verifiable, at least in a general sense. (Granted, not every specific has been proven, and I don't think that will ever be the case. But it's enough, for me.) These are the memories and tales of real people.

But I've decided... I don't want to flee anymore. I don't want to run away, frightened, any longer.

I want to stand my ground and be strong.

Even if that means... committing to something, or someone, or someplace... for the rest of my natural life.

And this is one thing that I can feel good about committing to. He keeps proving it to me over and over again. The way he interacts with my soul and my mind... his gentle compassion yet unyielding intellectualism... is a compelling paradox. And the way he supports me in my times of weakness let me know that this is a man I can depend on to guard my very life.

So... I get the man I love, and to pursue the career I'm dreaming of, and continue the ministry I've been given... all in one option.

Who could say no?

Why would I say no, but for fear?

I will flee no longer.

It's official...

• I'm starting school in July. Which means... I need to begin applying for loans THIS WEEK. (The finance lady at the school hasn't been very helpful at all when it comes to letting me know what I need to be doing and when. I'm pretty much figuring it out on my own. E, however, gave me some good info on loans and whatnot, so I feel more confident than I did twelve hours ago.)

This also means that I'm going to be seeing my ID peeps in approximately 6 weeks.

What a countdown.

I was so looking forward to taking C up there with me, showing him off, and taking him to my favorite places... but that'll have to wait for another time.

Now, I'm just looking forward to seeing my loved ones again. (I'm sure they will all marvel at my tan.)

• Pre-marital counseling is set. We begin next week, as does my own personal counseling. (The same afternoon, as a matter of fact!)

I felt very honored when C called me on his break to work out the schedule for our counseling, in response to my text earlier that day on the subject. It shows me that he places a priority on our relationship, on respecting my wishes to do this counseling together. Because, really... it could have waited until tomorrow.

• I've got the paint and the sander. I'm ready to rock and roll on redecorating the guest room (a.k.a. "my room"). That will be my project for the upcoming week. (I consider it to be a kind of "room and board" thing.)

• E had a brilliant, albeit obvious, idea today-- instead of freaking out about not being able to find a job that will hire me for 6 weeks (down to 5, now, by the time I get back from P and do my other work this week), why do I not simply go to a temp-hire agency and do work that way, day by day? Duh! Why didn't I think of that?

• I'm really mean to myself. I beat myself up a lot. It hurts. I wouldn't treat other people this way... so why do I do it to myself? (Well, actually, I DO treat other people this way in my head sometimes... I'm a real jerk inside my cranium.)

• I've got an awesome life. Truly. When E asked me, "So, what are you going to do now?", the answer was this: I'm going to go to school, get a degree, come back and marry the man I love, work with E and survivors, and massage people. Does it get any better?! (Not to mention that I'm going to settle down... which involves planting a garden! ^_^) 

And this "awesome life" puts my fears and distresses into perspective. Yes, I'm unemployed. No, I have no money to go to school on. But it's only 5 weeks. Five weeks. It's okay.

As D reminded me today... when God leads you, he also provides for you. "It's a package deal with him!" 

I love it.

Well, I chose to delay my trip by a day, on the advice of my doctor. However, I got the car packed and ready to go, minus my guitar and my kitty. Those came along with me on the day of departure.

It was only supposed to be a 16 hour drive to LV, but inclement weather dragged it out to a 20 hour drive, with a 4 hour nap. I rolled into town exactly 24 hours after I had left Idaho! How funny.

The trip from LV to Y went well, without any incidents but my kitten deciding that she enjoyed the space below the gas and brake pedals more than any other place in the universe, and trying to obtain lodging in her favored location... while I was driving!! (She was out of the cat carrier pretty much the whole drive with no problems. She just sat perched on my mountain of belongings like she owned the place. It was a sight to see!)

I had only intended to spend the night with my friends in LV. Instead, I spent the whole weekend!
My friends from SOULS insisted that I MUST meet their house mom, because she and I are just alike. I thought, "Yeah, yeah, sure... one of these situations..."

Funnily enough, they were right! She is, of course, a bit different, as we are different people, but we're remarkably similar. I could probably pass for her daughter, definitely a niece or some other close relative. We even have a similar facial structure and body build. She's taller than I am, though.

The absolute best part is how chill she is, especially when it came to my food allergies. She loves to cook, so it was just another challenge to her. This ranks among one of the first times I've visited someone and not felt like an imposition or a drag. The only other ppl I feel that way with are the C's, because their daughter S was GF, too. Anyway, I ate good. And I learned several new recipes, which I love. Oh, and I made copies of our Daughters of Summer Hill cd's and my solo Sound of Music cd for everyone in the house. To pay me back, K took me shopping at Goodwill and the dollar store to stock me up for my trip. What a blessing that was! (Today I ate the green beans for lunch, but they weren't ripe, so they haven't set well. Bummer. I love green beans.)

I accompanied my bible worker friends to the evangelistic series that was going on at the time, both meetings a day. I was so blessed! I love hearing truth out of the Bible, especially the way this speaker presents it. He's so balanced. The only thing I disagreed with was when he was talking about the "Mosaic law" and the statutes and feast days and all that. I mentioned it to S later, only to find out that her dad is a feast keeper, and he studied it with a mutual friend of ours, who is now a feast keeper as well! I guess it's nice to know about others of similar persuasions and convictions... Fellowship, you know. And, quite frankly, it's not safe to talk about with everyone. From what I understand, there's quite a bit of animosity about the subject, and you can get yourself kicked out of church by bringing it up. So, knowing who's "safe" is helpful. (So sad that it should be so in Christian churches. I mean, even if you disagree, do you really have to be hateful about it? So not Christ-like. "Kinda reminds me of the Jewelry Nazi," says Mom. LOL)

My canvasser/Bible worker friends, predictably, canvassed me on canvassing again. No, not canvassing, but leading canvassing teams this summer. I told them, "I don't do that anymore. It's not an option." They said, "Pray about it." I said, "No way am I gonna pray about it! It's not even an option!" They said, "Pray about it."

I did. Haven't heard any word from the Lord yet, though. I did have a nightmare about canvassing that night. LOL

L had a good talk with me. I actually came out and explained to him why I don't Bible work anymore, and why I don't plan to. (I never thought I'd tell him about that! I mean, he's the big guns. It would be impudent, right? Plus there goes my cover of "good SOULS graduate".) He basically told me that he hated canvassing too, but he did it because it was the work of God, and it was what God asked him to do. And he hasn't done it this whole time, either-- it was what God used to take him to the next steps. And God really used him in a powerful way. I mean, if he hadn't done it, SOULS wouldn't be here, and then I wouldn't have gone, and would I still be with C? The ripple effect is astounding.

He told me, though, something very profound-- "Christians are to change people's lives. That's just what we do." And we know that the avenue is between us and God. That is to say, that the specific means for that is dependent on the call God gives us, if that makes sense. Like, Ben Carson for example. God led him to be a neurosurgeon, and that's how he changes lives. L was led to be a canvasser, and to start a school, and other things, and that's how he changes lives.

I can't be afraid of the hard things God asks me to do. I've been thinking, and I realized that I've kinda swung outward farther than I should. Like, the abuse taught me, and the world around me corrobrated, "What you want doesn't matter." And that's how I thought God was. "What you want doesn't matter. You do what I say, because I say it, and that's the end of the story."

So I've been going to a lot of effort to prove to myself and those around me that what I want does matter, and I can do what I want! I do things because I want to, and that's the end of the story. I don't do things that I don't want to do anymore. People need to RESPECT my free choice, alright?!

Now, however, I hear God saying to me, "What you want does matter, and you have the choice to go that way. However, it may not be the best thing for you in the grand scheme of things. Do you trust me to do what I ask, even if you don't want to at the time? I love you. I'm not out to wound you or take away your freedom."

And... I'm getting the message that I'm to keep my car and not go after the truck and trailer right now. That is hard for me to take, because I had this whole idea of freedom and independence and security built up in my mind... and now I have to give that up?

Yet, I sense God saying to me, "I have blessed you so richly. Why do you want to throw that aside? This is what you need! Trust me. It's okay to want the truck, but trust me to give you what you need. I know the plans I have for you, and what fits into those plans best. Will you trust me more than you trust your anxious thoughts, or your dreams for the future?"

Oh my.

But, yes. I want to trust God more than anything else. I want the grand scheme, far flung, eternally solid happiness more than I want the immediate fulfillment of my dreams and desires.

Because, really... how long do we have here, anyway? Even if I got to keep my truck and trailer till I die... 70 years isn't that long. I think I can endure a little "discomfort" for those few years, especially when you compare 70 of that to a million of the other.

Eternity is waiting.

Trust is ensuing.

Yesterday I got sick, fever and all. (Okay, really, it shouldn't surprise me, since I've been fighting off a low-grade respiratory infection for... a month now? And I've had--relatively--quite a bit of sugar over the past few days, since it's a holiday and all. A chocolate bar and my very own container of mint chocolate chip ice cream. Oh, and I shared a gallon of green tea with J. Bad idea... but delicious. ^_^) So I didn't do much of anything, really. I stayed in my pj's most of the day.

Today... I stayed in my pj's until, like, 3 p.m. Didn't do much. The fever's half gone, just a very low-grade one of a degree or so. Paltry, really. (Emergen-C saves the day!!)

I'm torn between whether to enjoy and luxuriate in the freedom to do absolutely nothing if I wish, or whether to give in to the guilt and scorn I feel toward myself upon doing absolutely nothing.

But can I not, if I choose, stay in my pajamas and watch 2 chick flicks in a row if I desire?

Yes. I can. I have that choice. Is the the wrong choice? That I cannot say, but I do know that I have the choice. It is my decision, and I need to be okay with it, whichever way I choose.

Moving on from that... Mom and R (mostly R, I think) have decided to give J the counseling she desires, once they found out that on our insurance it's only a $20 copay each session. She and I had a talk on the way home from church last week, and she broached the topic.

"I think I need therapy."

"What makes you say that?"

"I'm really depressed."

Ah. I get that. I shared with her what I've learned, how it's helped... and how I used to (and still do) self-medicate with music, relationships. She was like, "I do that too! I listen to music to make myself feel better, to forget everything." Huh. We're more alike than I thought. Which is odd, considering that we haven't lived together much in our lives. Once Mom finally got custody of the two little ones back, I was already in high school, and a couple of years later I went away to academy. Then they moved to the midwest, and we've seen each other, like, once a year for the past four years.

Anyway, I told J that I'd champion the cause for her, and I shared our conversation with R two days later. I could tell that he really wanted to help J get better, but he just hadn't realized that it was so affordable. (PTL that I started counseling and worked out the cost on our insurance already!) He's going to start looking around for someone good to take her to, and possibly even Jr. We all agree that K needs it too, but the problem is the desire to change, you know? K doesn't seem to feel her need, so she won't talk or work through things. J feels her need, and that makes all the difference.

I've discovered that I love perch. The fish. It's delicious. I'm finding that I really enjoy fish! Who knew?

The reason I felt the urge to blog was because I need to process through the future, and the coming changes.

I haven't had the guts yet to even touch my feelings about the S's, because they're so ambivalent. Maybe after I leave and it's "safe" lol. When I left for summer camp, there were no problems, but the intervening months have brought up conflicting feelings within me, and I desire to understand the roots of these feelings. I do know that I love them, and they're family. That's enough for now, I think.

Gramma agreed to allow me to bring Holly with me! She's not *thrilled* with the idea, but she'll accept it... I think more for the sake of her love for her granddaughter than anything else. Oh well... what are connections for, if not to milk for personal gain and satisfaction? Kidding...


The movies I've been watching lately and the books I've read have gotten me to thinking... what's my focus in life, what's my purpose? What am I aiming for? And what are my "side focuses"?

I kind of see it as having one large passion to pursue, and then having little passions (like hobbies) on the side. And this, along with personality, comprises who you are.

So who am I?

Being here, without a schedule, without expectations, has given me a glimpse into the near future, when I will be on my own, determining a vast portion of my daily life. And, truly, it's those little decisions that collide against each other, one by one, until you have this massive pileup that is "how the day went".

What food choices am I going to make? How often will I eat, what will I eat, and how much? (This affects my budget, too!) (Oooh! I can work my way through the soup cookbooks I got for Christmas!)

How will I get my exercise? I'd like to go for walks and go hiking in the nearby mountains, but I definitely don't want to give up racquetball. Ought I to join a gym? I'd love to join an exercise or dance class. I've been toying with the thought of taking up jogging... which I've previously hated, but who knows? I passionately love nutritional yeast flakes, onions, and avocados, three things I could not stand until just a few years ago.

I think I'll join the library. I need a fresh supply of books to occupy my mind.

I'll have sermons to prepare, undoubtably, and special musics to prepare for as well. I want to work with the youth again-- at least start our game nights back up, get some activities going. The family that plays together stays together :).

Of course I'll be taking piano lessons, which I'm SUPER stoked about. Music is definitely a "side passion".

I'll be working with the Healing Journey, so that means support groups at least once a week, plus additional extras, like fundraisers. I am going to ask S if I can job shadow her as a social worker, so I can see what it's really like. Mom and K brought up the idea of volunteering at the animal shelter to walk the dogs, and I'd LOVE that! I also want to get involved with the homeless shelters around Y. Homeless people frighten and intrigue me. I'm not homeless in the sense that they are, but I have been. If not the homeless shelters, then the battered women's shelter. It's a secret location, but unless they've moved in the last 6 years or so, I think I know where they are.

Above all, my decision to attend school in the fall must remain firm. It's partially because this is a good thing I know I'll benefit from, and be able to help other people with, but more than that-- it is my commitment to a decision, my undeterred pursuit of a goal that I have set.

I've been tossed about by circumstances, chance, and whimsy for so long... I want to push through obstacles and achieve something. Yes, my personality is partially fickle and capricious, and that's fine, but... at least this once... I want to persevere.

This is a season of change, I recognize that. And I'm discovering much about myself, about what I like and dislike, about my boundaries. That's a good thing. (Heh, realizing that D and I may be more compatible than I had initially thought, too... interestingly. But figuring out who I am apart from a desire to please anyone else is a much better way to do things!)

I'm realizing how paradoxical I am, too. I am fragile, to be sure, but I am also strong beyond belief. It takes a special strength to have lived the kind of life I have and come out the other side a survivor, rather than a victim. The very next breath I took, the very next heartbeat, made me a survivor. Victims die, survivors live. And even though I survived broken, I still survived. Nothing can change that.

Now, in this time of uncertainty and learning, I am still strong. I will not shatter, even as the waves of risk pound and rush through my very being.

I will pursue my goal, and I will enjoy it! I'm going have fun living, for crying out loud!

And if that means that some days I stay in my pajamas until 3 p.m., then that's okay.

By the way, you know what sucks?

Yeah, I still love D. For crying out loud. I wish I could just forget about him, but... he's got a tender place in my heart. Don't get me wrong-- it's not like I'm ready to move to Alaska and marry the guy. That would not be a wise decision. But I still find hope floating to the surface, and I think about him frequently enough for it to be noticeable to me.

I asked my mom how you know when you love someone, and she said that, basically, it's when you want what's best for the other person no matter what, even if it goes against what you want, or even hurts you. You care about what's best for them before you care about what's best for you. Upon digesting and pondering that... that's where I'm at with D. It's pretty simple, really.

Unrequited love bites. That's all.

Part of my pressing forward and pursuing my goal is forgetting about D, forgetting about Alaska (for now-- I still REALLY want to go there someday), and forgetting about romance and relationships.

Did I mention that I feel doomed-- er, that is called-- to singleness? LOL. Seriously, though, I've finally come to that place where I've made peace with the thought of being single for the rest of my life. Thanks, D. You helped with that. No, it's not a knee-jerk defense against being hurt again. It's a thought out conclusion, something to the tune of You know... being single really isn't bad. I mean, I enjoy it. I want to get married someday, sure, but if that doesn't happen... that's okay. Doesn't mean I won't be lonely at times, but it'd be okay. Yeah. I'd be alright. I can focus on learning about God's love instead of some guy's. ^ _ ^

I could be watching a movie with the fam, but I know I need to process, or else I will lose myself in the swirl of activity that tomorrow will bring, and whatever insights I might have gained will be lost.

How do you force yourself to process through feelings? It's kind of like... well... like... something that doesn't work very well, that's what it's like.

By the way, I wish that I played cello. And fiddle. And piano. Those are the next 3 instruments I'm going to tackle. I've already begun piano a little bit.

Okay, focusing back on topic now...

I was just so frustrated today, so upset... it seems like all my plans and ideas are crumbling, turning to ashes... like it's all for naught.

And here's the kicker-- this is the first time I've really researched and done my "homework" and laid out a plan and saved and... tried to do it the responsible, mature, motivated way. Most things, I just kind of go with whatever opportunity presents itself and assume that's God's will.

No, I take that back-- I did the research and homework and whatnot with summer camp, too. That didn't turn out so good.

And here I am again. Maybe I should just make opportunism my modus operandi?

Let's chart this out...

My first big decision for myself was to go door to door. Research? Nope. I didn't even know what it was about except that I was selling books. How hard can that be? Hah! But that was a step towards God.

Next: Attend academy. Research? Nope. I just visited it several times as a kid, and knew that I wanted to go there. And my family friend wanted me to go, too. Another step towards God.

After that, move in with boyfriend and get a job. Bad decision, I realized later. Hmm...

Then, leave boyfriend-now-fiance and go to SOULS. Research? Nope. J talked to me, I knew that I had to get out of the situation I was in, and this was a handy out. Yet another step towards God.

When I'm about to graduate SOULS (about a month left?) and no idea where I'm going next or what I'm doing, the Idaho guys came down to interview students. They interviewed me, and I got a job a few weeks after graduation, which led me to Idaho.

I did do some research that time, to see whether I wanted Spokane, or the little country churches. I looked at the cities' websites, and I chose the country churches.

Aaaaaand... I've been here two years now. I did major homework on which summer camps to apply to, took the first one that contacted me, and... what a summer that was. (Mer.)  So that decision was a mix of the two types of decision making, really.

Then, I left camp early and decided the night that I left that I would drive out to WI for my dad. It was a great decision. I have absolutely zero regrets, and I'm so glad I did it. Talk about impulsive ;)

And now... researching and contacting schools, figuring out where I'd like to go, which schools offer what I want, etc. etc, looking for places to stay, figuring out viable options, researching scholarships and grants, filling out my FAFSA forms, and... for what?!

I talked to the financial aid lady today (finally!). It's weird, because I seem to have a semi-difficult time getting ahold of the staff at this school, whereas the school in Colorado was always so prompt... I wish this school were like that. Anyway, I finally talked to her, and realized that she had no idea that I needed to work out financial details now, because I have no money and no place to stay when I get down there. She said she'd do some figuring and call me back.

I about fell apart on the way home. It seems like everything I've tried is just not working out. The $10,000 scholarship that I thought I was guaranteed fell through. The churches I've contacted asking for a place to stay haven't contacted me back, except one. (Seriously? At least call me back to tell me, "No"!) The job I applied for hasn't contacted me, either.

As I was driving home, crying and praying, it occurred to me that perhaps God is setting the stage for something awesome. I'd really like to believe that.

I'm scared. Terrified, really. I'm scared that I'm going to go down there, only to wind up homeless. I'm afraid that I'll find out that I can't get enough money and I'll have to leave to do...???

I'm afraid that it's not going to work out. I'm afraid that I'm going to be dependent on others forever. I'm afraid of getting stranded on my way down because I only have a few hundred dollars. I'm afraid of failing. I'm afraid that I can't actually make it on my own.

I'm afraid that I'm going to be living in poverty forever, that I'll never make it out. I'm afraid that I will have to sacrifice my dreams on the altar of necessity.

I'm afraid that life will become nothing more than a vicious battle to simply survive.

I'm afraid because I have no backup plan. Everything I have is staked on this. And it seems to be falling apart.

I just feel so helpless!! Why can't I be self sufficient and independent, dammit?! And why do I still say bad words?! lol

I want so much to be consistent, stable... mature. Responsible. And yet I find myself constantly swinging from idea to idea, from thing to thing... It's like I have this conception of my ideal self, yet I cannot achieve it. And that frustrates me. And angers me. And scares me.

I don't want to be trapped in mediocrity.

I was sharing all this with Mom today, interspersed with tears, of course. How scared I am, and how frustrated, and how I have nowhere to go and I don't know what to do and why is this not working the way it's supposed to?!

She pointed out to me that I do have somewhere to go. Gma and Gpa would love to have me, if I wanted to wait a few months, or if I can't get this financial stuff straightened out in time.

I told her that the S's want me to leave. The sentiment in the statement is not quite the same as the sentiment they express, but it's pretty clear that it's time for me to move on. And January is the time they ("they" meaning C, lol) have set for me to move on.

And you know... E would love to have me work with her.

I could wait. I don't have to rush off. Going back to Y is a viable option. I don't know if the school has a spring starting date, or if I'd have to wait until fall, but... I could.

Who says I have to start in January? Nobody. And who would rag on me if I didn't? Probably just myself. Because once I say I'm going to do something, I want to do it! Right away! lol

And if I did go back... I could get a job, maybe. Like Mom said, there's always Denny's. Yuck. Actually, maybe not...

But seriously. Would I be a failure if I did not start school in January? Because that's what that voice in my head tells me... "You said you were going to start in January. So either do it, or scrap the whole idea. None of this 'wait till later' stuff. That's failure talk. Either you do it or you don't."

Who to believe? Mom sounded awfully believable while I was talking to her.

I need to pray about this some more.... and make phone calls.

I'll take L's advice and start pushing on some doors ;) As they say, the squeaky wheel gets the grease.

But, oh... I just don't know.

Sure, it's an adventure. That's one of the only things that keeps my spirits up.

I've come to the point where I'm suspicious of good things. Not all good things, mind you, but things that just seem to be so good and to fit so right... that's what I thought about the summer camp I worked at. It's perfect! I'm so excited! But people can portray reality any which way they want when you don't know them, and it can wind up being a foretaste of hell.

However, that foretaste imbued me with a strength that I would not have gotten any other way. It is from that experience that I realize, I am strong. I can survive. Sure, I fell apart somewhat during the summer (the S's and D know the full extent of that), but I learned. I've grown.

But, man, I sure don't want to make that mistake again!! I'd rather things go well, quite frankly. I can learn without agony of soul and body, thankyouverymuch.

So, I'm researching massage colleges, and there's one that's captivated my interest. It seems so good, just what I want, in a state that I'd like to live in, not saturated with New Age beliefs, and the lady I talked to was so very nice to me. We clicked well.

I'm just afraid to take that leap, to move forward into the unknown, and... totally hate my decision. I'm afraid it will collapse around my ears.

I suppose the question is, does God dictate our moves to us? How do I know God's leading me? Eh? Because, as usual, I'm afraid to make the wrong choice. :)

And, on a totally different and unrelated note-- I'm SO HUNGRY! 7 days of fasting. I can't wait to start eating again. Tomorrow! Tomorrow! It has never been such a sweet word.

Oh, yeah, and one more thing... Why not do the support group? My counselor challenged me on that. If I have the capabilities to help someone while I'm still here, why not? Why put it off? Why wait? I... don't have a good reason, really, just thinking that it might not be the best to start something I can't finish. After all, I'd planned on facilitating it for a whole year. Now, it looks as though I'll be leaving March/April. That's only 5 or 6 months. But those months could mean the world to someone. I'm gonna do it.

A lot to process lately.

What do you do if you were sure you were where God wants you, only to find that things are changing, and the very reasons you thought God wanted you in a certain place are no longer good reasons?

Yeah.

I'll be leaving the S's soon. Soon meaning... well, I don't know when. But I don't think it's wise to start the support group at this time.  However, I did get good practice setting it all up, and who's to say I can't take it with me where I go next? No one. I'm going to do it, still, even if it's not in Idaho.

I called D and told him that I've decided to go to massage school, but I don't know where yet. Does he want me to come up there where he is? There are a couple massage schools there. He said he'd call me back. It's been almost a week now, haven't heard from him, though he said he'd call back in a day or two.

I realized today why that bugs me so badly when he does that--my mom did the same thing all the time when I was a kid. "I'll be there in an hour" meant "see you in three to four hours". Drove me crazy. She's better now, but I still hate it when people do that. It's like they don't care enough to stick to their word.

Anyway... I'm researching schools and filling out my FAFSA and all that fun stuff. It seems to me that C is thinking that I need to be moving out soon... she says not before January, and I agree, but I had initially been thinking summer or fall. She's thinking more like spring, early or late. I'd like to stick around for my birthday, at least. It's not just the S's I'm thinking of, though I live with them-- I have friends here, and engagements.

Just... a lot to think through. I've kind of become numb, of sorts. Juneaux is an indoor-outdoor cat now, because I simply don't care enough to worry about him like I used to. I love him, but... he's just a cat. He's not my lifeline. If he gets hurt, or killed, I'll be devastated, but I'll survive. And he's so much happier being outside... it's not worth the effort to keep him in all the time anymore.

I feel the same about D. I can take him or leave him at this point. It's like, look dude-- if you want to try this thing out, then let's do it. If not, then great, I'm moving on and moving away. Make up your mind. Do you want me or not?

Maybe I'm coasting. Maybe I'm in survival/defense mode. I don't care. All I know is it's working.

(Oh, yeah, and I've been fasting/cleansing for four whole days now. That is a record for me- I hate going without food!!)

Have you ever been rather certain of something, and yet you do not want to advertise the certain-ness for fear that you are not, in fact, totally certain, and that you will end up looking like a fool?

Yup, I'm in that quandary. I'm praying and praying that God will guide me, show me whether this certainty stems from him or from my own misguided ideas, and, well, I know I'll be making up my mind soon one way or another. I know myself- I'm not one for protracted examination of... anything. I make decisions fast. (Relatively.) My dad, now, he'll research something into the ground before he makes a decision. I'm better about researching my decisions now than I ever was before. But I'm still a rather rapid decision maker. I'll agonize over my choices intensely, but when I come to a decision, I want to get on with things. NOW! lol

Anyway, that's just a private storm brewing in the recesses of my mind. I'll probably have made my mental choice one way or another (for now) by this time next week.

Ahhh... don't you wish you knew what I was alluding to? :)

J's right. I'm impulsive. I swing from one thing to another quickly. Is that a bad thing?

I just feel something in the air... change. It's coming. Something is going to change, in a big way, and soon. I don't know what it is, but I feel it coming. God's preparing me for... something.

In a way, I'm trepidatious, like, "Does this mean that I'm not going to be able to do my support group after all? After setting everything up? Or does it mean that I'm only going to be able to do it for a few months? Isn't that technically failure?"

Because here I've thought that the very fact that God's opening doors for this group is proof that I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be, doing what I'm supposed to do... and I am. For now. But that may change soon. I think. Maybe. Heh. (That's just my life!)

I don't want to go anywhere until winter's over. I don't like traveling in winter.

Do I think I'll be leaving S's? Maybe. I love this family, and dearly. Desperately. Obsessively. Compulsively. (Ok, ok, just kidding.) But it's very difficult for me to balance "support" with "salvation" right now... and honestly, I'm tired of being dependent. My dad pays for my medical bills (now that's salvation!), my cell phone (I'm on a family plan ^_^), my car insurance, and until this year, my car tags. The S's provide me with food. I pay for my gas, car maintenance, clothes, other basic necessities of life, gifts, and my Bible college bill. Not bad, I guess (especially with no income!), but I am itching to be totally independent. Not that I wouldn't mind a roommate or something- I don't like staying places totally by myself. But I want to be an adult, for crying out loud! I want to strike out on my own and make an impact on the world.

On the flip side... leaving home is scary, and this place is warm, snug, and secure. Why should I leave the womb? (Funnily enough, I actually refused to leave the literal womb.) I long for change and adventure, yet I am loathe to leave the security of the known and predictable. What a trap to be caught in. Which impulse do I obey?

Interestingly, the Holy Spirit now resides within me. I don't know where he was before, or if he was in me/around me and I just didn't know it, but last night I asked God to send the Holy Spirit into my heart and give me what I need (because I'm not always accurate on what I think I need), and then I found Luke 11:13, which says, "If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him?"

Huh. Well, then, I guess that means that God send the Spirit when I asked him to. That means... that now I don't have to be confused about whether or not he dwells within me as 1 Corinthians 3:16 claims he does... because God said he'd do it, so he did. Cool!


I know that the Bible says that when we are followers of God, when we have faith in Jesus' name for our salvation, that the Holy Spirit will come and dwell in us. It always confused me, though, because I thought, That certainly can't be true! Look at all the junk inside me! There's no WAY God would want to hang out in there... But I guess he does. And I think it's only by hanging out among the junk that he can clear it out. He had to come down and live with us people in order to save us... I think it's the same principle, as near as I can tell. Then again, I'm no authority.

Buuuuuuut... now that the Holy Spirit is for sure for sure living inside me, I know that he'll for sure for sure guide me. God's guidance is not some "somewhere out there" thing that I have to try to decipher. God will guide me, personally, now. How? Not sure, precisely, about all the specifics... Definitely through the Bible, though. I mean, if someone were to come to me for advice, and I'd already written a book, I'd probably give them the book to read if it would answer their questions. It'd be tons easier.

But I know that God guides people in other ways than just Biblical exposition. I was reading Acts today, and the disciples were so amazingly attuned to God's voice! Yes, he sent angels and gave them visions, but those were the exception, not the rule. Most of the time, they went places to preach until, well, until they were done. Then they moved on. It's like they just knew. God told them, I think. They didn't stress about having time quotas to spend in each place, or how many converts they were supposed to get... It was powerful stuff, what they were doing. What's really cool is that they were just going and God would give them an opportunity to speak, and they would (and the Holy Spirit would fall on them and give them the words and the power), and people's consciences would be pricked. Usually, that meant people would profess faith in Jesus, but sometimes that meant the apostles would be stoned or thrown in prison or beaten, etc. And that was alright, because it was God's plan, not theirs, and they knew that whatever was befalling them, God had it under control and it would all work out okay.

WOW.

If I could live my life like that, well... there's no telling what could happen. Talk about adventure ;)

I could live with that kind of transmogrification. Imagine, frightened little me, living a life of bold faith.

Oh, I want it. I want it real bad.

But am I willing to bear the cross that comes before the crown?

Eh... that's one item of junk that the HS is gonna have to clear out... all that trepidation I've got plastered on the walls.