So today has been one of those good, lazy days. The gang came over for DnD last night, but I was far too tired to make it through more than the first few steps of the encounter. M put me into "Hammer Space", which is basically the "cartoon pocket" of the universe. So I was there, without actually being there, and the real me took off to go take a nap. M gave me one of her muscle relaxers from the accident, since I was hurting and stuff, and it really helped me to get to sleep. I've been having trouble sleeping the past few days from pain, so it was a relief to sack out for a while, and laying down no less! The past few nights have been spent propped up on the couch so I could drift off, since it hurt too much to breathe when I was lying down.

So I slept for several hours, woke up to eat something, went back to bed for several hours, woke up for a little while and had breakfast, then went down for a few more hours. I was awake for a few hours when I went to go take another nap with C, who hadn't climbed out of bed yet. I didn't actually get to sleep, but we did stay in bed for a while, which was nice. (My mood is greatly improved from yesterday, as C has proved that he is still a willing participant of marital privileges. It's been a great relief, I'll tell you that for sure.) Also, a big plus to sleeping in bed is that when C came to bed we were able to cuddle up together. I haven't gotten to sleep-cuddle with C in probably just as long as we've been abstinent, since I've either been in too much pain to touch, not in bed at the same time as him, or sleeping out on the couch. It is such a simple yet profound joy to briefly stir to consciousness and feel your love's warm arm draped over you and his feet entangled with yours. Words cannot describe it, but it's one of my favorite parts of being with C. Is that weird? I don't care. It makes me happy.

When we clambered out of bed we both hopped into the shower and then watched an episode of the show we're watching together. He wandered off to go play a game on the comp and I've been watching Netflix. I'm tired, though, and my tummy's a little upset, so I think I might brew up a mug of tea then crash for however long I end up sleeping. The "nice" thing about being disabled is that I don't have anything pressing to be up for in the morning and I can sleep whenever I'd like. (Well, whenever I can, as the case may be…) There's always a positive, right?

M brought a book over for me to read, and as weird as it is I find myself strangely fascinated with it and I've been reading it off and on throughout the past few days. It's set back in the ancient days of Egypt, but it totally references contemporary Biblical events of the time, which is cool.

I'm totally yawning my head off. Time to hit the hay for a while. I like lazy days… when they're spent with company. It gets kind of boring when you're all by yourself, day after day. I would know.

I saw the neurologist today. While he is more skeptical of fibromyalgia than I'd like (it has no objective test to prove its presence in a person), he seems to know what he's talking about when it comes to other things. In addition, he's friendly and laughs easily, so I will stick with him, at least for now.

When I told him about the twitchies, he immediately began asking questions. He feels that many of the things wrong with me are puzzle pieces, including the fibromyalgia. Indeed, there are several diseases that fibromyalgia mimics the symptoms of, so in reality I could not have fibro at all, but some other disease. Isn't that interesting? So I'll be getting an MRI, an EEG, and some electrical testing in the next few weeks, to see what's going on with my nervous system. Honestly, there are several suspects that we are trying to see if we can rule out, and MS is one of them. Many of the symptoms of MS are the same as fibro, and the twitchies are definitely of a neurological origin, so it's a suspect until we rule it out. Lupus is another. Basically, we're looking at autoimmune causes it seems, although he agrees with me that the big accident back in '06 may actually have something to do with my nervous system dysfunctions.

Other than that, life's been pretty calm. I've had a few more instances of grieving D, but I know it's normal and healthy, so I just go with it and cry it out. C will often hold me while I cry, which is nice.

Have I mentioned lately that I love being married? The more time passes, the more love I am filled with for C, and the more gratitude wells up and overwhelms me. I am so grateful that I chose this path for my life. I am filled with more satisfaction and happiness than I have ever had in my life. My time in Id was very fulfilling, and comes a close second, but the work I was doing to heal from my past adds an element of discord and instability that is lacking in my current life. I have stability, for the first time in my life. Real, honest to goodness stability. I have C to thank for that. He is a Mr. Steady, that's for sure, and he works so hard to make sure that all of our ends meet. I know I can trust him and rely on him to care for me... and our children, eventually. I love that man, more than I thought I was capable of, and it's clear that he loves me as well. Life is good. Loving and being loved, despite whatever financial difficulties we are having... everything else pales in comparison. I am basking in the glow of knowing that I have my own little home, a place that will always be here for me. That doesn't mean that I don't still get restless and have the urge to go on an adventure, but the adventure is sweeter knowing that home is waiting. A real home. My home.

I see the pain specialist tomorrow, and I hope that he can help me. The patch took a few days for the medicine to build up in my system, and it's helping a little, but I'm still quite reliant on painkillers. I feel less shame about using them now, less guilt for taking them. I don't really understand why I feel as though I need to prove myself by enduring large amounts of pain, but I'm realizing that it's pretty silly. If I'm hurting and have the means to lower that pain, why shouldn't I? I would want anyone else to do the same. I do tend to treat myself much more harshly (and abusively) than I would ever treat someone else, but I'm working on overcoming that. I'm still learning how to be kind to myself. It's a long process, but one that is proving worthwhile. I think it's contributing to my satisfaction and joy in life. C is wonderful, but he is not and cannot be my everything. It would be unhealthy for me to expect that. I need to find my own joy and satisfaction outside of him and our relationship, although he does bring me much joy and satisfaction. That's why I'm grateful that I can still work some. It does a lot for my spirit to know that not only am I still somewhat self-reliant, but I am helping others. It's been hard, this loss of independence and control over my life... but I still have some measures of self-reliance left, and I cling to them.

Now I'm just rambling. I ran out of the effective painkillers my rheumatologist gave me to tide me over, so I had to take a large dose of two other painkillers that I still have. It worked, and I feel very relaxed and happy, which I love. I can see how easy it would be to become a prescription pain killer abuser, but that is something that I do not want. That contributes partially to my guilt over pain meds. I'm afraid that by enjoying the relief from pain and the mild euphoria that the drugs sometimes bring, I am choosing the path of the drug abuser. I know that's not the case, but enjoying the effects of the pain killers frightens me in a way. The weather has been forcing me to take more pain killers than I would normally (the barometric pressure is all over the place!), but I have other, more active ways to relieve the pain as well. C claims that I'm going to kill him with wanting sex so much, but it's just a natural part of who I am. I think he secretly enjoys the fact that I want him so much. In fact, I know he does. He pretends to hold out because he likes to watch me try to convince him to "give me a dose of painkillers". I found that little tidbit out last night, and I pretended offense, but I find it just as fun as he does to try to convince him, so the game will go on.

Summary: getting the medical help I need, despite our financial hardships. (Payment plans FTW!) Life is good. I love my husband, and I love being married. Took some meds, I feel good, and I borrowed some books from the library so I've been reading like crazy lately. I've been more fatigued than usual, so it's a good past-time.

I've been feeling better since Wednesday. Stronger. More able to handle the pain, and even to push myself and feel my muscles burn with exertion. It's been a while since I dared to do anything like that. It would have sent me straight to bed in spasms of muscle agony and the groaning torment of severe "fibro flu". Who wants that? Not I.

I did a lot (to me) of packing and moving this weekend. I picked up boxes and carried them out to my car and into the new house. I scrubbed shelves and mopped floors. I wiped down bathtubs and swept the whole house. I hung shower curtains and ate sushi cross-legged on the bare tile floor.

It was a good weekend. I enjoyed feeling stronger than I have in... who can remember how long? When your days are filled with pain and sickness, they tend to blur together. You forget the last time you had a good day, unless it was extraordinarily memorable. I remember my wedding day, but that was not a good day, health wise. It was actually a very bad day, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.

So that makes me think that the acupuncture is actually, finally helping. I feel like I've been gradually slipping down a flight of stairs, and each step is a lower level of functioning than the last. But, at last, I feel like I've taken a step back up that flight of stairs.

Granted, the fatigue was a bit of a bitch today, but I fought it. I did good, but today, combined with the weekend, may have been a bit much. I think I got over-excited about feeling better, 'cause now I'm feeling pretty gross. Not much in the way of pain today, actually. Surprisingly. I don't really know what to do with myself when I'm not actively in the throes of affliction, so I was at a bit of a loss...

While I was waiting in the bank to change my name last week, I picked up a National Parks magazine and read an interesting article about a woman and her husband who started as seasonal Park workers in Glacier. The article was about how they worked Denali for a season or two as seasonal employees, but then they chose to stay there year-round, and how that experience has changed them for the better. It was a good, interesting story. I'd like to see if I can find it online somewhere... Oh! Found it!

Here. Read this. It's great.

Anyway, it really struck a chord with me, as ever since I started really talking to D I've had this intense desire to visit Alaska... maybe even stay for a while. I can't now, 'cause of the dumb fibro (cold affects me very, very negatively in that regard)... and that is what got me thinking, and grieving.

I'm grieving for the Life That Could Have Been.

If I were not sick, what kind of life would I have led?

Realistically, my health has been compromised almost my whole life. I've had fibromyalgia since I was 9, at least, and the fatigue and other things that accompany it really impacted me growing up. I never had much physical stamina, not to mention the exercise induced asthma that I inherited from my biological dad. (Thanks, T!) Maybe I had the thyroid and adrenal issues way back then, too. I don't know. All I know is that the older I've gotten, the sicker I've gotten.

But if I were healthy, what kind of life would I have chosen?

I used to love to roam the desert and go hiking as a kid. On Sabbath afternoons I'd be over at the D's house, and after lunch we'd decide to go for a hike in the desert. I'd borrow some of their son's clothes and shoes, and we'd be off on an adventure. J and I would leave the adults behind and skip up the mountains like little goats-- he was always ahead of me, because of the stamina/asthma thing, but I trucked right along. When I lived in ID, I had a fierce longing to work for the Forest Service, and I was SO jealous when K got the opportunity.

If I had not been sick, that is the kind of life I would have chosen for myself. I would have joined up with the Forest Service, or the National Parks, clearing trails or patrolling the backwoods or whatever was necessary. I'd cross-country ski through the woods in winter, and I'd hike the Grand Canyon from rim to rim. I'd camp out at Denali, and I'd hike McKinley at least once. I'd sleep under the stars at the Arches, and I'd walk the Appalachian Trail, a pack on my back and a dog at my side.

Would I have a husband by my side as well? I don't know. I do know that, were I living the life that my soul dreams of, I would have married someone very different from C, someone more like B or D, or even W, my sister's fiance.

But the thing is... I was born into this broken body, a body that limits me in so many ways... and I will never get to live that life. I had a taste of it, a beautiful, refreshing taste when I lived up north. But now... now I celebrate walking around the block. My body does not do the things that I desperately, sincerely wish that it would and could. And I must accept the fact that it may never do those things. Truly, it will never do all the things that I wish it could, and that's okay. I know that I am more "frail" than some of the rugged individuals out there (I'm looking at you, Miss R, and your man J!), but I still want to work up to doing what I can.

I want to go backpacking again. I want to go camping again.

I want to do those things without fear of falling wretchedly, desperately ill as a consequence of enjoying myself, of pushing myself. It's ironic that physical exertion can make me so, so sick... because getting exercise is supposed to be so super healthy for you! I feel like a leper sometimes. A misunderstood leper.

And so I grieve. I grieve the Life That Could Have Been, the life that would have been, had I been born into a healthy body.

Anyone reading this with a body that follows your commands and obeys your wishes without committing mutiny... I hope that you walk away from this grateful. I mean it. How often do we think about the little things that our body does for us, without even thinking? Washing the dishes. Bending down to pick toys up off of the floor. Rising from a seated position. Chewing food.

These are things that, some days, are difficult or nigh impossible for me to do. Some of my chronic illness friends find these things absolutely impossible on a regular basis. I'm better off than a lot of them, and it's humbling.

If you have health, don't take it for granted. I certainly don't, not anymore. And yes, while I am grieving, I am also celebrating. I am celebrating the health that I have, whether I feel awful or not. I have safe food to eat, I have medicines to take, I have health treatments that are paid for and not putting me in the poor house or driving me to extreme measures to pay for. I have a supportive network of friends and family that both believe me and believe in me. I have a wonderful husband who takes care of me in a zillion little ways, and who wanted to marry me despite the trip down the stairs I've been taking. He has wanted to marry me for years and years... and his love did not dim a whit while I was off doing what I thought was best for both of us. How many people can say that?

Sure, it's rocky. Sure, I'm in pain. Sure, I'm fighting hard against a body that is literally trying to attack and kill itself. But man... I have so much to celebrate, so much to be incredibly grateful for. And it's those tough things that make me appreciate the nice things so. much. For example... I have a new house! And I was able to clean it!! All by myself!!!

I love my life. So while I do grieve the Life That Could Have Been, I don't know if I could or would ever give up the Life That Is. It's just too rich and too wonderful, and I love all the pieces of it... even the hard ones.

We got our marriage license today. Now it's starting to feel official! It's hanging on our fridge, just waiting for the big day to come...

I tell you, it still bemuses me a bit how this man can look at me and see past the pain, past the limitations, past the coping mechanisms I've shrouded myself with, right to the core of me... and want to link himself to that for the rest of his life.

We're only nine days out, and I've got cold feet.

Not about marrying C, not at all! It's the thought of "forever" that freaks me out. The thought of, "I can never ever just pick up and leave again."

But then again, there are other, bigger thoughts that crowd those out... like the thought of, "This man has supported me through my lowest lows, has seen me sobbing and disheveled, has borne the brunt of my impatience and insecurity... everything. He's taken everything I and my crazy life/past have thrown at him, and he's still just here. Patient. Unendingly loving and wise. Not going anywhere."

And that's enough to quell the panic that rises inside me. Sure, maybe I'm voluntarily turning myself into a caged bird, but it's that very cage that will hold me up when I fall off my perch, dizzy with fatigue and shaking with pain.

You know, an interesting though struck me the other day... See, I've only just started to identify with the "chronic illness community" because of the fibro, and the disruption in my life makes me crave community and support. I realized, though, that I've had chronic illnesses for quite some time. I mean, the food allergies? Totally a chronic illness. The hypothyroid? Yep. Adrenal insufficiency? For sure.

They limited me in many ways, especially the food allergies. The fatigue was a big problem I had to contend with, but it was nothing like it is now. I just never considered myself as much less than normal, because I could still keep up with the big dogs if I pushed myself enough.

There's really no point to that observation, it was just a small "aha!" moment of mine. No moral to the story, sorry.

Mom and I talked for a good 3 hours the other day! It was really nice to connect with her again... she and I have both been busy, kind of overwhelmed with the stuff going on in our lives... She's got a ton going on, and I believe she's struggling with depression still, and definitely with fatigue. She has discovered that working out consistently and changing some of her eating habits is helping her with that, though, and I'm very glad to hear it.

I told her what happened with BJ, just an overview, but I did mention what was brought up about my having fibro because I left God, allegedly. She thought that I said "because I love God", and she was like, "Oh, I totally agree!"

I was shocked, because I thought she was agreeing with what I said, not what she heard. Rather than just shrug it off, I addressed it, saying, "Ouch, Mom! That is a hurtful statement. Do you really feel that way?"

Of course, she was confused, which led to clarification of what I had actually said, which led to her vehemently opposing the idea. She believes that, basically, I'm being attacked by Satan because I'm a threat. From there, she went on to give me this really, really affirming talk about how she's always felt that I am meant for something great, like I have a big destiny, that I was meant to live a big life.

She felt for a while that, in marrying and settling down with C here in this little town, I was basically settling. Now, though, she really feels that it is the best thing I could be doing, because it gives me the stability and support that I need to really flourish and blossom. She said that no matter where I go or what I do, I'm going to influence people and make an impact, and live a big life. She also pointed out that the fibro has only slowed me down, not stopped me. She said that nothing has or can stop me. Basically, she told me that I was an amazing person who has this incredible power to inspire others, no matter where I am or what I'm doing, and that the bad things that have happened to me really only serve to inspire others more, because they just can't get me down! It was, as I said before, very affirming. Very filling. Incredibly encouraging. I was happy. (Still am!)

When I told C about what Mom said, especially the part where she said that marrying C is the best thing I could be doing with my life, I could tell that it really pleased and affirmed him, too.

I shared with Mom how my perspective on my chronic illnesses is changing. It's much like how my perspective on being abused has shifted over the years. At first, when I was first coming to terms with it, it was devastating. I still have a tough time with it on some days, because the state of illness that I'm in has fundamentally altered my life in many ways. I didn't exactly want my life fundamentally altered, thankyouverymuch! As I've come to grips with it, though, I am starting to view it more through the lens of optimism.

Sure, it's been tough. Very tough. This last flare did not make me happy at all. Living life in constant, intense pain is wearing. I don't like it, and I wouldn't choose it. The sheer exhaustion that comes after doing basic daily tasks that I used to take for granted (even with the fatigue that I experienced previously limiting some activities) is incredibly frustrating, and I would only wish it upon my enemies.

That being said, I have gained so, so much from this experience. I have connected with communities of chronic illness survivors and made some really incredible new friends. We are developing a rich connection that wouldn't be possible if we didn't share something so intimate and difficult as chronic pain and frustrating health conditions. It's like the ladies in my support group-- we are all there for similar reasons, and we can bond because of our pain and our shared will to survive and conquer.

My relationship with C has been strengthened, I think. I know now beyond a shadow of a doubt that he will never waver in his commitment to me. His character and loyalty have been very much tested, and he has proven to be solid gold.

My desire to live an intentional, authentic life has been honed and sharpened. I only have so much energy, so where am I going to put it? What is important to me? My priorities have been refined.

This woman, Stacey Kramer, sums it up beautifully. She survived something incredible (no spoilers here! ^_^), but she can now see it as a gift. That's kind of how I see this debilitating, chronic illness now. It's a gift. A terrible, wonderful gift.

I may have days when I totally don't feel that way, and that's okay, because in the big, grand scheme of things, I really am grateful for the life that I'm living. I am blessed. I love my life, and I am very content. I can say in all honesty that I am the happiest, healthiest (yes, really!) and most authentic that I've ever been.

I talked about that today when I spoke at a domestic violence prevention training. I've survived a ton of crap, but I'm such an awesome person now... how can I not see it as a terrible, wonderful gift? Would I rather not have had to go through it? Hell yes! I would rather NOT have been abused, molested, neglected, and rejected. I would really prefer to live my life without pain hounding my every footstep. (Or foot-shuffle, as the case may be...)

But would I be the person that I am right now if I skipped all those things? Probably not. And I love who I am. I love the life I'm living.

So I choose acceptance. And I choose gratitude. And I choose to accept the gift and make the most of it, in all its terrible, wonderful complexity.

You know what? Today was a good day, and I'm proud of myself.

I know, I know... what a shift from my sobfest of last night, right? Yes, well... here's the thing about emotions: they're subject to change. That's why you can't base your decisions solely on them. Sure, they have their place as informants, but man, they can be fickle little things!

I did good today, y'all. And I'm not just talking about productivity levels, but more about being aware of myself and what I have to give... counting my spoons, if you will. I'm very tired, but I didn't overdo it. I almost did a few times, but caught myself before I went too far.

Productivity-wise, what did I do today? I'm so glad you asked! I'll tell you :)

I was supposed to go into work today, but a family emergency of some sort canceled that, so I got to sleep in. I was grateful, because I woke up at 8:30 from pain. I took a pain killer and a hot shower (Yaaaaay! I showered today! lol) and was able to drift back off to sleep around 10:30. It was nice, because I got to cuddle with C all snuggly and warm.

When he got up at 1 to get ready for work, I decided to wake up as well. I stayed in bed for a few hours doing internet stuffs, then arose and got ready for the day. I made the bed, opened the doors for some fresh air, and proceeded to clean. I knew that I would have to be careful not to push myself too far, as cleaning is one of the things that I get carried away with super easy. I tidied up the bathroom and fixed the shower curtain that I'd been wanting to work on for a couple of weeks. Then I got my roomie to do his dishes, did my dishes, wiped down all the kitchen counters and swept the floor. It was at this point that I realized that I would need to stop soon, but I was able to vacuum the main living area before I had to go lie down. (I was literally telling myself, "Go lay down, you need to lay down... now. Right now. Go lay down.") (Also, lie vs. lay. I never can remember which is which. I should google that.)

After a short rest, I took S to his friends' house, dropped off my laundry, hit up Wal-Mart for a couple of groceries and the final part of K's gift, then I jetted over to the mall to catch a free, open-air jazz concert with my friend C. The concert was really cool, and I'm glad I went. It got chilly after the sun set so my joints started complaining, and I was getting really hungry, so I ended up leaving before it was done, but it was great nonetheless. I had planned on visiting another store while I was there at the mall, but I knew that to do that would definitely be pushing myself past my limits.

I went home, ate, and rested up before I went back for the next step of my laundry. Then I pretty much just hung out on the internet until C got home.

Also, today I talked to my mom! I'd been feeling as though she'd been distancing herself from me lately, and it hurt... especially because she's one of my best friends, and I'm going through a lot right now, and I really need her support and advice. And with the wedding looming? I'm nervous and scared and slightly overwhelmed, and I really need her right now. To put it simply, I still need a mommy! So I wrote her a message about this, and we talked about it. Sure enough, she's dealing with a lot, as I suspected, and is very overwhelmed herself right now. (She assures me that my needing her is not a burden, which I'm grateful for.) She was kind of backing off, not wanting to take up my spoons and wear me out, but I insisted that I'd gladly use a spoon or five or fifteen to talk to her. Long story short? We're good, and it was not a big deal, really. Just a small bump in the road that was easily corrected with some clear, honest communication :)

Did I mention that I treated myself today? That blog post I read yesterday (the one that kicked my butt, remember?) had some really good advice in it. One of those pieces of advice was to reward yourself for your accomplishments. Not only was today a good day, but I've been trying really hard lately to be good to myself and keep balanced, and I'm proud of myself for that, too. So while I was at Wal-Mart, I was rooting around in the $5 movie bin and found a Planet Earth dvd and a Blue Planet dvd... and I got them! Not only is it a reward/treat for myself because I've been doing so well, but it's an investment for those future days when I'm not feeling well and end up on the couch watching movies. So it's a reward and an investment! Am I good, or am I good? :)

I'm tired. Very, very tired. I didn't overdo it, but I am ready for bed... especially because the gal I'm tutoring is coming over at 10 am tomorrow. Also, hopefully C and I will be able to hit up the antique car show tomorrow! If he can't make it, I'll go on Saturday on my own. It's a kind of tradition for me to go every year, and I don't want to miss it, even if I have to go by myself. I'd much rather prefer to go with C, of course...

And, with that, I'm off!

I went to the park in my heart today.

See, I was at work, and I glanced out the window and realized that the weather was getting continuously more cloudy and slightly chilly with a light breeze, yet with sunlight still pouring through and I thought, "Man, I'd really like to go to the park right now..."

And I had this super-vivid vision of myself at the park I wanted to go to, and what I would be doing there, right down to the frosty can of green tea in my hand. I thought about it, mulled the concept over in my head, and then decided that you know what? I need to be kind to myself. If my inner child wants to go to the park, then to the park we will go!

However, when I got off of work and drove back home (work is 1/2 an hour outside of town, unfortunately), it was time to make some food. I knew that by the time I finished making and eating food, there wouldn't be much daylight left, and it would be getting chillier. I didn't want to drive all the way across town and use precious gas for just a few minutes of calm reflection before I had to pile back into my car and go home. Also, after looking inward and taking stock, I realized that I didn't really have the energy required for a trip to the park anymore.

See, I love my job, and I love to work. It energizes me, fills me with enthusiasm and satisfaction, and gets me all happy. I feel like I can take on the world after a good, productive session at work. (I would say "work day", but since I only work a few hours at a time on any given day, well...) So while I was at work, going to the park was totally possible! On the drive home, however, the enthusiasm began to wane, being replaced by, well, realism.

So I thought about it and considered what to do. What, in this situation, would being kind to myself look like? I did want to go to the park, but I also want to take good care of myself...

In the end, I went to the park in my heart. I thought back to the vivid visualization I had of myself in the park, and sat there for a while, enjoying myself. Then, I went home and made some good food and rested. It was quite enjoyable, actually. I feel like I got the best of both worlds :)

Well, life's gone and taken a turn for the better again. I love how it does that. I think the meds have something to do with it...

My goal with these painkillers is not to be pain-free, but rather to keep the pain at a level 4.5 or below so that I can function. I have to keep reminding myself of that, because it's so easy to slip into "let's take another" mode. I can't afford to do that, though, because I really really really don't want to become tolerant to the only thing that helps me out at all.

I've been eating quesadillas pretty frequently lately... ("Pretty frequently" being relative to how many quesadillas I've had in recent years, which is a big fat none!) I think it's 'cause my body is craving protein, but it just can't digest it. Beans, nuts, meat... nothing. It just sits there. Blech. But even though cheese does slow down my digestive processes some, it actually digests, so I figure it can't be all that bad for me right now. Quesadillas and applesauce-- one of my favorite meals right now. (Uh, the applesauce doesn't go on the quesadilla, just in case you're wondering...) I have an appointment with my gastroenterologist next week, so we can discuss my results. I'll have to tell him that, even though my colon is looking great (and I'm SO excited about that!), I'm still having the same problems. We'll see what he says.

I'm being good and sticking to my "one thing a day" rule, and I am noticing no difference at all. lol. Even though I don't feel like I'm getting better, I do see that it's helping me to stabilize. When I'm more conscious and aware of picking and choosing what I get to do, I don't get (as) caught up in the whirlwind of things I want to accomplish and totally burn myself out. I can feel myself wearing down and catch it. I took a nap the past two days (back to that again), and it felt great, especially since I've been really having sleep problems lately.

Did I mention that I'm a tutor now? A friend of mine from school will be coming over a couple of times a week and I'm helping her with her online English course. Funnily enough, it's the English course that I dropped last semester because I had too much on my plate! So I guess I get to take it again ^_^ She paid me a small sum for the first session, and she's coming back tomorrow. I don't care if she pays me, although it's a nice addition to the gas tank if she does. The last session was very tiring, but that could also be because I'd been talking to R for an hour and a half before she showed up.

It was really good to talk to R. I miss him. He gives some of the best advice... but it's not in the form of "here, let me tell you what to do". It's more like talking through the issues and sharing anecdotes from his past and the lessons that he's learned, and also, his concern and care are practically palpable. I talked to him about my marriage fears, and the ideas and examples that he shared with me really helped to ease my mind and heart a lot. I really feel like I can go through with this wedding without feeling like a hypocrite now. (Because I wasn't sure that it was fair of me to get married while still so terrified of the notion, you know? Like, does it even count?) And no, it's not that I'm fearful of marrying C, it's that I'm fearful of what marriage will do to our wonderful relationship, fearful that it will change it for the worse and turn us into one of those couples that doesn't even like each other and doesn't want to be together but won't separate because they don't believe in it... just living separate lives, or fighting and undermining each other...

But I digress. R explained how marriage does change things, and it takes work, and there are ups and downs and you don't always feel happy and necessarily want to be around that person... but the thing is that you chose them, and you love them, and you really do want to be around that person, forever. It's like the long-term, big-picture things weigh in above the short-term, immediate circumstance things and you hang in there through the rough times because you love that person and you want to make a life together. That's what I got out of it, anyway... that even when it's rough, it's still enough to know that you want to be with that person and you love them. And really, I understand that, because C and I have had quite a good share of "rough" already, what with the rocky beginning and my PTSD flares and all the adjustment that comes with living together, and now my fibro and other health problems... We can do rough. Even if I'm crying every night, which I've done during certain stretches. But see, the thing is... it's never about not wanting to be with C. It's about what's going on around or inside me, it's about money or my past or my fears or what someone said or how I feel about a certain thing C is doing or has done... but it's never about un-choosing him. So I think I get it, a little. Maybe not entirely, but I get it, some.

R and I also talked about what's going on with that whole DV thing that went down a while ago. It's cool to see that he fully admits that he made mistakes that night, and that he went overboard, but I do agree with him when he says that he's not domestically violent. I overreacted to the situation too, and hurt him very much, which I regret. None of us can take back what happened, but he's really getting the crappy end of the stick. His retirement is in danger, all this crazy stuff is going on... but he is determined to "take his lumps", as he put it, and just slog through this mess the best he can. I'm proud of him. I'm also really proud of him for the steps forward he's taking in managing his anger. He actually consciously processed through why he was angry the other day, and made the decision to let it go because he didn't want to ruin the day/evening for everyone else. That is so mature. I've never heard him do anything like that before, and I'm really impressed. Not to say that it's going to happen every time, of course, because really? Let's be real. One step forward, two steps back. That's how this stuff goes down, and R is a human being who is learning and growing. But he is stepping forward, and what's more, he wants to be stepping forward. If that isn't worthy of respect, I don't know what is. I'm so proud of my daddy :)

Today was a great day, in and of itself. C and I hit the shooting range mid-afternoon, because pistol qualifications are coming up and he needs to practice. We'll be heading out there next week, too. I took my homework and did some reading in between picking up his empty shells to be refilled. We would have stayed longer, but C ran out of ammo, so there really wasn't much we could do but pack up and leave. When we got home, we decided to watch some Star Wars, as I'm currently watching my way through the series. Since we need to do our own music after all, we have now settled on the Imperial March as our exit song :) Seriously, if our marriage has half of the tenacity and determination of Vader and the Imperial forces, nothing can stop us. I see it as a good omen.

While getting ice cream, we (mostly I, as C was occupied with choosing his ice cream flavors and paying for our treats) met a young couple our age who share some of our unique interests and hobbies! It's funny how it all worked out, but it started when the guy, J, commented that he liked my choker. (I was wearing the collar that I recently purchased.) That led to a discussion about Renaissance festivals, and it turns out that they're Rennies, too! They're heading up to the Ren Faire soon that C and I will be visiting the week before our wedding. As the convo progressed, we found out that we were similar ages, newlyweds both (C and I are due in 6 weeks, and they've been married 4 months), and--get this-- he's a gamer like C. He plays the same games, but his wife, C, is like me and mostly watches.

I gave the card of the leatherworker who made my collar to J (yes, another J to add to my blog! lol) and ended up writing my email and fb info on the back so we can get together and hang out. They're pretty new to the area and looking for friends, and I'm looking to expand my social circle as well. We really hit it off in the short time that we talked, and I'm looking forward to hearing from them. J said several times (and his C affirmed it) that "we'll definitely hit you guys up soon!" I'm excited :D

What's crazy about the whole thing is all the little bits and pieces that had to come together just so in order for us to meet this couple. First of all, I'm surprised that I had the leatherworker's card in the first place. I usually don't get or keep business cards. Secondly, I was only wearing the collar because I was wearing a particular dress that I like to wear the collar with (though I only put it on to go out, and wasn't wearing it around the house today), but I was only wearing the dress because of a comment C made last night that led to my wearing it today. If I hadn't been wearing the dress that led to the collar, or the collar that I debated about putting on before we left the house, the conversation never would have begun in the first place.

Okay, so then there's timing. We were going to go to Target right after we finished our movie (and there's the whole thing about what if we'd stayed at the range longer, what if we hadn't watched the whole movie, what if this, what if that, etc.), but we got a bit... distracted... by each other and didn't leave for a little while longer. So then the shopping and browsing all took place, but if I'd spend less or more time at any of those stores, we would have missed them. If the frozen yogurt place had been open, we wouldn't have gone to Coldstone, and we missed the closing time by just 7 minutes.

It's really crazy how all those little things worked together so that we would be standing next to each other in line and I would be wearing a conversation piece that appealed to all involved. Crazy, I tell you. Even if nothing ever comes of this, if no friendship ensues, the event itself was so cool that it just makes me happy to think about it. Plus it was really fun, 'cause they're great people! We had a blast chatting it up. I really do hope that we can become friends. (Plus I feel super adult, making friends with another couple, you know?)

I wrapped up my day by drinking mint tea to soothe my roiling tummy and filing my taxes. Not a bad ending to a good day, especially since I'm getting a decent sized refund. It's enough to pay off the bulk of my credit card debt, and I'm very, very pleased about that. I hate being in debt, even if it's totally legitimate debt.

I think I might be able to take another whack at my homework before turning in for the night. Think I'll go read my chapter on the bed while I listen to C hack apart monsters in Guild Wars. That sounds pleasant :)

Ahhh, Christmas day with the folks. It's always fun, and I don't mean that in a facetious way. Besides increasing in material wealth (and really no matter how much of a grumpy pants you are, getting stuff is nice. Can we just be honest about that for once?), I enjoy seeing how our family traditions evolve over the years.

Mom and I had an intense gift-wrapping marathon on Christmas Eve Eve (not a typo), but we didn't quiiiiiite finish. We started around 3 or 4, but by midnight we were exhausted. We thought we might finish up on Christmas Eve, but that didn't work out, as we had grocery shopping and prescription filling to do, not to mention Mom's last minute gift shopping. She knew what she wanted, but just hadn't been able to get out and get it yet.

So Christmas morning I awoke bright and early and realized that I was not hungry at all. Usually, I make Christmas breakfast, but my appetite was shot and no one else was really up. R informed us that Mom had been up with the baby a lot of the night, so she planned to sleep until 11, then we could open gifts. Upon hearing that, I headed back to bed for a nap of my own. The unwrapped presents and all the wrapping paraphernalia had been set up in my room for the past few days, so Mom came in when she woke up. She was asking if I was okay, probably because I was still in bed! After I assured her that it was just a nap and explained how my pain killers had stopped being pain killers, she came back with a nice little Tylenol-Aleve cocktail for me... which also didn't really do much. lol

Anyway, I got up and wrapped a few more things while Mom was getting her coffee and all that, then took over the baby for K. Little Peanut fell asleep in my arms, so I pawned her off on Grampa R when we all gathered to open presents, because it's really difficult to open gifts with a sleeping infant in your arms! That, of course, meant he had to wait to open his until he could hand her off to Gramma Mom. It was like playing hot potato. :)

One tradition that has stuck around my whole life is that we take turns opening a present at a time, and the whole family watches that one person's reaction as they open their gift. It helps keep the focus off of the material goods and more on the experience of the gifting from a loved one, if that makes sense. It's not just about "getting stuff", it's about the thought and effort that was put into finding the thing that would make that person squeal/laugh/fall on the floor and twitch with joy. (That twitching thing has actually happened.) We typically go from youngest to oldest, and even little Peanut got some presents. Her mommy opened them for her, of course, since she was sleeping. Oh, and there's that whole fine motor control thing that she's lacking, too...

Something that I love about my family is that they come up with the most amazing gifts. Everything I got this year was unique but practical (and packable!), and generally either really awesome/sweet or totally hysterical. For instance, I now have an ice cube tray that makes koi-shaped ice cubes, a t-shirt from the REAL Mystic Pizza Parlor in CT, a rubber ducky armada (complete with soundtrack), a Wal-Mart gift card with strict instructions to use it to splurge on myself and not get all practical, a container of specialty tea and a gift card to a store that is devoted entirely to tea and tea accessories, and a Black Knight plush toy with detachable arms and legs.

After opening gifts, K and her boyfriend had to leave so that they could make it to his grandmother's house before all of his family took off. They took Peanut with them, and the house is so quiet and empty without her... I feel like an empty nester. Also, I don't know what to do with all my free time anymore. So, since I was still feeling run down, I went back to bed! Hehe. That's what I'll do with my free time-- I'll nap. :)

Mom jumped into the kitchen and whipped up a stellar Christmas dinner, which we all thoroughly enjoyed... even the pets. Mom totally spoils them and feeds them scraps from the table. J drifted off to her room after dinner, Jr went to his room because he's sick, and Mom, R, and I hung out in the living room and watched Dr. Who for a couple of hours. We interspersed episodes with conversation, and I worked on wedding stuff. (Okay, so maybe it was more than a couple of hours... we DID stay up until one, after all...) I finished off the night with a phone call to my beloved, and it was so good to hear his voice. I only have 10 more days until I'm back home, and while it seems like both a long and a short time, I know that it will absolutely fly by. Soon I'll be back in school again, back to the grind... sort of. I've got a lot of big life changes coming up, so things will be different in many ways.

I'm a bit disappointed that we'll be spending New Year's Eve at K and her boyfriend's apartment. It's not that I don't want to see their place (and her baby) and hang out with them, but he's invited his family... and I've not heard good things about them. Our family always hangs out together and eats popcorn, drinks Martinelli's, and plays games or watches a movie. I'm sad to miss out on that in lieu of spending a day (and possibly the next day?) with a bunch of people that aren't pleasant to be around. Oh well. I know that it is important to K that I see her home, so I will brave it for her sake. So I'll be sad to miss out on our traditions. Big deal. I'll survive.

Oh, and Peanut was in her little red and white "Baby's First Christmas" outfit with the sparkly red tutu. A-dorable. Ridiculously so. I have this hypothesis that the universe is powered solely on baby cuteness, and if that is so, then she is contributing more than her share.

It was a good day. I'm very grateful for my family... especially because of all the craziness and quirks. I don't think I'd fit in anywhere else :)

C took me to the pumpkin patch today.

I woke at a good time (covering my eyes to block out all light is helping with my sleep problems some-- helps the pineal gland regulate the production of melatonin), and spent a couple of hours working on a project for C. Don't tell him, but I'm compiling all the blog posts I've written about him, letters I wrote to my future husband, and letters/notes I've written to him into a book, which will also contain the backstory of our "love story". It'll be my gift to him, either before or after the wedding. Haven't decided yet. The reasoning behind it is that, on that first night we spent back together figuring out and declaring our undying love for each other, a repeated comment from both parties was that we could write a book about our story-- a multi-volume set! Also, I figure it'll be cool for the kids to read someday. They can see how their mommy and daddy got together.

After showering I spent some quality time with C while he woke up, then headed off to Goodwill to cobble together my costume for the zombie haunted house. I'll be a pseudo-military survivor leading groups through the supposedly uncontaminated abandoned warehouse to the safe zone. Unfortunately for us, we find out once we're inside that the place is infested with zombies, and I try to get the group through safely. As I'm herding them out the large steel doors at the end, I get snatched by a zombie and the door slams shut. (This will allow me to make my way back to the beginning and start with a new group.) On the other side, they receive their "rations" (candy) and are chased by zombies/military personnel out the gate and into the parking lot. It's going to be an adrenaline rush, that's for sure. And gross. I hate zombies. If this weren't for the HJ (proceeds are being donated), and if I didn't love theater... Well, I won't be a zombie, anyway. I'm a survivor. Ooh-rah!

I was disappointed to realize that today is not 50% Off day as I had thought, but I didn't realize it until after I'd paid. Too late! It was pretty inexpensive regardless. Even after tattering up the clothes, I have a feeling that at least the shirt will become a favored item of clothing... especially after it's spattered with fake blood.

When I got home, I whipped up some chicken, broccoli, and black beans. I was the only one who ate the beans (which were great with the chicken, 'cause I cooked it in green salsa), but C actually voluntarily ate a good size helping of both broccoli and chicken! And cake. lol. I had more broccoli for dessert.

After hanging out for a while, watching an episode of some tv show S has on his computer, and having an INCREDIBLY silly conversation about S cloning dinosaurs and C training, riding, and taking them into the store with him ("What? It's my seeing eye dinosaur!"), we packed up and headed out to the pumpkin patch.

The patch itself wasn't much special-- a local church puts it on, and it's geared towards little kids, but there was no way I could know that-- but we had fun regardless. We worked the hay maze and hung out in the petting zoo, where I made a couple of good friends, both of the donkey persuasion. One bit my shoulder and then stared at me after I gave him a good talking to, and the other (a miniature donkey) kept butting me with his head in search of scratches and trying to climb in my lap. No joke. Unfortunately, C says we cannot have a donkey. Apparently the dining room is not a great place to keep one. (I say it'll keep the snake good company.)

Our time at the patch was over rather quickly, so we swung by WalMart on our way home, ended up wandering around the aisles looking at random things. Mostly exercise equipment. And candles. He bought me three candles, because I couldn't decide what scent I wanted. Simmering Apple Cider is wafting through the room as we speak.

C and I also had some really good conversation about our future kids, the atmosphere of our future home, instilling morals in our kids (in addition to self-defense tactics) and such.

We came home and I tidied up, cleaned the bathroom (as I've been hankering to do for days, but just didn't feel well enough), worked on my costume, took a walk, and now I'm watching the Princess Bride as I work on the bail websites.

Pshew.

It has been a really, really good day.

I'm so glad I'm feeling better.

I love my mate.

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!

Yes, I'll admit, I stole that term. It is oh-so-fitting, I couldn't just leave it alone and coin my own phrase. (Did I mention that I'm pretty enthralled with A Practical Wedding? That's where I got the term.)

I did some thinking about this on my walk tonight. It dovetails so perfectly with my recent themes of balance, contentment, and joy that it seems... I dunno, almost providential?

I went through a little bit of the pre-engagement crazy this spring. C and I had gone through premarital counseling (pre-engagement, really) and knew that we wanted to get married. I, of course, am of the let's do it now! persuasion, while C is not. He's got that whole level-headed thing going on.

While I was in Id, I was so sure that he was going to propose. I was practically obsessed with it. I guess I felt that being engaged would lend credence to my choice, would solidify the relationship and make it so that it was for sure not going to end again. I wanted security, I wanted assurance, and I wanted a ring on my left hand.

Yeah, so that didn't happen. I got a ring, but for my right hand. It's beautiful. It's actually the restored version of my engagement ring that was crushed under the S's rig's tire a couple winters ago. I wear it often, and it usually brings a smile to my face when I look at it. It represents so much of the history that is woven between C and I, and it represents the future that we have yet to create together. It's the past, restored. It's the future, unwritten. It's... perfect, in its own imperfect way.

But security within a relationship does not come by rings alone.

Now that I'm actively planning the wedding, it's calmed down some. My personality type is that of once I've decided to do something, then do it! Pursue it until you run out of steam. And always, always looking forward to the "next thing". So simply being in a loving, committed relationship wasn't enough. Nope. Had to be engaged, had to be planning a wedding for it to mean anything.

There are a couple of factors in this one. One is that I know that a large majority of the crowd I've run with the past five years will disapprove of the match on principle. They don't know C, but that doesn't matter. Or, worse yet, they know that I left five years ago and would liken it to a dog returning to its vomit. So! If I'm married, then they can't do or say anything but ruefully shake their heads, and I'm fine with rueful shaking.

Aha, you say, aha! The sign of a guilty conscience! Turn back now, before it's too late!

Um, no, actually. I just need everyone to approve of what I do. The sign of a codependent.

As I'm growing beyond that, I find that I do not need the ring to give me the confidence in this relationship to withstand imagined guilt trips. I can stand on my own two feet and choose a right choice without fear of the repercussions from those who might not like what I'm doing. (This, by the way, will probably be inevitable at some point in your life. That whole pleasing people thing? It doesn't work out too well in practical application.)

The second factor is guilt. Yes, guilt. Believe it or not, there are a lot of cultural expectations and baggage that go along with relationships-- what's right, what's not, what's appropriate for certain time frames, what you should be doing by a certain point in time, etc. I feel guilty planning a wedding without the ring because, well... I'm not allowed to.

I know, I know. It's silly. But the message has been burned so deep into my psyche that it's almost irresistible. I am afraid that C will be upset with me now that I'm in the actual "buying things" stage. Seriously. I scored that neat-o cupcake holder/candle holder thing last week, but I was scared to show it to him. Why? Well, because I'm only his girlfriend. Like, by planning the wedding, I'm pushing him into something he may not want. I'm not his fiance. He hasn't asked me to marry him. Therefore I have no place planning our wedding.

(Nevermind the fact that he helped me set the date, that he's the one who helped me pare down my side of the guest list, that he's the one who found our invitations, that he... well, you get the point.)

As I thought about it, it occurred to me... do I actually need a proposal? Do I need to hear him say the words, "Will you marry me?"

And no. The answer is no. I do need to be reassured that I'm not bullying him into this, and I do need to be reassured that he does want to marry me, but... I don't actually need a ring on my left hand.

I mean, it'd be nice. I can't deny that. I love gifts, I love surprises, and I love romance. But do I need it? Nope. (Actually, edit that: I do really, really want him to actually ask me to marry him, but I don't need the traditional proposal, per se, or the "status symbol" of the ring. Does that make sense?)

Because I am content. I am secure. I am happy. I am loved. And I know that a ring on my left hand isn't going to change our relationship one iota besides giving me bragging rights and a story to tell. It'll change my title, but it won't change the way he looks at me.

I didn't realize it until today, actually, but I've stopped looking for the proposal. I mean, we're getting married in 6 months. Who cares?!

Back at the beginning of this round, during one of our lengthy, soul-revealing talks, I asked him playfully, "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

You know what his answer was?

"Your husband."

That's my proposal, right there.

I was thinking about this last night as I took a walk (3.3 miles, not too shabby). And somewhat yesterday "morning" as C and I were at the range. And during the week, while I was laid out on the couch, sick.

Suffice to say that it's been on my mind in various forms a lot lately. :)

I feel like I'm finally learning how to do life well. Probably due in part to The Gifts of Imperfection and A Deeper Story, my mindset is changing. Imperfection doesn't send quick bolts of fear to my heart like it used to. (Um, okay, as much as it used to.)  My vocabulary is changing. I no longer seek the right choice, as though there were only one right way to do things out of the myriad of choices we are presented every day, but a right choice. I have come to believe that there is more than one right way to do things, more than one right choice. Maybe they vary in degrees of rightness-- I haven't gotten that far in refining my personal philosophy yet. But I'm breaking free of my black and white prison.

Probably part of it is due to my wonderful mate. (I almost typed husband! Almost... just 6 more months.) His no-frills way of approaching the world has helped me to be realistic, to take the machete of common sense to many of the briars that had grown up to choke my mind. It's not all briars, to be sure. I come across many valuable little plantings that I want to keep and nurture. And sometimes he disagrees, and that's okay. We have fun little clashings, interesting philosophical conversations that leave both of us shaking our heads because it's like trying to talk to a rock. (We're both a little stubborn, and too smart for our own good.)

Maybe it's because I have stability and safety, I can focus on the smaller aspects of life now. I can take the time to be good to myself, to speak my own love language, to be kind to myself. I don't have to be "on" twenty-four hours a day. And that is a huge relief and blessing.

Another thing I'm learning is to just let the day happen. Don't try to force it into a mold of what you think it ought to be like. Just let it go. Experience it as it comes. This is what I was thinking of yesterday at the range. I have a habit of looking forward to something being over even when it's hardly begun. Maybe so I can remember it and think about it, I don't know. It's like my chewing habits, but with experiences. I bolt down one forkful because I'm already looking forward to the next.

I think this "chewing thoroughly" thing is teaching me more than I'd bargained for.

Anyway, yesterday we went out and C taught me how to shoot his pistol. (I'm not good, but I'm not bad, either. If someone were coming at me, I'd say I have a 70% chance of hitting them, but odds are it wouldn't be where I was aiming!) (C is telling me that if someone is coming at me, I ought to treat it like the Renaissance one-shot pistols they used to use in sword fights-- fighting, fighting, take your pistol out and plant it directly against their chest. Did it go off? No? Then keep fighting with your sword! lol Apparently pirates used to do it that way, because it takes your chances of missing down to zero, and they already had to worry about whether or not the gun would actually go off, because the powder might be wet, etc.)

While we were out there, I found myself wanting it to be over, not because I wasn't having a good time (I rather enjoyed myself), but just because that's what I do. Fortunately, I caught myself, and I was able to focus and be more or less present for the rest of the few hours we were out there.

And as far as "planning my days"... I've more or less given that up. I mean, there are certain things I need to accomplish on certain days, to be sure, and I work on getting them done. What I mean is that detailed scheduling that I'm so fond of. "Okay, I'll do homework from one to three-thirty, at which point I should be done, then I'll clean the house from three-thirty to five, and then C and I will watch a movie, and then we'll do this, and then while he's playing SWOTR, I'll do this certain craft, and then..." Yeah, that's kind of boring. Plus it leads to frustrated expectations. What if C doesn't want to watch a movie, or cuddle with me when he gets home like I thought in my mind, or what if he wants to play SWOTR first and then do something with me, or what I if I don't feel like doing that craft? I think that dissective mindset was one of the things that led me to "soldier through" the day and activities, even if I wasn't feeling it. Like, I said I was gonna do it, so by gum I'll do it!

Allowing myself to take naps really shattered that. I can't exactly schedule a nap into my day, because who knows if I'll even need one, or how long I'll nap for, or... anything?

It's so much more pleasant to know what I need to get done and just let the day evolve as it will. There are times (especially this last week!) when I have to tell myself, Look, I know you want to quit this and do something fun. I understand, and I'm sorry. But this needs to be done, and you need to do it. Yes, you will be rewarded for your hard work, just not right now. Capice? So it's not like I just goof off and let my days fly to the wind. It's more of an "I'm not dead set on when this must occur, and if I don't get everything accomplished today that I'd like to, it's not the end of the world and I can get it done tomorrow."

I like this new way of living.

I like the little things that I'm free to do now. I like feeling free to buy myself a bouquet of flowers and decorate the jar that I put them it. I like being able to go to Michael's in the evening and window shop. I like being able to take long walks. I like being able to cook myself good food. I like being able to watch a movie, with or without C. I like being able to take a nap, should I so desire. I like being able to spend an hour or two Stumbling neuroscience articles, craft sites, and cartoons. I like my plans to decorate the house for fall, just because. I like being able to take time to just freak out if I'm dealing with stuff, if I need to.

I like my life.

I'm happy with it.

I never thought I'd be able to say that with such conviction and satisfaction.

It's a strange feeling, this being content... Not an emotion, exactly, though it does manifest as deeply iridescent bubbles that break through and tickle my heart from time to time.

Emotions. I've had plenty of those over the past few days, weeks, and months. Anxiety, discouragement, pain, fear, hope, joy, love, betrayal, depression, doubt, relief, courage... the list goes on and on. My emotional life tends toward the turbulent. Even these past few days, I've swung over a pretty good area of the grid.

This "content", though... it's different. Associated with emotions, but not an emotion in and of itself. It's like, even after watching the movie and going through the inevitable "bad" feelings... the content was still there, underneath. It's like... I'm happy with my life. I like where I'm at, I like where I'm headed... I'm happy with the way I'm handling life...

I am having such a difficult time putting this into words!! That's unusual for me.

I guess it's just that I believe I'm making good decisions with my life, I deep to my core believe I'm doing the right thing, and maybe that's a little unusual for me to have that certainty. One of the worst things about Christianity was the whole "following God's will except that you don't actually really know God's will and you have to walk by faith but remember that the devil is walking about like a roaring lion and tricking people so be careful because even if something seems to be the right thing it may actually not be and by taking a leap of faith you might actually be playing right into Satan's hands but you still need to be in God's will so just... pray" thing. I was literally paralyzed with fear over doing the wrong thing. All the time. I couldn't make a decision in my life, hardly, and if I did I was consumed with worry that I'd done the wrong thing until something amazing happened that would reassure me that I had aimed right. It felt like trying to throw a dart at the period at the end of the sentence from eight feet away.

But now... now that I'm thinking through decisions myself, weighing the pros and cons and taking responsibility for the future consequences and ramifications of my actions, well... it's freeing, really. Going to school is a good decision. Being with C is a good decision. Marrying him is even better. You know what? Leaving church was a good decision. I know, I know. Heathen. Going to hell. Whatever. If you look at the fruits of a decision, you see whether it was good or not. Setting boundaries, interpersonal relationships with people of different convictions, examining my relationship with God, study about what and why I believe, re-examination of my self-worth and relationship to performance... contentment. Contentment that I didn't have while I was "in the faith". Fear robbed me of that. Fear and uncertainty. Fear of doing wrong, of being wrong, of rejection. Boy, have I ever had to face up to those fears! Seriously. When you're paralyzed by the thought of making a mistake and an entire subculture will unanimously stand up and declare you to be making a mistake, well...

No, I didn't leave church so that I could party without feeling bad. I left so that I could live my life without feeling bad, I think.

And thus I am content.

Bad stuff will continue to rock my boat. Stress sends me limping to bed some days. Finances leave me curled up and sobbing on the bed from time to time. Nightmares and flashbacks wind me up to tense and raging.

But underneath that all, once the storm clouds blow over a little... I still like who I am. And I still like where I'm at. And I still like who I'm with. And I still think that God and I, we're going to be okay.

It's 40 degrees today. I can see my breath outside. It's grey and overcast, drizzling rain.

I love days like this.

I'm done fasting- my culinary curiosities have piqued, and I'm in a cooking mood.

Oh, and a Norah Jones mood.

I love days like this. :)