Making a fresh start...again

For so much of the last year and half, I thought that it was me. I thought that all my feelings weren't justified and that if I kept repeating the things I thought were right out loud, they would be. It never happened. It never worked. It will never work because if you really don't feel something, you can't make yourself start to feel it. My mistake was thinking that because what I really wanted with someone else never happened, because I never said it out loud or voiced it enough, it could change if I did say what I thought I should have with someone I only had lukewarm feelings for. That sentence barely makes sense, but I'm writing as I think it. I have to get this down! You see, I was happy for some months in my relationship with my now ex-boyfriend. But then when I got sick from a slightly unsuccessful surgery a few months before, everything changed. I was always sad and I was always in pain. I thought that it was my fault for not trying hard enough to be a wonderful girlfriend and supportive and not feeling like I couldn't be away from him all the time confused me. I have always needed my space, no matter who I was dating, but I remember my first boyfriend and there were days where he would have to be out of town or something and I would ache for him. I never did that this time. And this time I thought he was the one I would marry. For one reason, he stuck around when I had a migraine or when so many problems occurred with my Endometriosis and then when the Syncope hit. Another was that he was also waiting until he was married to have sex and whatnot and there was never any pressure to do something I wasn't ready for. (I've had so many relationships that ended on that one note. I'm pretty calloused.) Sure he made me happy at times, but more often he made me furious. He never remembered anything, and I literally mean anything. I had to get him a notebook that he could write things down in so he could tell me. Another, he showed off too much about some of the private things we had together. He never complimented me or encouraged me. He never made me feel special or cherished. I know he loved me and I believe he still does, but I don't think I loved him as much. I wanted to create a life with him, but the longer it seemed to take for him to get started on his career and his master's degree, it seemed like I'd be 30 before I'd even get a ring! (And all our plans were based on him finishing things and getting permanent living accommodations, never what I wanted to finish before I got married and I guess he assumed that because I was sick I never would finish? I don't know what he thought, I never asked.) He never pushed himself to be what he wanted and instead stuck to being who his parents brought up and thrived on. After seeing him with his family with no airs of just being there a few hours or so, it was amazing to see that he wasn't the "whipping boy" as he had always told me. He was the perfect child. And whatever they said to do, he did, even if it meant hurting me. His acceptance of mediocrity was his pride and joy. I could never live like that and I don't. I've been taught to be who I want to be and stand strong for what and WHO I believe in. I'd like to think I've never faltered in those areas, but if I have, I've felt guilty for not doing what was right. What felt right. For so long, this relationship didn't feel right and I could never really put a nail to its head until I saw this person change in a literal blink of an eye. He wasn't who he claimed he was, he was his parent's perfect concoction with a rage and hatred no person should possess. He did EXACTLY as he was told, even though it affected me so deeply I didn't know what to think. He never treated me indifferently until his parents showed him how to. And that was the end.

I am a strong young woman. I have my own thoughts, dreams, likes, dislikes, tastes, tolerances, faults, messes, wants, needs, mannerisms, etc... My parents made me thanks to God's beautiful design, but I am not a pet child that they trained. Especially because I was taught not to NEED a man, but to WANT one. They gave me tools and guidance and still do when I ask for it or if they see the train coming and I'm blind to it, but thats it. I am so thankful for that and they respect me for who I became and still work on becoming. They love me and my gosh, I love them so much! I don't know what I'd do without them!

...But I never felt that way about him. I'd think about it and I knew I could do without him and I'd be okay. And I know the difference.

I guess what I've learned is that just because someone will stick around when you are at a complete loss for a life vivaciously lived as before doesn't mean they are meant to be there forever. I've had people come and go in my life and I know some of them served a certain purpose and once that was fulfilled it was time to separate or leave, sometimes painfully so. But something I've also learned is that if someone is meant to be in your life, possibly for the rest of it, they'll be there always. Even if they have to realize the loss of you and find that they can't do without you either. I lost something I thought was the answer and in the end, found a much better reason to grow. For now, that's my focus. That's where I'll go. I am everything he never thought much about and everything his parents disliked, but thats fine by me. I can look in the mirror and say I'm worth a heck of a lot more. My worth is what God thinks and at the end of the day, what I think. Between the two of us, we'll get it right and I have faith in that.

The 1920's

All my life I have known I was meant for another era. My body isn't popular for this time period and one day when I was younger I saw musicals based on The Roaring '20's and I saw women who looked like me! They were long, flat and leggy, but at the same time beautiful in more simplistic lines. Lace was popular and so was Satin. Gorgeous make-up was caked, and I mean caked, on but it was perfect for the fairest in face. The hair! Oh I loved the hair that was cut to go under the cloche hats and I've always been a hat person. From the ones my mom bought me to wear on Easter, to "Blossom" hats, to baseball caps, to fedoras and derbies...they just don't get old. And of course, the music and DANCING!!!!!!!!!! So full of melodies and beautiful words like Gershwin wrote. Everyone started dancing whenever they went out without a care. I have always like to think I dance for enjoyment and not because I had to. I never look at it as having to anyway. The style of the decade is such a symbol for life in that everyone was more carefree and said "Whatever happens, happens!" and that even after such a desperate time as WW1 you can pick yourself up and continue on. I love it.

I'm Better Off When I Hit The Bottom

Since March 21, 2009, I have had some pretty complicated health problems. The more that I had to go through, the more doctors I had to see, the more I found I kept falling farther from better, the more I had to lay in my bed and look at the ceiling...I never thought I would find happiness again. The sadness has been HEAVY. I thought finding out I had an eating disorder was the worst thing I could do to myself, but all this wasn't my fault. There isn't a cure or understanding to Endometriosis, nor is there anything good that happens when you are 23 and have to take Lupron Despot injections to get rid of pain caused from surgery. I lost all my energy, my dancer's body, my self-worth, and my sense of self.

September 12, 2009, I started to pass out for no reason that we knew of and it was going on about 12 times a day. Once again, I had to stay in bed in order to keep myself safe, have CONSTANT supervision, see more doctors, and take many trips to the ER and a stay in the hospital. Finally, I started seeing a doctor that treats Mitral Valve Prolapse (MVP) and Dysautonomia, which I have always known I've had. Seeing this doctor, I had confirmation that A) I wasn't crazy and there was something wrong with me and B) There was hope and the need for patience. 9 months later, I am still passing out but it might be once a day IF that, but I have had to try lots of different medicines and one in particular made me SO sick. I drink loads of water and eat anything salty. I am finally feeling like I'm out of the darkness.

When you are so low the only thing you feel you can do is turn over in bed, you have to push. You have to fight. You have to pray. I could be someone that said, "God, why are you doing this to me?" every day, but instead, I started to see that He was teaching me patience, compassion, love and strength...within myself. I never really had that and it was my own ignorance, not because of lack of encouragement. I've lost some things, but nothing that I can't see in view. I am getting better and instead of feeling like there is a light at the end of the tunnel, I feel like I'm out and looking for the right direction to go next.

And the best thing is, I know who is guiding me and who has been guiding me for a very long time.

Always.