*Jazz Hands* Mom

I am all heart. I always have been. It is my greatest strength…and my greatest weakness.

If I give you my heart, you’ll always have a piece of it. If I ever loved you, I still do in one way or another…even if I have to do so from afar. If you ever broke my heart, that lingers as well.

I’ve talked before about how I do nothing in half measures. That includes…maybe even especially…my heart.

So, I find it rather ironically hilarious that it’s my heart that doesn’t want to work right anymore.

Literally or figuratively.

I can’t find that whole hearted person I was a year ago. I can’t find that woman who truly had started to believe that she could be loved by those around her. I can’t find the hopeful heart that believed everything was going to be ok.

And…dude…I can’t even find the heart that physically works right for the things I love to do.

So…I’m finding my heart.

In the middle of a maze…surrounded by detours of hurt and confusion…mis-led by doctors who are kind of dumb (seriously…one told me it’s ok to run alone because I’ll probably pass out some but he’s not worried I’ll STAY unconscious…. 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️)…a little cracked…a little worn…beating irregularly…

My heart is still in there. My whole heart. The heart of a woman who will never give up and will always find beauty in the world…it’s still there…I’m still her.

Physically, I’ll rely on the Mayo Clinic doctors. I will trust that they can help me be the woman I was even six months ago. I will believe that they will fix this and let me be the woman that I love…the one that I believe others can love.

For my emotional heart…I take baby steps. I take small steps away from things that are hurting me. I take steps towards the things that make me happy. I focus on being able to recognize the difference.

I will find my heart. In the middle of that maze…in the mess that it is currently surrounded by…I will find my heart AND the strength to hold it no matter the storm.

Not gonna lie…that image was a labor of love…or obsession…turns out there’s not an online generator to spell words out using bacon strips. Someone should get on that.

Also, I am now really hungry.

But it also wound up being the perfect segue into what I wanted to write about today.

You know that saying, “Going in whole hog”? Yeah…pretty sure there’s a picture of me next to that saying in some online dictionary. I do everything to extremes…some might say obsessively.

I’ve always felt like it was my responsibility to always do better…be better…make the world better. <—– That part…I’ve had three firm beliefs in my life. 1. If you know of a way to make the world better and you don’t…then you’re part of the problem. 2. Since I’ve seen so much of the bad in the world, it’s my responsibility to put that much good back into it. 3. There is nothing right about putting less than your all into anything you try to do.

So…everything I do…WHOLE HOG. I didn’t just go back to school, I had to take the school by storm. I don’t just do my job at work, I have to be the person consistently told things like, “You always put in 110%” and “You can’t expect others to be like you…most people won’t put in what you do.”. Join an organization? Why just join? Let me help make it better!

Everything I do is to the extreme.

I always thought that going Whole Hog was a good thing.

But…I don’t want to be the whole hog anymore. I’m realizing that I don’t have to be…and that people only expect so much out of me because I’ve shown them that they always can. I’ve shown them that I’ll do what others don’t want to. I’ve shown them that I’ll pick up the slack. I’ve shown them that I’ll make sure no one else has to do anything…for themselves or for me.

And you know what that leaves me? Exhausted and lonely.

I used to have a sign in my kitchen. “Expectations Lead To Future Resentments”. It’s true. If you expect more from people than they can give, then you will grow to resent them. But…I still always felt that expecting what I gave wasn’t expecting more than they could give.

But every person is different. Every person can/will give in different ways, in different times, in different capacities. Their effort is the best they can do and doesn’t have to match mine.

But, also…

I don’t have to save the world.

I can join an organization and just…join.

I can meet a new person and just…be a normal friend.

I can be good at my job without running the place.

I can take up a new hobby and not try to achieve new world records.

I don’t have to go Whole Hog.

I can go Half Hog.

Maybe even a Quarter Hog.

Or…just…you know…

Call me bacon.

I know that I’m disappointing people left and right lately.

I’ve been told I’m not the person I was a year ago. I’ve been told I’m not fighting hard enough. I’ve been told I’m fighting too hard. I’ve been told I’m not staying positive. I’ve been told to stop being so positive and making jokes. I’ve been told that I’m pushing too hard physically. I’ve been told to try harder. I’ve been told I shouldn’t be so open. I’ve been told I need to be more vulnerable. I’ve been told I’m not asking for enough help. I’ve been told I need to take care of myself.

I’ve always joked about #YoureDoingItWrong , but I feel like I’m doing everything wrong.

But I’m trying.

I AM still me.

I’m still stubborn and refuse to give up. Even if you don’t see me fighting because you’re not there for that part. I’m also learning to be more accepting. Even if you don’t see the modifications and compromises I’m making.

I’m still positive and finding silver linings constantly. Even if you were there for a breakdown, that’s not the always. I’m also being realistic about the fact that some things have changed and not for the better. Even if you were only there for the jokes I’ve made about falling down.

I’m still open and vulnerable about the fight. Even if you saw me struggling to find the words. I’m also learning that sometimes it’s ok if I can’t find the words.

I still take care of me. I have to. Even if you saw me ask for help. Because I have learned, more than ever, to accept help. Even if I couldn’t ask you for it.

I’m trying.

I’m pushing.

I’m positive.

I’m real.

I’m me.

Some people look at this picture and see a tarot card. I look at it and see what was my life.

I spent many, many years doing the hermit thing. It was safe. If I didn’t let anyone too close…I wouldn’t find out again that I wasn’t enough…or that I was too much. If I didn’t lean on anyone…I wouldn’t fall. If I went ahead and made myself alone, I didn’t have to find out the hard way that I was alone anyway.

Don’t get me wrong. I had friends. They all lived in the computer. If I thought I was annoying them, I could close the screen and it was over. If they decided they didn’t like me they could just hit the little X by my name. No muss, no fuss.

But…for in person contact? Well, let’s just say I had my headphones in A LOT. (Even when they died and there was no music. Lol)

I won’t pretend it was the best life…but it was safe. I needed safe.

Then…I dated this dude for a little while. Through him I met a world of people who didn’t live inside the computer. They could…like…touch and hug me and shit. (And, boy oh boy, do they like to do that.) Suddenly…my world was very, very different. Much less safe, but also more full…but, again…less safe.

These were people that couldn’t just hit an X to make me go away. These were people that I could disappoint and annoy. These were people who could hurt me if I let them too close.

I love these people. Some of them are some of my best friends in the world. Through them I even met someone who’s pretty dang important to me. So, like I’ve always believed…everything happens for a reason. God put me on this particular path for reasons. And I can’t regret that, even when the close proximity of the real world hurts me. Which it does all of us. But…I got really, really good at avoiding that hurt…I got really, REALLY good at running before anyone else could.

I was a damn good Hermit.

So, now…sometimes my instinct is still to run. When someone hurts me…when people want me to lean more than I can…when I feel like I’m too much or not enough…

I want to run. I want to be The Hermit again.

I wish I could say it’s easy for me to fight that feeling because I love my people so much.

In reality? It’s harder to fight that feeling because I love my people so much.

If I run first…then they don’t get to abandon me, right?

But I AM fighting it. In baby steps. Sometimes I may hole up, but I don’t allow myself to disappear.

I don’t allow myself to fully reclaim my title of The Hermit.

I have always prided myself on having unshakeable faith. I believe that everything happens for a reason. I believe that God has a plan for all of us and that, if we only believe, it’s a beautiful plan. I believe that every tribulation is meant to put you where you’re supposed to be…sometimes for your path…sometimes to help someone else on theirs.

I never stopped believing that.

But I have found out that my faith is shakeable. I can have unshakeable belief that everything is with purpose…but simultaneously wonder if I’m being punished for something. I can KNOW, without a shadow of a doubt, that my God is there and He is listening…but simultaneously wonder if He’s laughing at the joke He put here for His amusement.

The faith that He loves ME is apparently a little bit shakeable.

The faith that the path He has in store for ME isn’t only one of helping others, while I falter, is apparently open to doubt.

This is what I’ve learned. As I’ve dealt with one cosmic kick after another…as I’ve fought to stay strong in both self and faith…I’ve faltered. I haven’t lost faith…but I lost hope.

I lost hope that I can make it through or that, if I did, anyone would still be by my side.

But the reason I lost hope…the reason my faith shook…was because I stopped seeking Him for the answers. I became so wrapped up in putting one foot in front of the other in order to keep moving, that I forgot to allow Him to carry me. I became so intent on staying strong, that I forgot (again!) to lean on Him. I became so afraid of the future, I forgot to let Him comfort me and remind me that He already has it all worked out.

So, I SHOULD be ashamed of this. A center stone of who I am…my faith…was shaken.

But I’m not.

Because in that shaken faith, I found something that I didn’t know…at least not consciously.

Not everything that shakes…breaks.

You see…my faith shook…but as soon as I was ready to stop being a cosmic brat…it was still there. Unbroken, uncracked, and maybe even a little bit prettier than before the shake.

My faith is not a concrete block that cannot be shaken by the hand of fate.

My faith is a snow globe. One of those plastic ones that you give to little kids because it’s unbreakable. The hand of fate can pick it up…it can shake it all around…and then…all we will see is more beauty as the snow falls and blankets the scenery like His love blankets me.

So maybe it’s ok for my faith to be shakeable…so long as I never allow it to be breakable.

Dear Sister,

On this day, when the world celebrates moms, I see you. And you are a superhero.

I see the pain you try to hide.

I see the war you wage as you celebrate your own motherhood, while grieving what never was.

I see the light laughs and excuses you use when people ask how you’re celebrating your mom.

But, mostly, I see the AMAZING mother you have become to your own children despite never having known one yourself. I see the patterns and legacies that you have been strong enough to break to give your children the mother you always wanted.

You are superheros.

And…I see that you are superheros who are often unrecognized and misunderstood.

Today the world celebrates mothers…and grieves with those who have lost their beloved mothers…but they do not see you.

I do.

We live in a society where mothers are always to be loved, adored and respected.

We’ve all seen and heard the words. All mothers love their children. Your mother is the best friend you’ll ever have. You’ll understand one day that everything your mother did was because she loved you.

For those that never had that, they are often told that they misunderstand their mothers. Because, seriously, ALL mothers love their children. ALL mothers do what they do FOR their children.

Except sometimes they don’t. Because…well…mothers are humans. And some humans are broken. Some humans can’t love. Some humans are selfish. Some humans have problems and mental illnesses. Even mothers.

So, some of you grew up without that mom who is being celebrated today. Some of you grieve that connection. Some of you have spent your life wondering why you weren’t enough to earn a mother’s love. Some of you spent your life trying to be “better” so maybe one day you’d be worthy.

I see you.

I am you.

And I am here to tell you…

YOU ARE WORTHY.

YOU ARE LOVED.

YOU WERE A CHILD WITH NO BLAME.

YOU ARE AMAZING AND PERFECTLY IMPERFECT AND DESERVING OF ALL THINGS GOOD AND BEAUTIFUL.

So, today…from one sister to another, I tell you the one thing I hope you focus on all day while YOU are celebrated for being a mom.

You are a superhero. Why do I say that?

You learned how to be this amazing mother, without an example.

You broke the chains of the past.

You became for your children what you always needed.

You have a strength that few will understand.

But I see you.

And I know you see me, too.

So, I will not tell you not to grieve today.  That grief has been earned, but moreso…that grief forged you into the mother that your children love and lean on.

But I will tell you to celebrate yourself.

You are beautiful.

You are amazing.

You are a superhero.

Love,

Sheri

I’ve always loved people watching. I could sit and watch people for hours…watching children play…watching moms chasing after their children…watching friends…lovers…and everyone in between. As someone who’s never really felt like I fully fit, I LOVED watching the way other people fit together.

And, let me tell you, if you’ve never people watched in a train station? THAT is the best people watching you’ll ever do. In one place, you see every part of life. You see the anxious person running late for an appointment. You see the lovers reunited after a weekend apart. You see friends excitedly waiting to depart on an adventure together. You see sad goodbyes and joyful hellos. It’s all there. The good, the bad…the beautiful and the sad.

And I love it. lol

Lately, I feel like my life is that train station. I’m at this point…I don’t know exactly where I’m going…I don’t know which train to get on…I don’t know who wants to be on the trip with me…and I don’t know who I’ll be watching board a train that I can’t get on. So…I just…watch.

I watch new friendships blooming.

I watch old relationships dwindling away.

I watch reunions and departures.

I watch tears of joy…tears of laughter…tears of loss…and tears of fear.

I watch trains departing for lands unknown and I watch the passengers react with an air of adventure…or an air of trepidation…sometimes somewhere in the middle.

But I don’t get on the train with them.

And…for once…I’m not anxious about this feeling of not belonging. I have a few people I belong with. The ones that are departing the station without me…maybe they’ll come back through the station one day…maybe they won’t. If they don’t, I hope their adventures were everything they ever dreamed of. If they do, I’ll be holding the sign for the car service for them to come back home.

Because it’s ok. It’s ok to go through these periods where you don’t know your place…where you may even HAVE to simply observe for awhile as you figure out where YOUR next destination is. It doesn’t mean you don’t belong…it doesn’t even mean that you don’t belong with those people…it simply means that you don’t belong on that particular train going on that specific adventure.

So, I sit here in my train station…and I watch my people. I smile for their laughter…I shed a tear for their sadness…I offer up prayers for their fears…and I offer up hope for their adventures. And as the trains depart…I allow myself the grace to forgive my body for not allowing adventures right now…and I wait for the next train that I’ll get to board to the next beautiful destination in my life.

Dear Zuck,

If you’re reading this, my sentence is up and I have been released. However, I still have things to say. Mostly…

Not Sorry.

Not even a little bit.

See, you put me in jail for two crimes:

1. Being absolutely fucking hilarious. It’s true. There are many areas of life where I fall short. Being funny isn’t one of them. 🤷‍♀️ So…when my hair gets caught in a curling iron, because one area I fall short in is Girling, and I say it sucked my hair up like a French whore…that is not hate speech…that is funny as shit at my own expense. PS My curling iron is not, in fact, a French whore. (But it is a whore.)

2. Being a rabidly loyal friend. I won’t post a screenshot of this one, to protect the innocent, but suffice it to say…if someone hurts one of my people…and I say I’m going to kill him…That is NOT inciting violence. That is BEING violent, but not inciting violence because I didn’t ask anyone to help me. (Get your terms straight.) And I will never be sorry for protecting the people I love.

But, go ahead and send me to jail for being hilarious…while letting guys message women on your apps with unrequested pictures of their junk. Send me to prison for being loyal and protective…while people start wars of hatred on your platform daily.

Just know, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon, because, in the case of Sheri vs Zuck…

🎵He had it comin’…🎵

Pop…six…squish…Cicero…

A few introductions to this particular blog.

First, I have this thing I do when I’m REALLY anxious. I call it the Strikethrough Exercise. When all of the thoughts are swirling…the worries…the negativity…and I feel like I can’t control them…I write them down…one by one…and then…one by one…I cross through each thought and write next to it either THE TRUTH (because anxiety lies) or a positive spin or silver lining to the situation. This exercise forces me to take each thought that’s swirling…separate it…address it…and find a way to show myself that it’s not something I can’t handle. It may sound weird, but it really works for me. One of these lists is what inspired this blog.

Second, every now and then, I come up with a little phrase in my mind (or out loud) that I’m particularly proud of and decide I’m a genius. (The best example of these moments is when I spontaneously told my ex boyfriend, “I don’t hate you. Your face just gives me Tourettes.” That’s a story for another time, but… *proud head nod and smile*…I’m still damn proud of that one.) Today’s random phrase that inspired the title of this blog…

“All of Life’s Wealth is CHANGE”.

So, what does that mean? Think about it in a monetary sense. At the base root of every amount of wealth is dollars. At the base root of every dollar is change. Small change (pennies) and incrementally bigger change…without it, we wouldn’t have wealth.

Life is the same. Without change we can’t have the full level of wealth that our lives are capable of. The friendships. The love. The adventure. The happiness. They all start somewhere. They start with change. Maybe it’s in pennies sometimes (we meet someone new or have a new opportunity) or maybe it feels like we’re sitting under a slot machine that just hit jackpot (an unexpected divorce or change in job). Without every bit of change that we accumulate, we wouldn’t end up with the wealth that we can have.

And yet…most of us…(maybe myself more than most)…Lord, do we fight change.

That’s where I’ve been at. At the root of all of my anxiety is the fact that everything is changing.

I felt at the top of my world back around the beginning of October. Things were going great. I had stresses…and a slightly dented heart due to my own stupidity lol…but, life was good. I had a career that was growing…I had grades I was proud of…I had this group of friends that I thought nothing could EVER change…I had found my place with a group of ladies who love fitness as much as I do and I felt like I was accepted and a part of something bigger…I was in the best shape of my life doing things the doctors said were impossible and proving to myself and the world what I was capable of.

Slowly, at first, and then more dramatically…that changed. Something happened at work that didn’t change my career, but drastically changed the environment of my career. Graduation suddenly loomed and I realized that I was going to have a giant hole there in my life that I don’t know yet how I will fill. I broke my leg and wasn’t able to work out. I holed up because I no longer felt like a part of the group. I no longer felt needed and wanted because I couldn’t do the things they could do. New people came into my group of friends…amazing and wonderful new people who add to everyone’s lives…but new people that were there when I couldn’t be. I watched the bonds form and the dynamics change (as they do)…all from the outside. I felt helpless and alone. But then I thought I had a chance to get back…and then the heart stuff happened. It’s not the end of the world, it won’t kill me (unless I keep being a dumbass and do something dumb like passing out in front of a moving vehicle). But it sure changes everything. There are things I can’t do now. There are things I shouldn’t do now. Some of these are things I did with my friends…things that now they can continue doing…within those newly formed bonds…

Suffice it to say…I spend a lot of time feeling like I’m under that slot machine and change is falling all over me. I have had no control over it falling…I don’t know when it will stop falling…and, I swear to God, if one more quarter lands in my eye I’m going to start throwing them at people! lol

So, that was the first thing on my list. But I struck through it…as my brain was forced to see the other side of that anxiety.

Everything is changing. Maybe…it’s supposed to.

That second thought was immediate as I wrote down the first. One of those moments where I know that God is speaking to me because I’m FINALLY in a state where I’m ready to listen.

Maybe everything is SUPPOSED to change.

Why? Well…let’s look at the other side of these quarters.

The situation in my career caused me to stand up for myself in ways that I didn’t know I was capable of. It forced me to look at my career…admit to myself what I was capable of…and decide what I was and was not willing to stand for on the path of my career. This change made me grow in a way that I had not yet grown in my 40+ years of life.

The looming graduation and the fear of that “free time”…OK. This quarter is a little tougher because I’m not there yet, but it HAS pushed me to revisit other hobbies that I love and that bring me peace. I’m hopeful that I will continue to see that I am more than a student…and I’m embracing the fact that this will give me the chance to see if my years of “finding my confidence through academics” worked and if I really have grown in my ability to love and accept myself.

The feeling that I’ve lost my place and purpose in the fitness group…pushed me to accept when they offered me an opportunity to lead through teaching (I would have been terrified of that before). It showed me who really does care for me and not just for my abilities. It showed me that some people really do love ME and support me always. It also showed me that some people are only meant to be in the fitness side of my life. And. That. Is. Ok. It showed me that my place in this group isn’t just about fitness…in a very strange sense, at the same time as it was showing me where I don’t currently belong, it was showing me where I belong more than I ever imagined I could.

The new people…that’s a given. New friends are a great thing. As introverted and shy as I am, even I know that the best parts of my life are the people in it. I have more of those people now. And the changing dynamics…Honestly, I continue to struggle with this one. BUT this change has also further cemented some of those friendships (and they were already pretty dang rock solid cement). And even those that may have diminished very slightly…it showed me that they are still solid and those friends genuinely do love me even if sometimes our paths go in slightly different ways.

The heart…is forcing me to slow down. That is a very difficult thing for me to do, but it’s been necessary for a very long time. Everyone likes to tease me that I go 90 miles an hour or I’m the Energizer Bunny. I fill my time so that I’m moving nonstop. Sometimes out of necessity…sometimes out of fear. If I’m always moving, I’ll always have purpose…and I won’t have too much time to think. By being forced to slow down, I’m being forced to face that fear. Turns out life continues when I slow down. I still have purpose. I still have normal moments of both happiness and sadness…joy and strife. I just have it all with a little less exhaustion.

So…ALLLLLLLLLLLL of this change…flooding down on my head and smacking me in the face…is accumulating…

It’s accumulating into the life I’m supposed to have and have always wanted.

A life full of relationships and fun…career success and adventure…interests, hobbies, friendships and joy.

And I can’t get to that full extent of wealth without the change that is supposed to happen.

So, today I go forth. I stop trying to get rid of pennies and nickles just because they seem like useless change that is only going to weigh me down. I let the change accumulate and…

I patiently wait for the accumulation of change to turn into the fortune that God has planned for me.

And in my moments of fear and doubt, I will look towards that plan and pray a special prayer that I wrote for moments like these.

“Dear Lord, please allow me to hear your voice louder than the voice of my hopes, and allow me to hear the voice of my hopes louder than the voice of my fears.”

Warning: Shit’s about to get real up in here. Lol

Everyone knows I’ve been having blackouts from POTS. The thing is, although each one has been scary… each one has also fueled me further in a, “the fuck you *will* take my life from me” capacity. Each one has pushed me further in my drive to not give up. Until today.

Today was THE Blackout.

(Quick segue; As I’m writing this, Walk Like an Egyptian came on. 🎵 They’re falling down like a Domino🎵 I feel attacked. 😆😆)

Anyway…THE BLACKOUT...

I was going to meet my friends for a run this morning. Like I do. I got there 30 minutes early to get in a little solo run time. Like I sometimes do. I set up my training program. Like I do. (Noticing anything yet? Everything like I do…because I will not succumb to this illness…) I gave it my all (like I do…) for what was supposed to be a 15 minute training run.

And then everything changed.

Around minute 14…things started swimming. I only had one minute left…I couldn’t bring myself to give up…I kept pushing. It was like running through molasses. Everything was slow motion…my legs felt like cinder blocks. I have never felt a minute take so long. I felt my watch indicate that my run was done…and I sat on a curb…right as everything went black.

Honestly, that still probably wouldn’t have stopped my stubborn ass. But the rest has me thinking that things as I know them are over.

As I sat there (I honestly have no idea how long…no longer than 5 minutes, I’d guess)…as things eventually started to come into focus…I saw my friends start to arrive. It was like watching a movie. I could see them all driving by where I was…no one could see me. No one knew I was down for the count. I couldn’t get up to go to them. The world was still too topsy turvy. So I sat there. Watching each one arrive. I finally managed to find my feet, but not my head. So, like a slo-mo scene, I walked towards where we park. And I saw my friends starting off on their run. I knew they figured I was just being my stubborn self and that they’d find me…but all I could see was them running away…as I watched…unable to even think clearly, much less be a part of them. And it clicked…this is my future. Slowly watching people keep going without me…sitting alone where no one can even see I need help because I’ve spent so much of my life telling everyone I don’t.

So, once I got my bearings, I left. Shortly thereafter one of my best friends texted me that they were looking for me, as I’d suspected, but…it hasn’t changed the tears and the fears.

This wasn’t just a blackout. This was THE Blackout. The one that’s got to change everything because I’m on my way to collapsing on the side of a road…alone…with no one to even notice or care.

And that’s where I’m at this morning.

A little more broken. A little more scared. A little more alone.

And not understanding why this had to happen when 6 months ago I was in the best shape of my life.

I just don’t understand and all I can do is pray to God for support, strength, understanding, wisdom, grace…and help.