The one with surviving Romania (and therapy)

Before I moved back to KC, I saw a counselor twice. This was major for me. I always had this thought that people should be able to figure out their own problems and not need to lay on a couch and be analyzed. I knew that I needed help, however, and sought it in the form of a therapist. Even after I made the move back home, I continued to seek guidance. 

I was skeptical of visiting with a therapist at first, but I quickly learned to trust and appreciate whom I was sharing so much with. My first therapy appointment was four months ago. I have come a mighty long way since then. At that first appointment I was trapped under a lot of weights and was so uncertain of absolutely everything. Through talking out different situations and feelings with an unbiased individual, I have been able to gain a different perspective, I have learned things about myself, I have learned new values, and I am learning that my situation is not the end but simply an unplanned stop.

My divorce is a chance to see the beauty and feel the heat of Romania. No, I’m not going to Romania. Imagine being on a bus traveling through Europe. The language is confusing and you are having trouble making sense of your surroundings. Suddenly you can no longer stand the ruckus and you get off the bus. You find yourself in Romania. There is poverty all around. It is unbelievably hot. You venture around and although you are disoriented and nauseous you eventually learn to love and appreciate your unplanned stop because it has given you a chance to see life differently. Romania is not your final destination. It is a detour. You get back on the bus and are anxious to see where your next stop will be. Whether planned or unplanned you take with you what you learned while in Romania.

Having experienced my own Romania I am now slowly walking back towards the bus. I am reluctant at times, but then I remind myself that I have choices, I have a life, and I intend to make it as pleasant as possible.

Today’s therapy session was my last, for a while anyway. I generally feel pretty great about life and am attempting to be optimistic. I continue to make choices and find happiness in them. After therapy I went to Target (I should have taken Mallory Flippin with me…). While there I found season 4 of the TV show Psych for $9.99. To celebrate life and feeling accomplished, I totally bought it up. What a deal.

Here’s to surviving Romania and forging my way through another unknown prejudice that I carried, therapy.

The one with Awakening My Soul

Mumford & Sons

Awake My Soul

How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes
I struggle to find any truth in your lies
And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know
This weakness I feel I must finally show

Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all
But lend me your heart and I'll just let you fall
Lend me your eyes I can change what you see
But your soul you must keep, totally free
Har har, har har, har har, har har

Awake my soul
Awake my soul

How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes
I struggle to find any truth in your lives
And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know
My weakness I feel I must finally show
Har har, har har, har har, har har

In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die
Where you invest your love, you invest your life
In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die
Where you invest your love, you invest your life

Awake my soul
Awake my soul
Awake my soul
For you were made to meet your maker
Awake my soul
Awake my soul
Awake my soul
For you were made to meet your maker
And you were made to meet your maker

The one with the first day of high school

Plinky suggested sharing a mass transit story. In light of students going back to school, I’ll share a story about my first day of high school.

It was the first morning after summer, so of course I was tired. I trekked up the “Killer Hill” to my bus stop. Kyle Arnold and I were the first two there. While we waited for the rest of our bus stop group to arrive, a ‘short bus’ stopped at our corner. Kyle and I looked at each other and without speaking we were able to communicate that neither of was getting on that bus for any reason. A few seconds later the bus rode on without us on it.

By this time, the rest of our bus stop group had arrived and we all silently waited for the bus. The next bus that came along was normal sized and we all got on. I remember it being very full and feeling like the others already seated looked smaller than me. I had to walk all the way to the back before I could find an empty seat. I took it and rode with my backpack in my lap. From my bus stop on we went the opposite direction of the high school, but I did not think much of it at the time. I thought that maybe the bus routes were just different in high school. Over the course of the next 10 minutes we only got nearer to the middle school campus.

It was not until we were actually pulling into a parking space at Bridger, the 8^th grade center, that I believed where we were headed. I ended up back in middle school on the first day of high school. I, along with the rest of my bus stop group, had to ride in the 8^th grade principal’s car to high school. We were late, we were embarrassed, and we tried so hard to forget. It is too good of a story, however, to have forgotten. 

Luckily, I got on the right bus when it was time to go home…

The one with the windows down

Tonight I drove home with my car windows down. It was totally refreshing to have the cool evening breeze rushing through while I listened to a completely relatable song.

Saturn's Light- Deb Talan

Saturn's light throws a ring around the moon

and I said my prayers too soon

No one was listening

There's a hush on the street

I can feel my own heart beat

and my lonesome breathing

but my soul's little bird can still sing

I want good love

I want it so bad

It's a seed stuck in my throat

It's a weed around my hope

it makes me choke and I can only breathe outside

or in tall buildings with high ceilings and open doors

Isn't there someone out there I am here for?

Isn't there someone out there I am here for?

It takes a will

just to make it through the night

when to wait and when to fight

and swing and missing

When we meet,

will his eyes recall me?

I look for his face

everywhere in the dark

and I carry my torch of bright stars

Because I want good love

I want it so bad

It's a seed stuck in my throat

It's a weed around my hope

it makes me choke

and I can only breathe outside

or in tall buildings with high ceilings and open doors

Isn't there someone out there I am here for?

Isn't there someone out there I am here for?

Couples kiss across counters and tables

I smile and then look at the wall

But some people hold hands

and they don't pay attention,

like their love

is somebody else's inventions

Our heads, they hold back

But our hearts run to strangers

and they say, 'Look at me, look at me, look at me.'

I want good love

I want it so bad

It's a seed stuck in my throat

It's a weed around my hope

it makes me choke

and I can only breathe outside

or in tall buildings with high ceilings and open doors

Isn't there someone out there I am here for?

Isn't there someone out there I am here for?

While driving and listening I thought back to a conversation I had once about the idea of living back around my family. I mentioned how I thought the idea of living close to my family seemed fun because I could see them regularly for fun, meals, outings, etc. The person I was talking to said, “Would you really see them though? I live in the same town as my family and hardly see them. It’s a nice thought, but would it actually happen…” I wholeheartedly answered that yes, it would happen. And now that I’m back my answer is definitely YES. I had cousins over Monday night and watched old home videos and tonight I had dinner with an aunt and cousin and did some ‘surprise’ birthday party planning for my mom.  Home is where I belong (at least for now). Although I have the love of my family I sing, “Isn’t there someone out there I am here for?”

The one with Obadiah

Three and a half years ago Obadiah became a big part of my little family. Her spunky personality was apparent from the very beginning. Her rock star hair and pretty purrs will be dearly missed. A few photos from our time together.

This was our first photo together. Darbi's there, too.

This was her first bath.

The first days...

She never did like her leash much, but I did.

In her fence. She eventually learned to climb over.

It was my favorite when she climbed on my hand like this.

It's not allowing me to post anymore pictures, but you get the point. Obi, you were a splendid fur baby.