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I’m Not Really Sure What I’m Trying To Say Or If I Even Have A Point So, I Guess It’s Like Anything Else I Write On Here

Obviously, I haven’t been as dedicated to my blog in the last year as I was for the first 4 years. And I’ve been trying to figure out why because I really miss it. I’m still writing but not on here very often. But the other week it hit me. It’s self-doubt, among some other things.

Yes, I may sound like a whiny bitch but when I came across some things last summer about people doubting I was ever pregnant with my son that I lost last year or if I’m even a mom at all what the fuckity fuck?!, that just put a bad taste in my mouth when it comes to writing on my blog and over sharing. I just felt like “fuck this”. I know I’m way too sensitive but it’s hard to accept that there are people like that out there. If I read something I don’t like on a blog, I move on and don’t rip that person to shreds. Especially since there are a billion other blogs to read.

No, not everyone has to love me or what I write but damn, I openly share these things about myself because not only do I feel better when I’m so open… it’s kind of like therapy, I know what it feels like to think you’re the only person out there who’s going through depression, anxiety, the what the fucks of parenting and motherhood, and figuring out what the hell is up with this husband guy I live with and his never ending snoring and grinding of his teeth and lack of talking or talking too much when I have that special one night a year to enjoy The Oscars and the butthead talks all the way through the ceremony and I want to punch him in the balls. Really, hubby? Really? You rarely talk as it is but talk nonstop the one time of year when I’d prefer your usual silence??

So, yeah. I used to think my blog was a safe haven in a way but since last year, I worry about anything I may write and what may possibly be picked apart elsewhere.

But I know I should say fuck it. This type of thing comes along with the territory although knowing there’s a site out there specifically to rip apart women bloggers is unsettling.

The grief I’ve been experiencing more and more from the loss of Ben has also had such an effect on my desire to write. His first birthday would have been June 4th and the closer that date comes, the harder it is to get my ass out of bed and somehow function as best as I can.

We also recently found out that while we have one more year in Maine, the owners are coming back this summer and we have just a few months to find a house, pack, and move by July. And since my husband will be retiring from the Navy next summer, we then have to move again to what we hope will be our permanent home somewhere on the west coast.

I’ve logged into my blog many times to write about each of these things but since knowing that whatever I write may be put under a microscope by others and judged, it sucks. And to be blunt, it’s very hurtful.

But then I think there may still be those who actually read what I write because they like it. At least I hope they do. And that’s exactly who I should put my focus on.

It’s so true how you can have people say 10 positive things about you but it’s the one negative thing that will be what sticks out in your mind.

I need to stop thinking about those who will always have negative things to say or may hate read my blog.

I need to go back to writing the way I used to. Writing without having all of this self-doubt about how others will perceive it.

Fun little fact… I took an Ambien an hour ago so if this doesn’t make a smidgen of sense, there you go!

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1 Year

It’s been a year since we lost Ben. He would have been 9 months old. I find it hard not to think about how life would be if he was in it.

He would have an adoring older sister who would give him plenty of attention, love, and lots of kisses.

He would be crawling and using one of the cats as a chew toy.

He would have that adorably adorable drool dripping smile.

He would have irresistible chubby baby legs.

For the longest time I was internalizing the grief. But last week I started thinking about him and just sat where I had been standing and was crying for the longest time.

Even though we were supposed to box these up months ago, his clothes are still in my bottom dresser drawer. His crib bedding and swaddling blankets are still in the office closet.

My head is telling me it’s time to accept it and put away his things.

My heart is telling me it’s not ready.

*Just Breathe

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And Why Is This A Problem?!

So, I get stuck with depression, anxiety, panic attacks, social anxiety, and seasonal affective disorder.

But these women get stuck with too many orgasms, most which don’t require sex.

I was flipping through the channels the other night and came hahaha across this show.

Really, now? Really?!

Just think of all the money you would save on Ben and Jerry’s ice cream to get a similar effect.


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Thank You

I’ve been having a really tough week with depression and even though you may not know it, I wanted to say how much I thank you, all of you, who reads my nonsensical writing.

Taking the time out in your busy day to read my blog is something I greatly appreciate, more than I can put into words.

For the past 4 years, you have helped me deal with issues just by me being able to write about them and I hope in some small way, I have helped at least someone out there by being so honest with my feelings.

I know so well what it’s like to feel alone… different from others. So, the thought of possibly having even one person feel more “normal” helps me. Needless to say, I don’t like to sugarcoat things for that reason.

If you ever feel even the tiniest inclination to reach out to me for any reason, to vent or just write to feel better, ANY REASON at all, whether or not we are strangers, please don’t hesitate to email me….

I’ll be there to listen. If it takes me time to answer, know that I’m crazy busy or scatterbrained… as usual.

So, in my usual long-winded way, THANK YOU! <3

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I’m Finally Ready

Well, as ready as one can be after losing a child.

After we lost Ben, it took some time to receive his ashes. When we finally got them, we quietly decided that the best thing to do at the time was to lock them in our safe.

While we didn’t speak the words, I think it was mostly because we weren’t ready to accept it. So there his ashes sat, locked away along with our feelings about such a tremendous loss.

Recently, I felt it was time to take them out. Time to slowly face what happened, as difficult as it is.

The loss is too great and I still can’t seem to find the words to express my grief.

The pain comes in waves and I think the reason that it happens that way is because if grief came all at once, it would be too overwhelming to handle.

Too heartbreaking.

So much more heartbreaking and devastating than it already is when dealing with this grief every day.

But I’m finally ready to take this first step.

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This week has been really rough. Baby Ben was supposed to be due this week. We lost him back in mid-March when I was 28 weeks pregnant. We had already lost him before he was born but we were able to see him afterwards.

We also got his prints which I haven’t looked at again until this week. I thought I would be able to handle setting out his ashes in the urn but when we received them, we locked them up in the safe.

The little hummingbird has been telling me lately that she really misses the baby that was in my belly. She often asks if I’m going to have another baby and the answer is I really hope so.

I have absolutely no idea when we’re going to try again but at the same time, I’m no spring chicken and don’t have a lot of time to wait. I’m also scared as hell when it comes to getting pregnant again.

I know I’ll be very happy if we just have our beautiful 5 year-old but I have made plenty of room in my heart for another child and I hope that gets filled.

*No Need To Argue

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For the first time, we have a house that makes me feel like a grown up. But what if I don’t want to grow up? I DON’T WANNA DO IT! Well, maybe I do.

house-11It was such a huge challenge trying to find a house in Maine during the summer. When we found our new house, we drove by it the day before we had the appointment to see it and I’m pretty sure I said “Holy fucking fuck! The house is AMAZING!!”

We could never get a house like this in California but the house here was nearly half the rent we were paying in military housing in CA.

I instantly fell in love with it. We were under so much pressure to find a house but I knew this one was the house. There are definitely house quirks we still haven’t gotten used to yet but I never even dreamed we could live in such a beautiful home.

It also comes with some anxiety since this is our first official grown-up house. The yard is huge and takes my husband over 2 hours to mow it once a week. I also find it funny that he’s now become a little obsessed with the length of our grass. Ha!

He has nearly 2 acres to mow, not an easy thing. We also have to worry about a generator, our water well, adding softener to the well water every 3 weeks, dealing with snow removal in our driveway, since it will be too big of a job do it ourselves, and the list goes on. Normally the places we’ve lived over the years didn’t require much work for the upkeep so it’s an adjustment.

We still have boxes lying around that we haven’t unpacked yet and the house is such a mess so it will be a little longer before we actually settle in.

For the first time since being here, I actually had a “it’s all good, we’ll do just fine here” moment last week. The hummingbird was playing on the tire swing while my husband and I were pushing her and I thought while the moment was so simple, it was the turning point for me to stop bitching so much about the move to Maine and how out of place I feel right now.



It made me see that my daughter is so happy here and the way of life is different here than in California. Not better or worse, just different… a slower pace and more laid back.

It’s something I’m still getting used to but I’m finally accepting that we’ll be here for the next 3 years. There are things that still leave me saying WTF? Like when I was on my way to pick the hummingbird up from preschool and got stuck behind a tractor on the highway.

Never really had that issue before. Haha!

Still feeling depressed because of the loss I had. I was making plans for a new baby that would be coming into this house next year so that’s been difficult to deal with.

But I see what a selfish bitch I’ve been because I see how happy my daughter is, which is the biggest priority, since starting school and playing regularly with the other kids in the neighborhood. Another thing she didn’t have in California.

I do feel a little lost though. My husband has his job, my daughter has preschool and will start kindergarten next year, but what the hell am I going to do here? We’ll besides writing, which reminds me. I found a screenwriting class here that starts in a few weeks and I’m so fucking excited. I’ve dreamed of doing this since I was in my early 20’s so this class is long overdue.

But I really would like to find a job here. Don’t get me wrong, I feel like I work with all the writing I do for this little blog and a few others but I want a job that gets me out of the house. I would hope the job would require writing but right now, I don’t really care since I’m going a little stir crazy being outside the city and in more of a country environment.

I haven’t had a job in quite a while since I mostly did volunteer work in the other places we lived. I’m doing that here too, but the literacy tutor program doesn’t start until October.

Okay, now I’m just rambling nonsense. But yeah, I’m at the point where my daughter’s getting older and I’m feeling I need to get it together and have more outside interests before I become crazier for not having a life while we’re here.

So, I’m finally relaxing a little more and starting to enjoy our new life in Maine.

The backyard doesn't seem like a big deal until...

The backyard doesn’t seem like a big deal until…

... you go up closer to the trees and see headstones.

… you get up closer to the trees and see headstones.

Yes, there's a cemetary behind our backyard. It doesn't bother me until night time. Then it's just fucking creepy.

Yes, there’s a cemetery behind our backyard. It doesn’t bother me until night-time. Then it’s just fucking creepy.

I promise that if people start crawling out of their graves and start dancing to Thriller, I’ll film it and post it on you tube. My husband says I shouldn’t hold my breath but you just never know.

If the zombies actually do the Thriller dance, my ass is having front row seats on the deck.

If the zombies actually do the Thriller dance, my ass is having front row seats on the deck.

*Why the Thriller dance, of course.

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