Do Something

Back in 2010, the boys and I were going through a trauma.

It felt very, very dark and scary and sad and hurtful and overwhelming.

We had moved back into my mom's basement. 

I had changed the boys' school AGAIN.

I had been shoving everything into that symbolic closet my WHOLE life.

I was done.

I just wanted to go home, and I didn't mean Ridgemark Drive.

I meant home. To God.

To make matters even harder, I was assaulted during this trauma.

One day, after being at Lagoon all day with my boys, I texted my Miss Birdie and told her that I was planning to go home.

To me, in my very broken brain and heart, this seemed like the LOGICAL thing to do.

When people asked if I thought about my children during this decision, I was insulted.

OF COURSE I thought about my children. I thought about how much better they were going to be without me.

That is a sure sign of a broken human.

Miss Birdie threatened to call the authorities, which infuriated me.

I asked her if she had thought about how my children would react to that... not even considering the fact that her calling the authorities would be much LESS traumatizing than me killing myself.

Broken human.

I told her I would go to the hospital with my step-mom.

And I did.

I showed up, went to check-in and very matter-of-factly told them I wanted to die please.

They immediately went into trauma mode and put me in THE ROOM... 

The doctor came in.

I was NOT having it.

I told him that it was really none of his business, or anyone else's for that matter, if I wanted to die.

He told me, "Listen. We are not in the business of letting people kill themselves and we are not about to start today."
And walked out.

I was SO offended by his sass!

Broken human.

I was then given A LOT of drugs and slept for the next 36 hours.

Miss Birdie held true to her promise and sure as heck called Sandy Police and a social worker that she knew. They all showed up. I didn't like any of them. I didn't like anyone. I sure as heck didn't like Miss Birdie at the time. How dare she?!

Turns out, my medication needed to be changed.

Turns out I only weighed 104 pounds and had an eating disorder.

Turns out I was BROKEN.

I needed rest. I needed serious, one-on-one therapy. I needed to discover that I LOVE coloring. I needed to gain weight. I needed to start again.

Obviously this wasn't a "healing" moment, as I clearly needed a stroke to turn me around 8 years later, but it was a step.

Fast forward to this week.

A couple of months ago, I received a Facebook friend request.

I always go to the profile of the person because I've been friended by some not-so-healthy-for-me people.

If you're a guy, I sure as shiz am going to see if you are married.

If I don't know people that you know, I am not going to be hitting "confirm."

For some reason, I friended a girl that I didn't know at all.

I immediately started to see posts from her that were disturbing. She hates herself. She is ugly. She is fat. She is dumb. No one likes her. She is not likeable. She has four little kids, but isn't a good mom.

I privately messaged her and asked her who was telling her these things.

She replied that she was.

I told her to tell her voice to shut up.

I told her those things are not true and to stop.

I didn't see posts for a bit.

Then this week, I saw some pretty disturbing ones.

Tuesday and Wednesday, in particular, were bad.
She talked about dying.

She talked about not wanting to be alive anymore.
She talked about being done.

I know nothing about this girl.

I don't know where she lives. 

I don't know where she works.

I know nothing.

For a half-a-second I thought to myself, "Well, people who love her will surely see this and surely do something about it."

Then I thought about Miss Birdie.

Had she not done anything that night.

At that time.

In that moment.

I would not be here.

Period.

So, I did as much investigating as I could.
I think I found the city she lives in and I contacted that police department.
I gave them the link to her FB profile and told them that I was super concerned about her, but didn't know her and would appreciate if someone could contact her.

They responded that they would.

I have no idea what the outcome was or what it will be.

But I know this - when we are in a position to do something, we need to do it.

We might question ourselves.

We might think that we need to stay out of people's business.

We might think that someone else will take care of it.

We might think that there is nothing that we can possibly do.

We need to put those thoughts aside and do something anyways.

Here's why:
If Miss Birdie hadn't done what she did that night, I would never have experienced this:

JOY.

Laughter.

Happiness.

MY BOYS.

My babies.

Growth.

LIFE.

PS. 

I love my Miss Birdie so big.

She is in my kitchen cabinet and has been for about 13 years now.

She is one of those people that Heavenly Father knew I'd need.

He's never wrong.

Be that someone for someone.

Gettin' There

So, it was a verrrryyy long two weeks. I have never been out of work for that long. I was so, so sick. There were a couple of days that I was able to get out of the house, though... besides going to the hospital. On January 13, Eric came and got me and we went to a Jazz game. He was given tickets on the 20th row and he just knew we couldn't pass them up. He had pneumonia and my kidneys were trying to kill me, but it was really fun. We ate dinner, then hitched a ride with a guy on a ten-speed bike, pulling a buggy behind him. It was one of the funnest things I have ever done. I just sat and enjoyed being at the game, drinking Gatorade.

Last Friday, he called and told me he was getting me out of the house and it was time to eat real food. We went and got lunch, then he started driving south. I asked him where we were going and he said not to worry about it. We ended up at Farmington Station. I was able to walk around a little bit and get some fresh air. There were not many people there, so it was just fun to be out and about. I was so slow, but he is super patient with me so that was very, very helpful. It was just what I needed.

This is me this morning:

I am getting there. I am not as slow mentally and physically as I was. I am still drinking 100 ounces of cranberry juice a day, which is not my favorite but I'm doing it. I was able to go to the gym last night for the first time in weeks. Although I feel like I'm starting all over again, it was amazing to be back, trying and doing.

I made my babies dinner last night, which felt great. I am back at both jobs, and doing my best to do it all without over-doing it. Here's to no more infections that try to kill me!

Right in Front of Me

Rock says to me often to stop looking beyond what is right in front of me. I told him yesterday that I just can't seem to find peace, that I have this constant heavy chest and I feel the weight of the world crushing me. If I have any talents, my greatest talent is seeking out the storms. I am a pretty amazing storm-chaser. I just love seeking out the storms - the big ones - the ones that kill dreams and shatter hearts. Trophy, please!

Last night, I went to the gym and worked my trash off. Then I thanked Heavenly Father for a strong body. When I got home, Jackson had waited for me to take Brothers to get Subway with our gift cards. Braxton was with Blake and Cole, but the three boys and I went. I looked at them and realized that all I need is right in front of me. My babies. My family. My co-workers. My amazing friends. The Gospel. I have it all already. I don't need approval from anyone or anything. I already have it from my Father in Heaven.

Rock and B-money made this frame for Colton from his Santa breakfast. That smile, though. And, date night. Oh, how I love date nights with my boys. They are funny, kind, generous, a little wild, and my everything.

Chaos

Gosh, I am struggling. I feel so unsettled, so chaotic. I feel unstable. I feel it not only emotionally and mentally and spiritually, but I also feel it physically. It's a constant battle between my heart and my mind. I feel literal pain, literal discomfort. My mind and my heart are never settled. It's like a little war going on inside of me and both sides are putting forth all of their toughest men and women, all of their largest battle weapons, and all of their time and energy to win for their team. What they have forgotten is that they are all on the same team - Team Heidi. At least they ought to be. But they aren't seeing it that way.

And then there is my environment, my surroundings. J is putting forth a full-waged war. He is not giving up, although I believe that happened the day our "relationship" started. On Saturday night, he called me 41 times in one hour. Crippling. The papers have been sent in again. Although, it is still a process. It's been a debilitating process, one that has taken every ounce of water left in my well - physically and emotionally and spiritually. Why is this so necessary? Why must the hurt continue? Why must the instability dominate?

Rock reminds me often that I am in control, that I make the choices. It doesn't feel like that is the case, though. I don't feel strong enough to do that. I don't feel like my feet are planted firmly enough to do that. I feel completely off-balance.

This morning on my way to work after a long night at the other work, I thought about the fact that we haven't watched one Christmas movie together. We haven't driven to see lights. We haven't made any homemade caramel corn. We have not done any service projects. We have just gone through the motions of this life - working, school, cleaning the house. It's all mundane. It's all necessary. It's all hard.

I am in a realm that is so unnerving. Dating is so hard. I sabotage every possible opportunity. I am so positive that I am going to be hurt, so I make that known and get out. Even if I haven't yet been hurt. Even if everything appears fine. I treat them like yo-yo's. Perhaps because that's how I have always been treated. I am not sure. But it's hard.

Last night I laid in bed and cried. Not sure of the exact reason. Maybe I am tired. Maybe I am stressed. Maybe I feel stretched thin. Maybe I am not doing everything in my power to have the Spirit with me at all times. I am sure that one is positively true. I must do better today than I did yesterday.

My sweet boys are amazing. Have I told you that lately? They are incredible species. They are so full of everything wonderful in this world. Oh, how I love them. Oh, how I smile just thinking about them. They are beautiful, funny, creative creatures. I don't want to do wrong by them.

Are we blessed? No question. Are we loved? I know that we are. I desire foundation, stability, and peace. I so desire for this chest pain to go away forever. It is a constant reminder that things are in turmoil and I can't find my comfortable spot inside of my mind and my heart. I am ready for them to make peace one with the other. Maybe today.

Learning

You know, throughout this life of mine I have had so many opportunities to learn. But I haven't taken them. I've tried so hard to hurry through the grief process. My way of doing that was to get right back into a situation that I had just gotten out of. That would make the pain from the last trial go away, I thought. I know that it sounds completely dysfunctional. That's because it is. Dysfunctional and sad and exhausting.

I have a team surrounding me that send me notes, quotes, directions, scriptures, thoughts, positive affirmation signs that I sit in front of my face at work, and so on. As I read them, and really read them I realize that it's okay to go all the way through the process. It's long and it's debilitating and it's scary and it's exhausting, but it's there for a reason. It's okay to be broken for now. In reality, I've been broken for 25 years. It's just that now I am allowing myself to be broken and to want to heal the right way.

I read yesterday that if we have to make ourselves smaller to fit into someone's life - we have no business being there. Oh! That is profound. For 25 years, I've been shrinking myself to be accepted into lives I had no business being in to begin with. No more. I need to stand tall. We all do.

The following quote is from Elizabeth Gilbert, sent to me by my Miss Sarah (whom I love and whom I could not do this life without):

Oh, souls — let us try not to worry so much, OK? It's so bad for our minds and our bodies and our spirits, and it's so bad for everyone around us, too. And when we get all bent-up and broken-up and fragmented from worry, we make it SO DIFFICULT for the universe to help show us our destinies.

The universe is wanting to communicate something with you. It wants to take you somewhere very specific (to your ultimate destiny, which is PEACE and wisdom and wholeness) but your worrying is a kind of crazy emotional static that prevents you from hearing the messages.

Have some faith. Have some faith in yourself, and have faith in fate, as well.

What if you remembered this: Everything you have ever endured so far in life, you have survived.

And sometimes, to your own surprise, you even thrived.

Maybe the worst thing you ever endured was a crucible through which you became YOU.

Maybe you could not have become YOU through any other means except by going through that trial.

Maybe a trial will happen again. Maybe a trial is happening right now. And maybe, once again, you will survive it. (All signs point to YES. After all, you have done it before.) Maybe you will come through these troubles re-formed, re-forged. re-born. Maybe you will insist upon that. Maybe that's the strange invitation at the bottom of all this anxiety.

You have seen your own strength. You have seen your own beauty. You have seen your own golden wings. Why do you worry?

What if your story is unfolding just as it was always planned?

Be brave, have faith. You can do this.

Rock Bottom

I received a call yesterday afternoon - a call that is every parent's worst nightmare. A girl had gone to the office at the junior high to let the assistant principal know that Braxton had sent her a text message that stated he planned to commit suicide last night. I immediately left work, calling Brandon to meet me at the house. It took Jackson and Brandon until about 5:30 to find Braxton. He was physically unharmed. Thank goodness. However, emotionally, spiritually, and mentally he is broken. As are Jackson and Kaydon. What they have been through has destroyed them and their ability to cope with the things that this life brings.

When I asked them why they haven't told me this, their simple answer was that they have been trying to protect me. The three oldest have all had plans to end their lives. My babies. My babies who are innocent, who did nothing but trust and love. My babies who are WORTH IT. My babies who are children of God. I cried with them last night. I told them they are worth it. I reminded them that they are children of Heavenly Father. They have each lost faith. They wonder why. So did I. They are literally broken.

I am waiting for a call from an intake coordinator from Davis Behavioral. My three oldest will be in counseling just as soon as I can schedule an appointment. I will join them. We will heal from this. From all of it. I have severed ties with Josh completely, including his sweet, beautiful children. I pray for them as well - that they will receive the help and support they will need as they grow older. But, my priority is on my babies. It is on my sweet boys, who are worth it.

What Makes Me Special?

So, let's be honest - the gang conference is traumatizing every year I go. It's absolutely terrifying the world that our children live in. The second class on the second day was a huge eye-opener for me. It was taught by a department director of a gang unit in Salt Lake County. She taught for two hours on girls in gangs. In fact, this is one of the pictures that was shown:

She taught about the different roles that they play in the gangs, how they get into gangs, what they do once they are in there, and why they join gangs. Something that she said hit me so hard. She said that even though the male gang members treat them like crap, use them, abuse them, rape them, sometimes kill them - those things make them feel "special." As soon as she said that, I looked at Rock and said, "That's me, isn't it?" He nodded his head.

If a guy "let" me pay his bills or "let" me buy him the things they wanted or "let" me take care of them or "let" me be the one they would call only when they needed something, then that meant that I was "special." That meant I was needed and wanted. That meant that I was good enough for them. How sad is that?!?! That is how I have been living my life. So what if they hurt me. So what if they never returned the favor, if it was only a give and give relationship on my part - never a give and take relationship. So what if I gave everything I had, literally, with no promise of any return. Because I was "allowed" to do that for them, I was special to someone.

It was a huge eye-opener for me. I was sad for a moment to realize that this is what I had become. But then it was enormously empowering! I realized what I had been doing and I was ready to shout from the rooftops that I am special just the way I am! I am worth it just the way I am. I don't have to live like that any longer. I am free to just be Heidi - who already has worth.

Like Magic

When we went to Nana and Pops' house on Sunday, there was a new, beautifully framed picture above the piano. It was the picture of their sealing day at the Bountiful Temple. Pops is SO proud of this picture. Know why? It took him a lot of painstaking time to take someone out of the picture and make it look like he was never there. It's a beautiful picture. My mom is especially glad that Miss Brooklyn is in it. And, she should be. Brooklyn will always be part of us, even if we don't see her anymore. We love her so.

Also on Sunday night, I sent someone a text message. My children thought that is was, perhaps, a bit harsh. My parents didn't. They said that I said exactly what they were thinking. The text message read: "Hi J. I'm mailing the divorce papers tomorrow morning. I have to be honest and say that I'm disgusted that I am paying for a divorce you caused. Not to mention the last year of trying to put me and my kids' lives back together because of your lies, cheating, and complete dishonor. I would like to plead with you to stop ruining lives. You've hurt so many more people than you know. Unfortunately all that you care about is you. Stop teaching your children to lie and to be like you. The fact that you're teaching your daughter to lie about who she is with is heartbreaking. You're teaching her to lie just like her dad. I have no doubt that you have plenty of mistresses that you are living a fantasy life with. Your addiction to women, attention, and your own wants is something I'll never understand. I used to believe that the fact I paid your bills, paid for everything actually, loved your children like my own, worked two jobs so you could coach, took care of everything made me special. News alert: I'm special and worth it just by being me. If you have any shred of honor at all, you'll step up and figure stuff out. You'll pay be back for this divorce so I can buy groceries. How lucky are you that you can choose to not work at a second job? Living with your dad, behaving like your sister. Some of us single parents have to work two jobs because no one else is going to step in and pay rent, utilities, and give me a car to drive. I'm relatively certain no one will ever love your children the way I did. But you don't care. It's all about you, not them. Goodbye."

I want to focus on the part about my definition of "special." I'll blog about that tomorrow.

You Never Know

Saturday was a Heidi Day. I went to the gym, then went to the movies in my gym clothes. I bought myself a large bucket of extra buttered popcorn and found my seat. I had been wanting to see "Sully," with Tom Hanks. I remember the news clips about the "Miracle on the Hudson." So, that was the movie I chose. I was completely shocked by what actually happened.

In my ignorance, I had no idea that Chesley Sullenger was accused of doing anything but saving 155 lives. I had no idea that he had to stay in New York until decisions were made on his future as a pilot, and on whether or not he would be held responsible for the airplane landing in the Hudson River. I, like many people, had always believed that he was a skilled, experienced hero - one who did everything he could to save every single life on that plane on that freezing-cold day.

I was fascinated by the interrogations of Pilot Sully. I was fascinated by the questions they asked him and the accusations that the panel made. Further, I learned some powerful lessons by listening to his responses to the questions and accusations. You see, Sully asked the panel to consider the "human factor" when making determinations. He asked the panel how many tries that pilots in the simulations had prior to making a safe landing on a freeway runway. (the answer was 17) In total, the pilots aboard that plane on that day had 208 seconds to act, react, and determine what they were going to do. That is less than four minutes to determine what to do with a fully loaded airplane in an enormously populated city that had lost both engines. Once the human factor was added in (by giving the pilots in the simulations 35 seconds less time to react), there was no where for them to go but in to several populated buildings in the city.

I thought a lot about that all weekend. The human factor. I have had several (more than I care to count) people tell me for a long time what I should have done. I have also had multiple (more than I care to count) times when I thought to myself what other people should have done different. The reality is that it is so easy for us to say what should have happened, what should have been done, what shouldn't have been done. In reality, I think that most of us do the best we can with what we have. We make the best decisions we can make in the time allotted. We do what we think is best in the moment. And, no one else has the right to make assumptions or judgments based on those choices.

Now, unfortunately our choices have the real possibility of hurting others. Mine have. Those are regrets I carry with me always. But, that was never my intention when making poor choices.

The reality of the situation on the Hudson River that day was that all 155 people aboard that plane survived and none were critically injured. Not one. Mr. Sullenger did everything in his power to ensure that would be the case. Not everyone liked the choice (mostly the insurance company), but no one can argue the fact that had he not done what he did in the way he did it on that day, lives would have been lost and damage would have been done. And that's a great story.

They'll Always Love Their Mama

Thursday, I had a bit of attitude. Strange, I know. I finally walked over to my boss's office and plopped down on my chair. I informed him that I was only in their for counseling. (He's totally used to this, by the way!) I told him I was angry. I was angry that I was paying for the divorce. I was angry that there is not going to be any discipline given by the Church. I was angry that life was just going to go on for him, while my children and I continue to try to recover from the last six years. He stopped me and said that he was sending me this article.

Then he said, "Heidi, why do you think he wants you back?" I answered that it was probably so that I could just continue to take care of everything. He said, "He wants what you have. Your boys are never, ever going to love him again. But they will always love their mama. So, when you feel like you don't want to go to the grocery store, or the park, or the post office, or the high school football game, or McDonalds because you're afraid he'll be there - you just remember that you'll always have the love of your boys. He'll never again have what you have." Somehow, that made me feel all better. Well, that combined with the article he sent me.

So, I put my big girl pants on and went on with my day. The anger went away. The bitterness went away. The frustration went away. And, I trekked on.

I Trust You

I have finally blocked someone from text and phone calls. I have finally emailed him all of the information he may need now that I am no longer taking care of everything. Now I just need to come up with the $340 to pay for the divorce that this someone won't. I'm not bitter. Just sad. Still.

There are times, especially when it's quiet, or when I'm driving, or when I'm laying in my bed, that I crave someone to love me. The way I have loved others. There are times when I crave having a partner to share the responsibility with, to share my day's funnies and not-so-funnies with. There are times when I cry, and other times when I tell myself to put on my big girl pants and just move on for crying out loud.

I had a talk with Heavenly Father last night. I do that a lot. Poor Guy. I ask for courage, strength, joy, comfort, peace, and the ability to do all that is required of me. I have began (finally) telling Him that I am totally up for His plan, for His path, for His will (mostly because mine always suck!). I am so ready to do what He wants me to do.

This morning, I opened a package from Miss Sarah - a journal and pencils. Last night, after I prayed, I watched President Uchdorf's talk last Saturday night. It's a beautiful talk. Just beautiful. I felt strongly that I need to write down my joys, my encouraging moments, my spiritual thoughts, my answers to prayers, etc. I'll use my new journal to do this. Then, I received a text from my Pam. She offered to take my family's pictures again next weekend. Oh, that brings me joy. Our last family pictures are beautiful - a treasure - but they were taken in the midst of such pain, such fatigue. We've gone nine months, or so. I can't wait for Fall pictures. I felt so happy when I saw her text. THEN, Miss Teresa sent me a picture of my Baby Victoria coloring. That baby girl, mixed with coloring = perfection.

Colton's Autism check-up was yesterday. As I drove all over the valley to get him, go to the appointment, feed him, drop him off, and go back to work, I thought about how I am so blessed. I am there with him. I am not missing out. My jobs are so supportive of me and my desire to be a mother FIRST. He is stable and is surrounded by AMAZING doctors and teachers and school administrators.

I trust Heavenly Father. Finally. I trust in HIS will, because mine is so blind. He sees more than I see. He knows more than I know. He loves me more than I could ever love myself. He knows what I need, what my boys need... If I do my part, the pain and the sadness and the hurt and the utter frustration will melt away. The blessings will continue to come. All will be well in the end.

It's Time

These boys of mine, though.

I have decided that it's time for this Mama to start counseling. We've almost been through an entire year since the world turned upside down for us. As I look back, I see how far we have come and how much we have had to overcome. I see that we have chosen joy most of the time and that we have truly done our best, which is all that is expected of us. But, there are parts of my story that I can't quite come to terms with. I struggle with not crying, not being angry, not being sad, not being hurt. I need to have help with moving completely forward, so I will do that. For me. For my boys. And, perhaps my boys will need to start the counseling, too. And that's okay. It's all okay. We are doing the best we can with what we've been given.

Be's

Some days are not joyful. Some days are hard...like really hard. Yesterday, I received an email from a teacher. She has two of my children in her class. She informed me that they cheated on a quiz. This mama does not deal with cheating very well. (Read over the last year of blog posts) I immediately called the children, who were at home. I informed them that this was completely unacceptable and that we would talk further when I arrived home. I don't think they were very excited for me to come home.

I prepared dinner, set the table and called the children in. I informed them that as they ate, I would speak and they would listen without interruption. And that is exactly what happened. I spoke to them about cheating, honesty and integrity. I reminded them that failing a class is acceptable as long as they hand in all of their work and do their best. What I will not ever tolerate is cheating and dishonesty. Afterwards, I read an article from President Hinckley from 1972, where he speaks directly to the Aaronic Priesthood. He reminds boys to be clean, be obedient, be prayerful, and be honest. He reminds them that they have the ministering of angels through the Aaronic Priesthood. I reminded them of the importance to be honorable.

As we were finishing up, someone knocked at the door. That usually irritates the heck out of me because the cute kids in the complex never stop knocking on the door. But this time it was the cute missionaries. They had a bag with root beer and ice cream and a card. If you know me AT ALL, you know that I DO NOT like surprises. AT ALL. Like, I still open my Christmas presents secretly early because I don't like surprises. I began to threaten the Elders to tell me who this was from. They wouldn't budge. Jackson started to tell me that I could be arrested for threatening. Whatever. I have no idea who this bag is from, but the gratitude that flowed through my heart was immense.

We are oh, so blessed. And, as President Hinckley promised decades ago, if we do what we are supposed to do, Heavenly Father will not forget us.

Stupid Wall

So, you know how you can be going along just fine, feeling great, feeling strong, in fact feeling amazing, like totally awesome-sauce - then BOOM. You hit the wall and blood splatters every where. And your parents pick you up and your little brother up and drive all the way to the hospital, to then realize that the newborn baby brother was left at home, so you have to turn around in your two-door Volkswagon Rabbit to get the newborn baby brother, just to turn back around to sew up the hole in your head from your little brother chasing you around the house...

Okay, so that is a true story - it happened when I was four, Brandon was three, and Logan had just sprouted from Mom's belly.

But it's also what has figuratively happened to me in the last week, or so. Here I have been going along just great (or so I thought), doing everything on my lists, keeping to the budget, cooking, cleaning, working, running all of the errands, setting up appointments, going to appointments, forgetting only a couple of the appointments, dealing with school stuff, working some more, setting goals, trying to come up with new traditions... then BOOM. I hit a wall. The only blood that has splattered is from my pinky toe, whose entire nail came off, but the tears that I have shed more than made up for the lack of splattered blood this time.

What is wrong with me?!?! Well, I'm sad. I'm hurt. I'm depressed sometimes. I have questions that may never be answered. I feel used and betrayed. (Both of which are accurate, FYI) I'm tired. Being emotionally broken is far more exhausting than being physically broken for me. The three back surgeries, heart surgery, hysterectomy, etc. were no match for the emotional exhaustion that I have felt in my life. No match.

I keep it together around people, and especially around my boys, but when I put myself to sleep at night, I cry until I finally go to dream land - which is only coming in spurts right now. I'm oh, so tired. When I'm busy, I'm better. When I'm working, I'm better. When I'm active with my babies, I'm better. When I'm alone, or quiet, or driving, I'm not better.

Rock came and took me to lunch today. I confided to him that I'm struggling. I asked him why? Why now? Why am I struggling now? Then I kind of answered my own question, with his help. I want for Josh to tell me everything I did wrong that made him go with other women and create another baby, all the while I was thinking we had a good marriage. You see, if he told me what I did to cause this then I wouldn't feel like my boys and I had been replaced. Feeling like someone replaced me and my children is oh, so painful. So, I just need him to tell me what I did wrong. But, he can't. He says, "nothing. I just made a big mistake." In my committed, loyal brain, that makes no sense. At all. Also, the last six years (really the last 20 years of failed relationships) have been a lie. I have been living a lie. I put soap in my kids' mouths for lying and grownups can just get away with it?? Like, it's nothing. Like, go ahead and live secret lives and there won't be a consequence for you, yet the other people involved will forever be affected by your stupidity.

See! I'm not okay, People! But, I will be. In no way is my testimony affected. Although, I have had some conversations with God lately that you could call real "whoppers." But, for crying out loud (and I do), move the freaking wall. Help me to know how to knock it down. I would love to take some sort of hard-hitting tool and just knock down some walls! I would also love to hit something else, but I won't go there!

This is what I know -- right now the wall is there and I need to get around it, go over it, knock it down... do something. I suppose walls are going to keep popping up along this path of life. I just want to be able to kick them down as soon as I see them. Patience never was a virtue of mine!

I'm Different

In a moment this morning where I was furiously texting, I had a thought. "I am different." I am not the same Heidi I was 30 years ago, 30 months ago, 30 days ago. I am different. I am not concerned with being in a relationship. At all. Ever again. I am different. I am independently raising my four boys, in a place of our own, with food and clothes and our basic needs. I am different. I am confident. I am confident in my budget. I am confident in my parenting. I am confident in my work ethic. I am confident in preparing food, doing housework, canning, and repairing minor things. I am different. I have a strong, abiding, solid testimony. I don't question if we are children of God. I don't question whether I should, or should not kneel and pray twice a day. I don't question whether I should read my scriptures every single night. I don't question whether I should pay my tithing and fast offerings. I don't question the blessings of the Sacrament and the Temple. I don't question that we have a living prophet. I don't question the power of the Priesthood, when the keys of it are held by honorable men. I am different.

Throughout my life, I have been outspoken at times. I have always lacked tact. But, something is different now. I have no qualms about speaking my mind, particularly when it is in defense of my children. They are my absolute priority. They are my everything. They are the reason I do everything I do. I am different.

I am so grateful that I am different. I am so grateful that I have finally allowed myself to be moldable. I am so grateful for the patience that Heavenly Father has with me. I am so grateful for those who love me, despite all of my imperfections. I am beyond blessed.

KK Time

Uncle Brandon picked KK up on Friday afternoon and spent some one-on-one time with him for a couple of days. They went to downtown Salt Lake - visited the Capital and art museums. Kaydon loved it! They went fishing and hung out.

In the midst of trying to keep it all together the last seven months, I have neglected to pay attention to the deteriorating emotions of my boys. Kaydon talked to me Thursday night when I got home. I immediately asked Brandon to come and administer to him, and he did. My boys have been through way too much in their short lives. It's all coming to a head now and it's time that we all get into some counseling. Sweet Kaydon has had some scary thoughts and I can't imagine losing my baby!

I am so thankful that he got some quality time with my sweet brother and sister!

Triggers

Rock thinks it's funny to come in each morning with the graffiti camera and take a picture of me. I have no clue he's doing it until I download the graffiti pictures and there I am. Here I am, very tired from a 17 hour work day the day before.

Remember how I told my sweet friend at work who is going through a horrible divorce that just because you have a bad day after lots of good days, that does not mean you are failing? And not to be hard on herself because everyone goes through these roller coasters - even if they aren't going through traumatic experiences? And how she is doing tons better than she thinks she is? I need to listen to myself right now.

Yesterday, one of my most solid supporters, someone who I have depended on and who has lifted me up over and over and over again said something that he thought was funny at the time, but that really wasn't funny at all - like not at all. About 2.5 seconds after he said it and saw the look on my face, he apologized over and over again. I walked away and he followed me with my favorite purple taffy, dropping it on my desk and apologizing for being "ignorant." I sat at my desk for a good hour, numb. There are just some things that sting. There are some phrases, some words, some innuendos that hurt - like a lot. Like a lot a lot.

99.9999% of the time, no one intentionally offends us or hurts us. That's the truth. When they do, we can cry a little or roll our eyes a little or chuckle a little - then we need to move forward! That's the part I need to learn - not to think about it over and over and over again.

This Life We Live

I am employee of the month again at Kohls. It's not too surprising because employees nominate employees and my second half of "Feisty and Sassy" nominated me. I love her. I nominated her last month, so I'm pretty sure she was just returning the favor.

ANYWHO! I was working last night, just like I work every Wednesday night. I was at customer service, helping the sweet, angelic Claudette. I call her, "Love," because she just exemplifies love. She looks like a porcelain doll and she is just so sincere and so kind. I had asked her a couple of weeks ago if she had any kids. I figured she was married. She said that she didn't have kids, but did have a dog and that counted in her mind. :)

Last night as we were working, she mentioned that "after her husband died..." I stopped the conversation because I was exasperated. She is the same age as me, if not younger. I said, "Love! I had no idea." She just kept right on talking. She mentioned that it is hard, but it's been five years and she sure wishes her dog would sleep with her to comfort her and how her other dogs used to be then they died... I was just in shock. I asked her if it was expected. She responded that it wasn't and then said, "This is what happened..." I couldn't take my eyes off of her as she proceeded to tell me the story of what happened. Her eyes are so stunning against her ivory skin and her arms just kept busy as she recounted those last days:

Her husband, who only ever called her "Babe," had a sinus infection. He got those a lot. They went to the doctor on a Thursday and got some antibiotics. On Friday, his ears were hurting really bad, so they went to the ENT. The ENT did a CAT scan, and several other tests and didn't see anything. He prescribed a different antibiotic, along with some pain medication. The pain medication made him very sick and he was throwing up. On Saturday, he slept most of the day, just not feeling well. Saturday night, he wasn't better so she took him to Insta Care. They just confirmed that he had a bad sinus infection and that he just needed rest. On Sunday, he was very lethargic and wasn't talking. She went in and laid next to him and asked him he wasn't talking to her because he was mad at her or if he wasn't talking to her because he couldn't. He could only mouth, "can't." At that point, she called 911 and his brother and father. He then went into convulsions. When he arrived at the hospital, they put him in a medically induced coma. On Sunday night, he went into brain surgery. He came out brain dead. He had an infection. At some point, a canal in his ear popped and the infection spread to his brain. There was nothing they could have done for him. Her husband was gone.

She said, "We were married for 17 years. He's been gone for five. He took good care of me and made sure he had life insurance so I wouldn't have to work. I don't think I'll ever date again because he was perfect. No one could ever live up to what he left for me in love."

How beautiful is that? Here I sit on the opposite spectrum of that, having a husband who left me but who left nothing for anyone to live up to. However, I have boys who tell me every single day, "You're doing great Mom. We love you Mom."

Two daughters of God. Pain. Sadness. Confusion. Frustration. Fear. JOY. COMFORT. RESILIENCE. STRENGTH. COURAGE. SMILES. LAUGHTER. LIVING. BREATHING. DOING.

Oh, what a life we live.

Being Brave

There is a sweet girl that I work with at my part-time job who is going through such a hard time! She has been married for almost 20 years, has two beautiful teenagers, and her spouse decided someone else was better for him. Isn't it odd how people think the grass will be greener on the other side? She didn't see it coming. At all. She is going through a lot of the same emotions I went through, and some that are unique to her. In a very strange way, I am so thankful that because of my own experience(s), I am able to listen to her and to offer (when asked) advice and suggestions that helped me and that I hope will help her.

I often times remind her that I have no doubt that she is doing better than she thinks she is. I can see that she is, but in her dark hole it doesn't feel like that. And that's ok. That is why we surround ourselves with people who CAN see that and who can carry us until we can walk on our own.

I remind her that this was HIS choice and does not reflect on her at all. She often asks "why?" Why would he do this? Why would he leave his family like this? I remind her that we may never know, but that the choice and the consequences are on him. I remind her that her pain will be for a short time compared to his.

I tell her that it is going to hurt for quite some time. I tell her that it's a myth that time makes it all better. Time changes how it feels, but it doesn't "heal" you like people tell you it will. I tell her that she will learn new ways, new traditions, new coping mechanisms, new things to avoid because they just hurt too much. I tell her that she will also discover just how strong she is. She will discover things about herself that will make her stand even taller.

I suggest that she tell her children that mommy is going to cry, and that's ok. I suggest that she tell her children that they, too, are going to cry and that's okay too. I suggest that she not put off counseling if she feels that counseling can help even a little bit. We are not meant to go through these enormous, weight-bearing trial on our own. We can't. I suggest to her that she allow those she trusts to love her, to hold her, to walk with her, to listen to her, to bring her meals, to help in whatever ways they offer.

I tell her that when she has a few good days and feels that everything is "better," to be prepared that bad days will still come and that this does not mean she has failed. This is real life for everyone - not just those going through life-altering challenges.

I remind her, and myself, that being brave does not mean that we are not scared or sad or mad. It means that we keep going in the right direction, despite the fact that we are hurting. It means that we keep doing our best, especially when doing our best is all we have left. It means that we recognize that we are strong because being strong is all we have left.

Dear Sis

Dear Sis,

Today I miss you. There is not a day that goes by that I don't think about you and wonder how tall you're getting, how long your hair is, or if your finger nails are painted. I wonder if you're singing new songs, drawing new pictures, watching new movies. I wonder if you're handwriting has changed and what numbers you are adding and subtracting. I wonder who you are eating lunch with and who you are playing with at recess.

Sis, I helped raise you for six years. I was your other mom for six years. You were my girl for six years. Then, just like that you weren't. I don't see you. I don't talk to you. I have no contact with you and it hurts. It makes me sad. I know that you have a great mom and great dads. I know that you are loved infinitely. But, today hurts.

The boys often say how they miss you as well. You were a part of us. You were our family. You were our daughter and our sister. Great Grandma Nef texted me last night and asked if it would be okay for her to send you a birthday card this year. I told her that it was of course be fine. We all miss you. Nana and Pops, Papa and Grandma, Aunts and Uncles. We love you. We always will. Part of my heart is gone. It's the part of my heart that you filled so perfectly.

Someday, I wonder if we can get a pedicure again, watch a movie together again, play a game together, read a book together, or just have me hold you and rock you again. I wonder if I can ever braid your hair again, watch you tie your shoes again. I wonder if I can ever have you "massage my shoulders" again. I wonder if I'll ever hold you again.

Until then, I'll love you forever and for eternity Sis.