Back At Home

Just haven't felt the inspiration to write. The trip was lovely, although we did have a few rough spots. I'll explain more later on.

Wagons West!

We're leaving tomorrow for a six day trip to Denver. We're driving 15+ hours in one day. Yes, I know it's psycho, dangerous, and just plain dumbth, but we do not have enough money to fly all of us out. I'm sure you're asking yourself why we are going then, but we're actually not paying for most of it. Confused yet? Let me 'splain!

My husband is going to the AACR (American Association for Cancer Research) in Denver. The university pays for the registration, the hotel stay, meals, and transportation, but that is only IF he went by himself. Being the good husband that he is, however, he did not want to leave us at home by ourselves for a week. So a deal was struck, and the university will pay for the registration to the conference, half of our hotel fare, and pay us for mileage driven. We have enough money to cover what they don't, but definitely NOT enough to try and find airfare for the hubs, the boy, the dog, and myself.

And I don't like flying. Anyway...

So yes, a week in Denver. Not sure what is out there, but I managed to cop a room two blocks away from the children's museum. Let's just hope the room doesn't suck.

Sorrow...

My blog will be purple until sometime tomorrow.

Goodbye, sweet little Maddie. I did not know you or your family, but your story has touched my heart.

This shouldn't have happened. She was so young, so beautiful.

Finally!

After two months of poking about, making excuses, and generally being a sloth, the WHOLE condo is finally (FINALLY!) clean...and I am freakin' exhausted. My wonderful husband put up with me yesterday, and helped out a LOT by cleaning the bathrooms and sweeping, AND keeping our kidlet occupied whilst I played cleaning fairy in the main room. It was hard work, and quite awful (hello, caked up crap on the stove), but everything is semi-sparkly, and I feel a sense of accomplishment.

This has been building up for a while. When the anxiety came back, I just went into, "I don't give a damn" mode, and the house got horrible looking. There wasn't weird things growing out of anywhere, but the floors had a nice coating of dust and whatnot all around, the stove looked horrible, the stainless steel was fingerprinted, pancake batter was on a cabinet door from three months ago, and the sink was always piled up with funky smelling dishes. The dust bunnies were turning into angora fur bunnies. My dog's scrounging of crumbs was the only real cleaning the floor saw. That did change though, and I'm hoping I can keep it like that, mainly because I hate six hour cleaning days (yeah, that's how long it took me, and our place isn't that big), but also because it shows that I'm getting better.

Yes, I said "getting better". Each day I can feel myself improving a bit more. For the past two days, I've walked the dog in the mornings. I've been keeping a tighter rein on what I eat, and I'm trying to get plenty of liquids in me, along with my host of vitamins. I still need to get my medication adjusted and get a refill of Xanax, but I've found that most things don't bother me anymore. There are still days when I worry and fret over nothing (like yesterday....my goodness, I'm surprised my husband didn't smack me one), but they are starting to disappear. You might attribute it to my medication and my psychologist (who is crazy awesome), but I want to go one better and thank the good Lord for His help....

Note: past this point is where I talk about religion, so if you don't go that route, you can stop here.

I've written a few sentences here and there about my faith crisis. It has had me in a headlock for a while now. I've read so many different religious websites that it's ridiculous. I've perused the Bible (and have a quote of the day thing up on my blog....the Bible has awesome inspirational quotes, I think), I've read up on different religions, but I've always been drawn back to Christianity. Maybe it was because I was raised Catholic. Anywho, one night, after talking to some friends about faith, I started praying. I poured out my woes (silently, of course...don't wanna scare my family), cried a lot, and left it at that. I can't say I felt instant peace, but as the weeks have gone on, and I've more or less continued praying each night, I have felt my worries slip away.

I don't ask for instant relief for my problems. I know that isn't possible. Instead, I pray for strength and wisdom to conquer what is going on with me. I pray for people to realize how petty they are and start working together to solve the crises of the world. I pray that people will let go of their intolerance for other people who may be different. And I pray for those who are suffering throughout the world. It may not seem like much, but to me it makes a great deal of difference.

Look, I'll never be a religious scholar and I know I'll never be smart enough to debate people who look down on religion. I know this. I also know because of this lack of smarts, I will be mocked when it comes out that I am leaning heavily on Christianity. I know all religions are pretty much mocked nowadays, be they Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Hinduism.....you get my point. For the life of me though, I cannot understand WHY people just can't get along. So I'm Christian and you're an Atheist. Great, fine. Let's respectfully trade info on our beliefs or lack of them. Let's debate in a friendly manner the merits of Islam vs. Judaism. At the end of it all, let's agree to disagree and work on making a better world.

I am also well aware of how some Christians act un-Christlike. It breaks my heart to know that people are using Jesus Christ to condemn homosexuals, shun minorities, harass Atheists/Nonbelievers, and make a crap load of money doing so. I have seen it in many places and can sort of understand why some people have no respect for religion, because it's always the loudest, most outlandish people who come forward and represent Christianity. At the same time, I don't like the fact that hardcore Atheists mock people of faith and proclaim that they are without intelligence because they believe in a higher power. I could have sworn we were all adults in this matter and didn't have to resort to name calling. But I digress...

So yes. I think I am a Christian. I believe in God, I believe in Jesus Christ. I believe that someday I will see Him/Them, unless I am unfit to be in Their presence. I hope you don't have a problem with my beliefs. I'm not out to convert anybody. I just want to live my life and be at peace.

Four Months....

Note: On the advice of my psychologist, I am writing this letter to my grandmother.

Dear Grandma,

Today marked four months since you died. I have tried desperately not to use you as an excuse or a crutch for my problems, but I can't deny that your death has left me pretty lost. Although we had grown apart in the past ten years, you were still my grandmother. You were the one who taught me to bake, who taught me how to do different craft projects. You were the one who watched us when we were younger, who told us awesome stories about your childhood and the gangster who saved your family from starvation. You were the one who tucked us into bed for naps or when we spent the night with you and Grandpa. You were the one who made camping trips fun, even when you were hot and tired and cranky.

I know that some people in our family think they are the only ones that hurt because you died, but they are so very wrong. I have always had to be the one to be strong for everyone else, and I can't do that anymore. I just want to collapse into a heap and mourn you. Yes, I do know that S.... was closer to you than I was, but I always felt like you had more faith in me. I don't know why, maybe it's just my mind playing tricks on me. My memory has never been very good.

Grandma, I need to apologize a million times over. I wish you could hear this. I don't know if you can, because I've lost all faith in everything and I don't know if I'll ever get it back. You'd probably kick my ass because you were a devout Catholic and taught me all the stuff. By the way, I still have the religious stuff you gave me. I still have the pretty pin that was your mom's. I can't wear it for fear that it will get broken. But I digress.....

I'm sorry, Grandma. I should have been there. I should have visited you more. I should have brought the boy to see you more. I should have done so many things different, and I didn't. I can never forgive myself for that. All you wanted was to see your firstborn great-grandbaby, and I couldn't even bring my miserable self to make an effort to see you. I really hate myself for that, and now, because of my selfishness, the boy will only have vague memories of an older lady trying to hug and kiss him.

You would have been 81 years old in two days. That wasn't old at all, considering how spry you used to be and how many things you did.

I'm sorry.

Love,
Jess