Psycho Ex

One of the things he told me when he left me, "You were a good catch...." That phrase still rings and echoes in my mind, a steel trap, unrelenting. Bound and molded by a fear of ever facing that phrase again from yet another man. What made me not a good catch anymore? And then the rumors reach my ears...the things he tells his new-found friends and new found lover, the lover he'd worked with two years.

Looking back, I probably was a bit 'psycho.' I probably am still kind of, somewhat psycho. I know for sure now that I was and still am fighting depression. And here's the thing, I had a husband yet I felt completely and utterly alone. I re-read some of my journal entries the other night and realized I was in a dark, angry, bitter place. I was mad at God. I was mad at Dallace. I was mad at not being able to have more kids. I was drowning in self-loathing. I was just viciously, ferociously mad. I felt abandoned. 

And in my entries, I wrote about the distance I felt between he and I. I felt like he just wanted all my "issues" to just go away. That I was broken. And just like many broken, and unfixed trucks he had in his mom's backyard (the ones he just couldn't fix or "solve")...he gave up and left me out to rot and rust. He couldn't afford me emotionally. I had become without his mental means. If I refused to fix myself, he refused also. And while that fact leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, I can't blame him for jumping ship. There were times I wanted to jump ship. I tried to end my life a couple times and failed. There were nights I felt like I could just run away. Just jump into my car and drive and never stop driving until I reached the edge of the world and fell off. 

They'll giggle over dinner or over a six pack of beer how psycho I was or am. And repeat all the angry, foolish, crazy things I said once upon a time. But I make sure to remember the good with the bad. After Dallace's death, my parents went back to Germany and I honestly felt like I could lie down and die. The first night they were gone, I remember sleeping in his parent's house. All night long, I trembled, tossed, turned, cried, howled, gnashed my teeth and wept. And all night, he stayed by my side, awake and soothing. Crying with me. Those moments of compassion in the midst of my long road on Depression Lane made the difference and it's why I'm still alive. 

For years I had focused on so many bad things. For years, I learned to resent everyone around me because of the guilt I felt from my own actions. I took it out on everyone close to me. I'm only sorry he had to be one of those people. Some things you can endure. Some things you just can't. I pray he has some good memories. 

Stab Me

Please pardon me as I have sort of an intense night. I hold it together for the most part. Rather I hold it in by distracting myself with work, lil man, and the pursuit of happiness. All the while, that chronic, inescapable, lump in my heart and throat throbs with ferocity, yearning to rise to overcome me. On such nights as these, the tears come unbidden, unwanted and by surprise. And all I can do is let go and feel myself become helpless to the downpour. And all the things people say because they feel they need to say such things to me come slamming into my  mind and the tears keep pouring.

"It's a good thing you only had one! Imagine if you had three little ones and he left you??" While I agree in a way, it's a blessing I had all those miscarriages but some things...should just be left unsaid. The relief of a seemingly pleasant and convenient present does not take away the heartache or anguish of the past...especially a mother's heartache. I know single mothers who juggle life with three or more kids...I'm not any less capable, thank you. You might as well just stab me, saying these things to me.

"It's better that he left you....you're better off..." Thank you. Yes, I might be better off but he is still lil man's dad so the situation is more complicated than just getting over him and moving on. I still have to figure out how to work out this co-parenting without investing my feelings such as anger, bitterness, resentment, or the deep desire to beat the living day lights out of stupidity. Also, please consider that I ALWAYS consider my son's feelings in this SPLIT. He is most important...and so, it's not necessarily a "better off" situation. I'll work it out, however, despite your ignorant statements. You might as well stab me with such statements.

"You're a cold and calculating, woman. Maybe it was you..." Stab me, why don't you?

"You were a good catch...." Stab me and please make sure I die. 

"You'll find love...true love..." I suppose this phrase brings my heart the most anguish because I don't know how to feel about this phrase. Hopeful yet cynical? Positive yet stoic and unmoved? Faithful yet skeptical and doubtful? This phrase almost always makes me take a look at what's going on inside and I always come to recognize that I don't trust ANY men. I could if I just learned to let go...but it feels better biting down on the hurt, get acclimated and never go through any of it again...even LOVE, whatever that is. 

I cry and wish you could just stab me. 

Electric Run 2013...Illuminating!

Yay! I made it through another 5K! It was the Electric Run in Austin, Texas! And there are some cray-cray peeps in Austin, I tell ya! But it was sooooo much fun. I love the lights! I loved the costumes. We saw people with tutus, tiaras, bright, vivid colors, glow in the dark paint, glow sticks galore, wigs in all sorts of neon craziness, fake and real multi-colored mo-hawks, and just all sorts of shenanigans. There was even a guy who made his own robot head. Wish I had gotten a pic of it but it was quite impressive and heavy looking. But he ran with it!!! 

Anyway...here are some pics from Team La-ers!

Our fearless driver =)

actual, professional runner & personal trainer!

Car nap!

one word...LEGGINGS!

CUTE!

LA-ERS!

CUTE

We were wave 4! Took forever!!!!!

can you see me now?

illuminating!

yes! ready to go!

pumped!

So! I ran almost the whole way!! I sprinted up this one hill...and it just did a number on me. Briskly walked about half a mile trying to make the hurt go away. But found that I didn't feel it quite as much when I kept at a steady run. So note to self: don't sprint UP hills. Again the lights were dazzling, the music was raving, and I had so much fun! And the dance part-ay was a smashing good time! Let's do it again!!!!

Dating with Kids

I was going to make a video because I thought it would be quicker and easier. But as I pressed the record button and started, I realized I was way too tired ( it was apparent in the bags and dark circles under my eyes) to be making a video....so I'm typing it up instead. Sorry for those who don't like to read. I'll try to make this engaging with the words that dance across the screen.

So I have a lil experience that I'd like to share. Lil man and I were out shopping a couple days ago for some school things for him and picking up some medication for me. My son has a tendency to play games in the store, which is normal and expected from most five year old boys. So he's dashing in and out of clothes racks trying to scare the heebie jeebies out of me in true lil rascal boy fashion. I'm going along with it because I'd rather deal with this version of lil man than the crying, pleading, stomping feet version. He's hiding in one of the clothes racks as I carefully and meticulously calculate the cost of this pair of pants to the cost of that pair of pants. I happen to glance up and catch two guys walking towards me, smiling and one of the guys winked at me. Winking, in my opinion, should only be done between persons who are familiar with each other and have an inside joke. Otherwise, it's rather disconcerting...in my opinion, of course. The other one is wiggling his eyebrows at me. Seriously? These fools must be 19 year olds who look like dumb thirty year olds. That is the thought that ran through my head, initially.

"BOOOOO!!" lil man pops out of the clothes rack and of course, I give him the obligatory scream of shock and horror. He's giggling and I can see all his teeth with that grin I love the most. "Momma! Did I scare you?"

"Duuuude! You made me jump out of my socks, you were so scary!" I say this and right after I say this, the guys are about 5 feet away and I can hear the screech of their shoes on the floor. They came to a stop...only for a few seconds..and in those seconds I heard the taller one say to the other....

"Oh dang (*they used another word *)! She has a kid!" and right when the guy says this to his lil pal, they both veer to the right and scamper away, tails tucked under and heads ducked low. How's about that, eh? I was amazed and impressed by the blunt and frigid honesty of their actions. And it just reiterates to me, personally, that younger is not for me.

I wonder what people assume about me. Sometimes I get people who are like, "Are you the nanny?" Or I have had a woman ask me in particular, "How long have you been a nanny?" But then lil man is ALWAYS telling me, "Mom, you're my mom because we look like each other's faces..." I don't know it all amuses me and gives me a good chuckle.

So that's the experience for today's blog. Still doing good with the T25. Doing less modifications and getting stronger everywhere but mostly in the abdomen! I want a six pack! So yeah...

ALSO ELECTRIC RUN coming up this Friday 09/27!!! WOOT WOOT. I think I'm going to make my glow in the dark outfit BATMAN themed! What?! YESSSSSSSS!!!!!

Anywhosies! Happy life, my precious readers! Peace and blessings!

Good Sabbath

Today was a great Sunday. We had to get up earlier because we went to southside San Antonio to visit San Antonio 1st Ward...my old, home ward. The ward I grew up in...and it was quite a nostalgic day for me, walking through those halls. Each room I walked into, I could see wisps of long time ago yesterdays as memories washed over me. Little ghosts of the younger us running through those hallways, romping outside in the grass, dances and luaus in the gym, mom working in the primary with the little ones, young women mutual nights in the kitchen cake decorating or crafts and such. I was on the verge of tears in every room. And the ward is still filled with such sweet, humble members. New and old friends.

I loved the Spirit I felt in that chapel today. I loved the reunion; loved being able to talk to old friends and see their wonderful smiling faces again. It was just great to be "home." Made me think of Dallace. Made me think of my family. Made me reflect on the blessings I have as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. It's a great comfort to me to know that my family will continue...won't end after this life. Death is not the end....it only opens the opportunity to be immortal and to be immortal with the people I love the most and still keep them as my family. Whatever your beliefs....this is mine. And it is what makes me happiest at the end of the day. Dallace isn't that far away. And my family is never far away from me. Nor is my Heavenly Father. Families can be together forever...that phrase is the one phrase I've never forgotten and the only phrase that resonates deeply in my soul no matter what my spiritual state.

This is my truth...this is why I endure.

And with that, I bid you good night and hope everyone has a GREAT and FANTASTIC week!

Day one, two weeks, and three weeks

Bank Teller Cutie

Today I went to the bank again. Mr. Bank Teller Cutie was there. Today he was wearing glasses. And if anything makes a cute guy cuter, it's glasses. Well for me at least. Did I stare? A lil bit. I'm seriously like at the precipice of being a certified creeper. Yes bring on the weird-girl status. So the glasses were a little bit distracting. I mean, I assure you I was grinning like a fool and couldn't help the giggles on the inside. So he took the bank bag after a very giggly greeting from me and of course, the sweet, smiley greeting from his end. And it only takes a few moments to return but in those moments, I can feel myself battling to NOT look like I was looking for him or anxiously awaiting his return. I'm crazy. I know. But I'm also trying to build up the courage to just ask him already to lunch or something. It's just not happening. The frozen tongue. The glazed over eyes. The silly grin that is now petrified on my face, like a smiling, painted portrait starring at you with the same expression yet the eyes are following you eerily wherever you stand. Creeeeeepy!

But he comes back. And when he comes back, he puts his lips to the lil microphone and says: "Ma'am...what is your name?"

I'm surprised by the question and for one tiny second I almost forgot my name. But I recovered and I remembered in a sufficient time. He hears my name and I think I see a smile. Gosh! That smile.

And then he says, "Hi, Sabrina. Nice to meet you...." ah the formalities. And of course, I'm like very pleased to meet you. Now we're on a first name basis...but wait I need to know his name!!

"Oh wait! What's your name?" I blah and blurt out the question and it's clearly clear that it was an after-thought kind of question. Can I be more lame? He points to his nametag and there is his glorious name.

"Oh! Well again, nice to meet you, Mr. Bank Teller Cutie (names have been changed in this story except for those who matter...ME...to protect the identity of such persons), " as I say this, I am wondering if the grin on my face is as sweet as his and as attractive or if I, in reality, look like a smiling monkey. Such nerves, I tell ya. Yeah, flirting is not my line of business.

And then he says, "Well, Sabrina. I'll talk to you next time..." as if he's expecting me to come again or hoping I come again!!! How's about that! Oh yes...I got two lollipops again. BAM!

So no lunch rendezvous yet....or anything that exciting! BUT this is progress, right?? So yeah...if any of you gorgeous peeps have any tips or advice, please leave them so I can read them, ponder on them, and then never follow through with them because I'm better at being a creeper than an expert flirt. 

Created with PhotoShake for Android

Pursuit of Bank Guy

So trip to the bank today proved I am an embarrassment to women....okay, maybe not women. But an embarrassment of myself, at the least... I guess. Smiley bank guy was there, smiling as usual. Nice and cordial as usual. And sweet. And cuuuuuuute. And there weren't too many words exchanged but he did say WELCOME BACK when I got there. Does that mean he missed me? Because I hadn't been back for a couple days since the last time I was at ze bank. AND THEN! He gave me TWO...DOS...ZWEI lollipops! Does that mean anything or am I an idiot girl?

So of course I have to consult a male friend at work. With pleas of 'whatever shall I do?' His advice: You're glowing. You've been working out, losing weight, feeling better about yourself...just go for it. And I'm thinking he is absolutely right! Even if I do get rejected deneid turned down, I'd be putting myself out there at the least. And if things don't work out how I picture...no biggie. I would just never go back to that bank again. So there you go!

All easier said then done, though, right? So the plan? Go back a few more times...ask a few more questions...get to know him...and then drop a hint about getting together. Sounds good, right? LOLOLOLOL. Well...I'll keep ya updated those of you who have read this far and are now brimming with uncontrollable anticipation!

Also, check out what a case of hyper-active nerves does to me:

And that is the excitable happenings in Brina Bear's lil life! Keep smiling, my peeps! Ciao! 

Losing Weight and Inches!

So this is results from two weeks of clean eating and only like a week of Focus T25. Those 25 minutes of work outs are intense, demanding, and insane but I pushed myself and tried my hardest not to modify any of the moves. I've lost five pounds. I'm not starving and I'm feeling on top of the world. And that's just two weeks! What am I gonna feel like at the end of this 60 day challenge? MIGHTY AND MAGNIFICENT...that's what.

If anyone is interested in joining me and getting the same results, you can join me on Beach Body. That's where I'm keeping my motivation and holding myself accountable for the work outs AND the things I put in my body.

Anywho!! I'm going to start running regularly again....once I can carve out the time either early morning or late night for these runs since it's still hotter than hec in Texas.

Hope everyone is having a fabulous week! Happy running/working out, peeps!

The Race is On!

            5K Color Vibe Fun!!!!                         

We got there at 7am! Whew!

Alright so today Lil Man and I participated in the Color Vibe 5K!!! Soooo much fun! Lil Man especially loved running through the color stations! We didn't run the WHOLE thing but we ran enough to satisfy my running needs but not overwhelm my already sore and tight muscles. Loved the music. Loved the color stations. Loved all the brightness. We saw people in capes, multi-colored wigs, tutus, bare chested men (rawrs), the cutest lil girls in tutus, girls with wings and wild colored hair. It was a radical, good time!

There were plumes of color throughout and this is us afterwards!!

My friend, Rebecca, and Lil Man enjoying a lil rollin in the bright blue powder!

"Look, mom! I'm a bulldozer!"

He had a good time and was proud of his color "mustache" 

Don't know what this face was about...but I think someone was pretty tired =)

Yep...there goes the eye rubbin...either the powder was bothering him OR nap time!!

DUDE! I'm ready for another 5K!

Flirty Flirty....Or Maybe Not...

T25, School, and Flirty Flirtations

You Come Here Often?

Stooooooorrry time!!!!! I always rarely have these encounters. Normal encounters that wouldn't be so weird, I guess, if it weren't for my reaction. I mean, I'm a sociable person (well slightly awkward at times) but sometimes things just go over my head and I'm left feeling clueless and sometimes foolish. And by encounters, I mean run-ins with, you know, boys....men....the other gender.

So I'm standing in line at the grocery store. Yep. The grocery store. I'm putting my items on the belt. Lil man is making his high pitched, shrill noises and I'm trying to convince him that if he's more quiet, he can hear people's brain waves...it caught his attention for a while. So while he's pondering and listening, I'm putting the rest of the items up and out of the shopping cart.

"Excuse me, ma'am..." I hear a male voice behind me and I'm immediately annoyed at being addressed as ma'am. And when I'm perturbed I do things in slow motion. I turn around slowly, preparing my eyes for the amount of rolling I'd like to do and then I see the guy's face, and the eyes forget to roll.

"May you grab one of those little red baskets for me, please?" Oh my! He has manners. I'll let the ma'am slide this time.

"Yes, of course," I say in my phone voice. We all have that voice. The nice, polite, one octave higher (for females), and pretty voice. I kind of struggle with the baskets a little. The handles were all tangled and junks so it took a little maneuvering but of course, I pulled it off. I hand him the basket with my sweetest smile. I'm expecting a thank you at this point. This is what I get:

"Do you come here often?" and bless his heart...that smile was as endearing and charming as ever. And he had very nice teeth. And this is how I go with it....

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...." my head swings back as the boisterous roar of a laugh escapes me and rolls forward again, and I see him standing there just smiling, looking kind of confused. I realize that maybe I'm laughing way too hard for the situation and I try to get it under control.

"Oh well this is my grocery store...." I'm still giggling a bit. And he keeps talking about some other trivial things, makes one last joke which I can't remember, and tells me, "See ya around then, I hope..."

I just nod my head and let him walk off. I have not had enough experience with these kinds of things to know what I'm supposed to say or do, really. Especially when the phrase he used was something I'd only heard about and was more like urban legend. Guys really say this to girls in random places? 'Do you come here often?' I think I was stunned to the point of mind paralysis with a side of epileptic laughing. I was still musing about the ordeal when I hear the older lady in front of me say:

"He was tryin ta get yo numbah..." she chuckles, her belly rolling with her chuckles.

"What? No!! He could be a rapist...these days you just never know..." I shrug it off, smiling sheepishly. This woman had caught me in my awkward moment....how even more awkward. Yay....an audience.

"Mmmkay...it's good to be safe but you gon be lonely forevah..." she said, moving along with pity for me.

I almost responded with, "I don't see a ring on your fing-gah..." but I didn't because she was already on her way out and these days it's possible she isn't single and just living with her boyfriend who sent her out for wine, cheese, and grapes.

But yeah...I have got to work on my responses and wit. Aside from my awkward laugh, though, he was a pretty handsome looking guy. Too bad I am too much of an awkward chimpanzee to realize he was trying to get my contact info....but honestly, I don't think I would have given it anyway. Not a good idea. Total stranger and I'm sticking to the 'he might be a rapist' frame of mind

So that's ze story. I live an excitable life!

Sourness

WARNING: I'm in a hateful, ridiculously sour mood....... 

Monday's are always filled with sleepy murmurings of exhaustion, lack of sleep, and lack of motivation to get things done. Counterproductive thoughts lurk behind every good intention to get ahead and stay ahead. I don't know what is is about Mondays, but I do pity Monday; and yet, I, too could do without Mondays. Sorry, Monday. It's the truth. But I don't know what is about this day, there's always such negativity. All the relaxation and calm from the weekend is wasted and is almost as if the weekend were obsolete entirely. Should be a fresh start but no. It's a roller coaster collision with the ground from one hundred feet up. And today was just especially more rough with it being lil man's first day. Once again, crowds. Not that bad today but still, there were children, teachers, parents, grandparents, siblings, dogs milling around everywhere, talking all at once. And letting go of lil man today just tore my heart apart. When did he get so big? When did he grow so tall? Where is all his baby fat? And what happened to my resolve not to cry? So yeah, dealing with those emotions and then just the tension and negative vibes everywhere today!!! What a day indeed.

Ick....crowds...not my thang

And aside from all my mothering jitters and such....I felt like stabbing the world in the eye. Rude people on the phone. Rude people on the road. Rude people in traffic. Frown upon frown. Furrowed, angry eyebrows. Short, terse words. And soon, I found myself wearing such a sour, pouting face. Shortly thereafter I found myself detesting men. Detesting the men who sit under the tree right before you exit the gates at work. Just sitting there, ogling, whistling, cat-calling. Cat-calling---one of the most detestable forms of communication. Old men, young men, stupid men, ignorant men, educated men....all are susceptible to display such degradation of women. And as these thoughts took seed and bloomed, it dawned on me....I will probably be an old maid once divorced. There is this natural instinct in me to seek and desire to be with someone...I'm aware of this. And yet, little by little I don't care. 

And so....I hate men. There. I said it. Point blank. To the point. After all that rubbish above...the conclusion is that the idea of being single forever grows more appealing as I deal with more and more men who lack integrity, class, respect, and a brain, to say the least. Who has time for dating anyway? Who has time to meet anyone even to date? Call me bitter. Call me cynical. Call me whatever. I'm in a horrendous mood and it doesn't matter what you call me, I said it. So...yeah. 

How the time flies

I AM BOOTIFUL!

Panic Attacks and Friggin Smart Kids

love thy self

One Tub of Ice Cream!

The other night, I was smiling over a bowl *ahem...tub...* of ice cream, chatting with the sibling. Just scooping spoon after spoon of cold, creamy goodness into my mouth.

"You gonna eat the rest of that ice cream?" the sib asks, skepticism and harsh scorn on her face as she peered into the tub of HEB Buttered Pecan ice cream I had under my chin.

"Yes..." spoon midway to my mouth. Self doubt filling me and I could already feel the self-defensive me rise to the surface.

"Why? You know it's wrong...why are you doing it?" I'm feeling chagrined and shameful yet defiant and stubborn.

"I don't know!" I reply. Short, unforgiving, and non-apologetic. The sib leaves and I sit there with my tub of ice cream. Weak sauce! Why am I eating this worthless, empty bowl  tub of ice cream?!? What is wrong with me? And I thought of all the bad, bad things I'd eaten during the week. Oreos, two donuts, oreos, more ice cream, fast food....empty food.

It seems I've been feeling a little self-destructive lately. I haven't run in a while, I'm not eating well, I lay awake at night with a million thoughts racing while sleep skips it's merry way out of my world. Sometimes I stand at my window at night and stare out, wishing I could just drive away. Drive far away, lie under the stars, and fade into nothing while gazing at the universe above.

There are times when I'm in-expressively depressed and I just float. A co-worker struck up a conversation on depression. Depression is a choice. This co-worker was adamant about this, believed it. Yes, I choose to go from being wonderfully elated and happy one minute to dragging one foot in front of the other, sad and lonely and depressed. I want these nightmares and fears haunting me with no one to really talk to about them....no one that wouldn't think, geeeeezzzzzz, this one's gone off the deep end! At some point, yes, you have to get up, gather yourself, and just walk. And make an effort to just BE happy. It's a process for some people, though.

Depression is not just about being sad and down. It's losing faith in people because so many have hurt you. It's losing zest for life because you've been beaten so much at everything. It's expecting the worst because that's all that has ever happened to you. It's having enough traumatizing events in your life occur that you feel like all of life is disheartening, and traumatic and you're just waiting for the next kick in the arse. I wanted to yell at this person, "Ever have a loved one die in your arms after seven minutes of CPR?" It's not feeling good enough. It's feeling worthless because someone made you feel like dirt and scum.

The thing is people walk around with their assumptions about depression, talking up a storm about how it can be this and that; and you can do this and that to control it... to get over it. And all along, there's a person next to them suffering from clinical or chronic depression and they wouldn't even know it. Yes, please tell me how depression is a choice. But yes. I did make some choices. Hopefully, it'll help. 

Inch by Inch

The past six years I've been constantly cutting my hair. Shorter and shorter and shorter. I colored it. Bleached it. Dyed it red, brown, red, black, red...see ein pattern? No more!! February I had the urge to shear the locks again...but I told myself NO! And I haven't...not even an inch....except to trim the silly little bangs so that I don't have an overbearing forehead. 

November 2012

Well, I plan on letting it grow, grow, grow. Muahahahahahaha!!! I don't know. I guess I just miss the old hair.  

July 2013

So here's to happy longer-hair growing. Not the best idea during the heat of South Texas summer but I've kept it up this long. Growing up, I always had long hair for as long as I could remember. Flowing down my back in long, straight strands all the way past my waist. And I used to constantly dream of the day when I could get rid of ALL of it. Pixie cut short. Now I know, I can't pull that look off. These days, the gradual hair loss has me missing my once thick, long, jet-black hair. So here's to an attempt (of many, I'm sure) to grow it out again just like when I was "younger." 

Oh another thing I'm growing. Our new dispatcher at work gave the office girls some sunflower seeds....and guess what we came up with? Sunflower growing competition! Let the race begin! I hope I win!

For Wheals!!!

Hi, guys...(said sheepishly). So. Last run was July 22nd...yeah. To justify this, I'll share some incidents with you. Well...one incident that started this roller coaster two weeks. So the bugs love me. I'm all sweet and junk or something. Or I don't know maybe bugs love bitter...I can confess I might be slightly bitter. Just slightly. But the point is, I have been bit several times in the last month. Mostly my right arm. Apparently, it's delicious. So the last bite started out as a small, nondescript bite, turned into an itchy nuisance, then blew up in a fit of cellulitis. I told you about the draining and the pain and the visit to the doc's. Well, everything seemed to be fine. But I noticed while taking the antibiotics some side effects. Which I RARELY have. Until lately that is....something to do with age, although I'm skeptical...I'm as healthy now as I was when I was sixteen gosh darnit!

It started with some dizziness. Twenty minutes post swallowing the giant white pill the world would spin and shift. Slightly...almost unnoticeable but I felt it most if I was sitting too still. Then gradually the dizziness turned into pretty bad nausea. And that is the WORST. When you feel that queasiness but no relief because you just can't purge it from the back of your throat. There were a couple of days when I tried to start a run but I just couldn't get the feeling to go away enough to muster up the will to just run! It was frustrating. Then I noticed my appetite. I had none. I would think I wanted something, make it, and sit down to eat it. Aaaaaand nothing. Everything looked disgusting. So instead of enjoying my food as I usually do (cuz I loooooove food), I was eating just because I knew I had to for my health, I guess. I started skipping breakfast again. *Sad face* Bad! And then the migraine hit. Saturday I was sitting at a shop, waiting for my oil change, and my head felt like it just imploded on itself. I felt like my ears were bleeding. It was horrible being there in that shop where there was lots of light, lots of noise, and lots of scents/smells. Popped an Excedrin (love these!) and it took the edge off but holy guacamole!

she's a beauty!

And then Sunday morning the itchiness crept in. Slowly but surely. It didn't help that the classroom I was teaching in was extremely hot...made me uncomfortable. I almost lost my cool in the middle of a lesson. During the whole lesson, my arm was extremely itchy. It was distracting. I didn't think anything of it...thought that it was just my bite healing from the draining and what not. But Monday the itchiness traveled down my whole forearm. By Tuesday afternoon, both of my arms were covered in red, blotchy wheals. Tuesday evening, my legs and feet were covered, the itchiness driving me to a point of madness. So where did I go today on my day off? Back to the doc's. So the doc concluded that I'm allergic to sulfamethoxazole. So now I can no longer put NONE when asked on a medical form if I have any allergies to certain medications. He said that I should stop the medication....I only had ONE more day. Oh well. Oh apparently I was not supposed to be running under the sun while I was on this antibiotic. It clearly stated this on the bottle...I don't read prescription bottles apparently. Doc said it's probably why I got that migraine and dizziness. So yeah. Oh well. Recommended I take Benadryl in the meantime and come back if the condition worsens like if I have trouble breathing and stuff. So there's that....

And the point is, I've had a rough past two weeks. I'm hoping to get over all these silly side effects, get back to normal, and start running again before this next 5K which is August 31st!!!!!

Also!!!

^^--THAT KID STARTS KINDERGARTEN SOOOOOON!!! Say whaaaaaa???? Excuse me while I sit a while in shock and bewilderment!!!

So yeah!! I must make good with my running goals again!

 

Loving Someone You Never Got To Meet

I don't talk about this much. In fact, I've never talked about this subject in detail. But for some reason, I feel like I need to share. Mostly to purge what I've hidden and anguished over by myself. December 2009, we found out I was pregnant. I was elated but so very doubtful and cautious to get my hopes up. Three previous miscarriages didn't lend much hope yet there was a teensy weensy bit of hope. I went to those first appointments and witnessed a good, strong heartbeat. And instantly names spun through my head. Baby clothes danced across my mind. Bottle feeding. Diaper changing. Midnight feedings. Hungry infant cries. Milestones celebrations. It's instant. A mother can't help it. Hopes, dreams, visions whoosh in her mind like a hurricane. They had me on baby aspirin. They had me on progesterone. They were going to make this happen, and I was beginning to believe it and allowing myself to sit back and enjoy the joys of growing a baby inside my tiny, little body.

February 16, 2010. I went to my appointment, every hope bright and radiating through my body. We were doing an ultrasound. I was going to see my little angel again. I laid back on the table, smiling. Ready and eager to see my baby on that screen. And I saw it. I was happy for one moment and in the next moment I was panicking. The doctor wasn't saying anything. I heard the click-click of his mouse a dozen times. As he measured, readjusted, looked again. A look spread across his face as he recognized something I was not. And then I saw it, too. No heartbeat. Nothing at all.... I remember just clicking off. Turned off my emotions and just became numb. The doctor was saying a lot of things, sighing, rubbing his chin. Frowning. Looking helpless. I shook my head and just said okay a dozen times.

"Can I just get one last picture...." I murmured. And I knew he was choking down words and emotions as he nodded his head. He gave me the picture. I took it, gazed at it, and then put it in my purse. I was alone. So very alone and still I didn't allow myself to cry while I dressed. Gradually I felt an urgency to just leave the place. But I walked to my doctor's office as directed and sat in a chair, waiting. He asked if I wanted to do another D&C and I just chuckled. "No, " was my flat, unemotional answer. He nodded.

"We'll see what happens in two weeks..." I remember him clearing his throat a lot. He asked if I wanted to pray with him. I allowed the gesture. He knew I was Mormon. I knew he was Baptist. His words fell heavily on my heart but I appreciated his sincerity.

"We can try again...." he said as I was standing. I looked back at him, suddenly feeling terribly and utterly wasted. I was alone. No one was with me and I just wanted to leave. Go to a dark place and tear apart my body. My useless, unforgiving body.

"No..." another flat-voiced, answer. This was it. I couldn't do this anymore. And I left. I fled actually. And I waited one week. I don't know how I functioned. I just did. Fed my son. Cleaned the house. Moved furniture. Folded laundry. Went to the park. Just going through the motion of every day things, waiting. I didn't cry once. Just waited. Didn't talk about it  much. These waiting games carry abundant torture as it is...why talk about it?

February 23, 2010. It happened. I remember the cramps. I remember the shock even though I knew it was coming. I was in the bathroom. Lil man was napping. It was then that the tears flowed. It was then that the anguish ripped me apart inside. And I felt great depths of anger and utter despair. And I remember howling. Moaning in sorrow as I cried aloud to God. I held her in my hands. I decided it was a her. My body shook and shuddered with every broken emotion I felt that day. And I remember thinking this was absolutely all my fault. I apologized to her. I told her I was sorry I wasn't good enough. I spent an hour with her, despairing. And then vowing never again. I could never do this again to anyone else. Never, baby girl. Never again.

"My baby....my baby....oh my sweet, sweet baby.." I kept repeating over and over until I just couldn't stand the pain of what I was facing right then and there.

Then I stood and cleaned everything up robotically, placing her in a tiny shoe box. I buried her. And only I know the exact spot she rests. I told everyone when it happened. But I never told anyone the depth of all that happened that day. But I cried almost every night and I sank further and further into a deep, inconsolable depression. I did what I had to every day; slapped on a fake smile. Got my chores done. But I started eating and eating and eating. And drinking and drinking and drinking. And no one really knew.

Love, Bugs, and Stuff Like That....

So last week was a horrible, horrible week for me as far as the running and what not. It rained most of the week, but that's no excuse. I've run in freezing rain before....once...but I still did it. But starting Monday, I had this migraine present but lurking in the corners of my skull. Am I grateful for Excedrin! Kept the migraine at bay but I really had a hard time focusing. I just wanted to sleep! Curl up in a tight, cozy ball and sleeeep forever! Did not run one day this past week....WEAK! So I could not find the focus I needed. I felt like I was barely functioning. So this coming week, I had better get my bum in gear! Go Brina!

And then this weekend another bug bite gone wrong. Had to go to the emergency room. Boooo, although the doctor was very polite, did his work quick, and gave me some strong, potent antibiotics. Infected, abscessed! It was pretty. My whole right forearm was swollen today and I could feel the puss swimming and oozing underneath my skin. So gave in. Threw the towel in and gritted my teeth all the way to the doc's. Anesthetics are not my friend. I felt the needle. Both times! Mercy me, what pain! And then I felt the draining. Ow, ow ow! The pressure and the sting was quite unbearable. Bit down on my shirt sleeve and held my breathe the whole time. Beads of sweat popping out on my forehead and I know my heart rate was outta control! But doc was quick. Tough but quick. Now the wait at the pharmacy...that was ridiculous. I was in pain. My arm felt like it could fall off and was burning but I had to wait. One hour and thirty minutes later. Geez Louise! By that time, I felt like I'd reached my pain threshold. Raced home and took my meds and ate. Feeling better and hoping this arm starts to look normal again!

And another thing! Had a talk with a friend who's going through some heartache. This Someone-Friend asked if there was a way to get rid of all the feelings and memories right now, right now! Someone-Friend wanted every memory, feeling, pain, anger, lingering affection gone this instant. The thing is it doesn't go away that easy. It won't go away just like that. A broken heart is a hard thing to endure BUT with time, it's possible to heal all things. I know. Such an old adage. But from my experience, it's pretty, awfully true. It made me recall my own experience. "Well, what did you do?" I cried and cried and cried. Then I cried-prayed to God, pleading for some kind of relief.  And I sat and waited. And waited. And waited. Trying to hide away from the pain. Trying to tuck it all back in, thinking if I don't think about it, it'll go away. But nothing happened. The pain just wouldn't go away. There were so many triggers. Trigger happy memories came floating into my head, flooding my body with deep depression. But I kept choking it all back.

And then I got up and made new memories and forced myself to embrace all the feelings resulting from my divorce, my failed marriage. While I embraced the anger, the guilt, the disappointment, the feelings of betrayal, I was suddenly also feeling spurts of happy moments. I sorted through my emotions, analyzed them, categorized them, documented them in neat, curt little phrases in my diary and continued to pray. And slowly, I found myself enjoying the happy little moments. At first those little rays of sunshine and rainbow didn't come much, but when they did or I recognized them, man I drank up like an alcoholic in prohibition era. Thirsty and not knowing if more would come. Then slowly I began to realize, these newer, happier moments had always been there; but I wouldn't have known it if I didn't face all the ugliness first, realized the ugly little things that they were and awakened to the beauty of everything else. If that makes any sense.  think what I mean is, it's okay to wallow for a bit and cry and be sad about life's mishaps but it's even better when you get out and smile and DO something else. Yes, it sucks things didn't work out. But that is life. We are all human, looking for love. Looking for a place to belong. Learn from it, let it go, and go look somewhere else. Deep down inside, you know WHO you are, you know the love you deserve. Obviously not the one that walked away from you.

I continue to pray for my silly little heart. But I'm so glad I own this silly little heart that has been through so much. Because of her, I can give advice. And Someone-Friend even mentioned they were proud of how far I've come and expressed gratitude that they are able to be open and frank with me and get open and frank back. All in a day and life of Sabrina! Anywhosies! Happy running peeps!