It’s Hard for Me…

…to write what I really want to write.

It’s why I haven’t written it before, quite frankly.

Nervous about putting it out there. Nervous about your reaction.

Don’t want people ‘worrying’ about me.

But, the (amazing) fact is, people do. Which is why I’m not going to hide it any more.

And for those of you that know me best, I know I haven’t been hiding it at all — you’ve seen it all along.

It took a while to come out, but now that it has, well, it’s sort of been wreaking havoc on me in more ways than one.

But, yeah, my brother’s death — finally starting to deal with it. And it hasn’t been pretty.

And it’s not so much about Tim’s death as it is about the timing of his death. Not to say it would have been easy to handle his death at any time, but when it comes literally within days of my daughter’s birth, well, yeah, can you say world turned upside down? Because I can.

But I’ve told you about this before. This isn’t new. 

What I haven’t told you is how it has changed me. Some of that I know and some of it I don’t — I think because it hasn’t finished changing me yet.

No more patterns. No more routine. No more questions about what could have been or should have been. No. Life is too short. Truly. Don’t want to ask myself any more of those questions.

I don’t want to be mad at Tim for ruining Erin’s arrival — and, well, to some extent I am. I don’t want to be upset about the loss in general — but rather try to celebrate what was, not what might have been.

That isn’t easy. None of it.

And I’m not smart enough to do that on my own.

Which is why I asked for help.

From a counselor.

There. I said it.

Yes, I saw a counselor for about six to eight weeks. And it helped — a lot. And I’m planning to do it again, especially since I’ve learned of a new kind of therapy that is different than traditional talk therapy (no, it’s not shock!). I need to learn more about it, but what I’ve learned so far is encouraging — that it can help ease the pain of traumatic situations and refocus on the good, not the bad.

And, yeah, imagine that, more of my time has been the opposite — on the bad, not the good.

Why now? Good question. I think it’s just taken that long for me to realize that I never really grieved. I never really handled it well when it was going on. Because, quite frankly, I didn’t know where to focus.

But, again, why now? My mood has suffered, as you’ve probably noticed. You’ve told me that. You’ve told me I’ve been more irritable. You’ve told me my temper has flared more than before. You’ve told me my fuse has gotten shorter.

But you’ve also told me that you are with me. That you support me. That you are my friends first and foremost. That you will listen when I need it. That you will encourage if necessary, listen if necessary, talk if necessary, walk if necessary. That whatever it is, you will do it.

I can’t tell you how much that means to me — someone who doesn’t always understand why people would offer that.

What I can tell you is that I am blessed with truly amazing people in my life — all of whom are ready to help.

And while I’ve needed the help so far and will need more in the future, I realiz there is one very important place for me to find strength — and that’s from within.

I need your support — as you’ve given it to me. And I will see a counselor again and seek that help. But at the same time, I need to pull myself out of some of this, too.

And call it an early New Year’s Resolution, but I’m trying.

I really am.


Did He Write This About Me?

I knew there was a reason I’d love the new Bon Jovi album, The Circle. It’s because Jon wrote a song about me — or at least for me. Well, OK, maybe not, but he might as well have.

I read these lyrics — while listening to the song — and went, holy crap, this might as well be my new theme song.

Happy Now
Bon Jovi

What would you say to me?
If I told you I had a dream
If I told you everything
Would you tell me to go back to sleep

Take a look in these tired eyes
They’re coming back to life
I know I can change
Got hope in my veins

I’m telling you
I ain’t going back to the pain
Can I be happy now?
Can I let my breath out?

Let me believe I’m building a dream
Don’t try to drag me down
I just want to scream out loud
Can I be happy now?

Been down on my knees
I learned how to bleed
I’m turnin’ my world around
Can I be happy now?

Can I break free somehow?
I just want to live again
Love again
Pick my pride up off of the ground

I’m ready to pick a fight
Crawl out of the dark to shine a light
I ain’t throwing stones
Got sins of my own

Ain’t everybody just trying to find a way home?
Can I be happy now?
Can I let my breath out?

Let me believe I’m building a dream
Don’t try to drag me down
I just want to scream out loud
Can I be happy now?

Been down on my knees
I learned how to bleed
I’m turning my world around
You’re born then you die
It’s all gone in a minute

I ain’t looking back
Cause I don’t want to miss it
You better live now
Cause no one’s going to get out alive, alive

Can I be happy now?
Can I let my breath out?
Let me believe I’m building a dream
Don’t try to drag me down

I just want to scream out loud
Can I be happy now?
Been down on my knees
I learned how to bleed
I’m turning my world around

Can I be happy now?
Ohhhh I’m turning my world around
Can I be happy now?


Struggling.

There. I said it.

Right up there in the headline. See it?

Yup. It’s official.

I’m struggling.

That’s part of the reason I haven’t been here in, oh, forever. Because, yeah, I was really looking forward to writing the “I succeeded at Forty by Forty” post. Not so much.

That’s just one of the ways I’ve let myself (and probably others) down.

There are more. Lots more.

And remember that lesson that this isn’t a space for you, it’s actually a space for me. Yup. It’s true. Especially now.

I’ve been wanting to come here for a while and didn’t know what to say. Still don’t, really. But figured I’d start with this. Gotta start somewhere, right?

Part of this hit me the other day when I saw a facebook status of two friends being together. One of them I’m in regular contact with. And the other, well, I should be — and I’m not. And it bothers me. To the point that I need to fix it. And to the point where the one I am in regular contact with texted me the following, “No matter what, you can’t lose sight of the people that have always been there.”

That stung. Hard. And it’s totally true. This person is someone I trust explicity, have shared so much with — and I’ve totally dropped the  ball. Why? I don’t know. I have a reason, but I’m not sure I’m even buying it — but now I need to correct my actions — and that’s just one area.

I had a major screw up at work last week. Well, hard to call it a screw up. Point is, I delivered on everything I was supposed to deliver — and well, I might add — but the recipient didn’t think the same way. And the person’s words attacked me at the core — questioning my ability and my decision making. Why did it hurt? Because I put my heart and soul into making this really good thing  happen. It’s still a really good thing. It just probably won’t happen again (when it had the chance to). And, so, yeah, I cried at work. Absolutely lost it. When your insides are challenged — as mine were — that’s one way to respond. Maybe not the most professional, but, yeah, I did it. Only one person saw it and handled the situation amazingly well, but now, yeah,  you all know it.

Oh, and I’m 40 now. Nice. Moving on.

Just questioning a lot of things. Re-examining a lot of things. Trying to figure out a lot of things.

Impossible? Might be. But have to try.

Because if I don’t, I’ll only struggle even more.