Dear Me (Volume 2),

I notice you tend to say “it’s just me” to things when people are talking. Like the conversation about cooking dinner where you say, “well, it’s just me I’m cooking for”, or the debate over who controls the thermostat temp in the house and you repeat yourself, “it’s just me” so no one to fight with.  I don't think I have ever paid as much attention to how I said it or when I said or who I said that to in conversations, but this past week, it has left me feeling quite alone.  I never thought I felt that like this before.  I could try to chalk it up to depression and anxiety this week since the four-legged beast had to be hospitalized for a life-threatening condition, but I'm not sure they get all the chalk this time. What if this is some desire deep down to have someone to hold me when I can't stand anymore?   I feel like I've been standing alone for quite a long time and sometimes I just want to sit down and let someone take care of me, besides my parents.  There was no one there holding me as I tried to sleep but could only cry, no one to help me carry the burden, no one to share the load with, it was just me.

So what does just me do in this position? I reach out to the doctor in case it is just the depression and anxiety.  I reach out to my friends that I hold dear for encouragement.  I pray for peace and calm through the storm and I try to be as kind to myself as possible right now.  That's what I'm doing for Just Me for now.

  

Dear Me (volume 1),

I wake up these days not feeling like myself and it’s made me start wandering, yes wandering around my mind, as if it held more than chapters but books filled with adventures,  mistakes, and a few barreling laughs.  Some books even included their own cliff notes, legends, and video reference that played in the background while I was reading. I’m a forever multi-tasker. Which story felt like me though, the lost me?  I began reading and realized how many stories I’ve experienced and the sheer number of, about 5, I’ve been privy to being at least the side-kick in.  To someone I’ll be known for  being the loud one in the group, the one who screams insecurity as loudly as she does at other drivers on the road. Known, only as the villain of another’s main character story, or, possibly, the hero of my own.  I doubt it will be for cleaning up my house better than I did my potty mouth.  Forgiving until the grudge was just big enough to hold in the palm of my hand like crumbled paper to list all of my grievances? Perhaps. The young girl that thought dreams could come true only to crush every one that my children had in their childhoods. The sweet one, until the pause of life kicked in, like the rage inside of me at the world. The one people miss when it is convenient for me to drop into their minds. The inappropriate one that tells a story in line at a funeral home that ends with “and I died”.  Understandable why you distance your family from me, I’m the one that’s emotional when you least expect it.  I guess, I may be remembered as the one who laughed so hard that it turned into the giggles that left your stomach hurting.  I was the one who let you disturb my heart with your words even though I never told you, well, maybe I did.  It would depend on when I died, not sure when that will be, but know if you thought you disturbed me, maybe you did and maybe you didn’t, you’ll never know now!  

So many more books to read and even more to write. May whomever plays their parts well, be blessed with the one who wants no drama to the one who’ll slice their tires while their sleeping.  

Love, 

Me

Dear Mr. Snow,

  

 I look out the window and watch the snow fall, slowly, at first, each flake, differing in size, trinkling to the ground ever so lightly; to the rush of more falling faster as if fighting to cover the ground as quickly as possible.  The snow, a fear of mine, for what reason I've never understood. If I'm home and safe inside with nowhere to go, I don't fear it, but if there is a chance I have to be out in public in it, suddenly, the only thing I can think of is.....HIGH insurance premiums!  It's irrational to think that way, but as I see them, floating around outside, each one in a different shape and size, I think that represents to me all the fears in life.  Some are huge and they are all you can see for a minute, while some are faintly there but if you focus on them it blinds your sight to nothing else.  

    I am reminded of a dream I had one night during a time in my life that was very much tumultuous, where my fears spoke so loud that was all I could hear most days. When I awoke one morning and began to wipe the sleep from my eyes, the vision of the dream from the night before was just so clear in my mind. I see an A-framed home nestled into the forest with smoke coming out of the chimney in short puffs that chugged across the grey sky.  I'm dressed in a black thermal shirt, warm black leggings covered by thick burgundy winter socks, and a toboggan on head to cover the bed head happening trying to soak in as much warmth from the wood stove as possible.  I look over and see the dog lazily lying on the couch with a peace about her. I move toward the kitchen to patiently wait on my morning shot of caffeine.  As the coffee is brewing, my gaze moves toward the window to overlook the flurries that are continuing to fall.  The view of quietness all around resonated inside of me as I stared at my blanketed surroundings.  I could feel the "shhh" of the forest as the creatures retreated home to snuggle with their furry loved ones. I gathered my cup of hot brew and nestled beside the dog, just sitting in the silence.  I am not use to the silence.  Here I am, watching myself engulfed in this quiet peacefulness that I never thought possible, in a place surrounded by something that has always scared me.  It hits me, this must be where I speak to God in my dreams.

     When I had this dream I was at a job that was causing me severe anxiety and I found my mental health was reverting to a time that I had believed I had gotten past, but found myself breaking down on a weekly, if not, daily basis.  I thought I had created a home there and it was on fire all around me.  I was miserable, discontented, unvalued, and taken for granted, which all seemed to remind me of a marriage I was once in, long ago.  Change has always been hard for me to accept, hence why I stayed in places and with people that never understood my worth.  Maybe, I wasn't great at seeing my own worth at those times either, or ever.  The thought of leaving and things becoming worse for me were always a factor in my staying, but I never believed things could be better!  I applied to several places and nothing seemed to pan out.  I was getting a little discouraged and thought to myself that maybe these people were undervaluing me because they could see that I had no real potential for growth.  I would beat myself up daily for getting into this situation, relying on a work place where my fears grew bigger each day.  After the dream, I settled into the fact that God had a plan, a place, and a cabin in the woods for me to nestle into and make my own.  One day back in September, I applied for a position and it just all fell into place.  A new job, at home, working toward making the position my own and becoming a valued member of a team was more than I thought I could ask for, but God delivered.  It seemed too easy, my fears came with me at first. It's been almost 5 months now, and I'm settling into my office chair at home and typing away daily to prove my professional worth to myself and others.  

    I pick up my coffee, sip and watch out this window with a new perspective today. From those large flakes that seem to overtake the small ones on their way down, I can watch them without the fear swallowing me whole now, knowing that God's timing is perfect timing and quiets even the loudest voices that come to distract you from His purpose.  

Sincerely, 

M.E.

Dear Mr. Selfish,

I honestly was so caught off guard receiving a message from you.  I stood there, reading your words, "you have been weighing heavily on my heart and mind.  I've apologized to you a million times over and over in my mind. I was too chicken shit or too lousy of a person to do it in reality.  I should have reached out during your time of grief at the very least. I know this is so selfish of me in so many ways but it is very heartfelt.".  How was I supposed to respond to that after so many years?  I felt like all of the options that swam through my head were just too....too heavy.  As I contemplated sending my infamous "F you", I, instead put the phone down and walked away from the idea of responding. 

I must admit I’ve written this letter so many times but never could hit that send button on it. Something just didn't feel authentic with my words, I wasn't being honest with my thoughts or feelings this time.  I was trying to "sugar coat" them or perhaps, just not sit in them anymore.  I was hurt that you just left and even more hurt that you didn't reach out until two years later.  I guess that perfect life you were chasing was too challenging to pick up the phone sooner.  Perfection is what you’ve always wanted and I do hope you finally found it. I know that is something I will never strive to be because mediocrity and challenges provide my life with humor and my spirit with growth. 

You have been absent from my life for so long now, we do not know each other anymore.  As much as that saddens me to say, it is the truth.  Your attempt to reach out was the bare minimum to make you feel better about how things happened in this past friendship. You waited another year before another message, just trying to let me know you were close by in case I happened to initiate conversation this time.  Get that cheap bait out of here....I'm not biting! 

There was a time I answered every call and every message, swiftly, even when it wasn't convenient for myself.  I pulled away from those around me to hide away with you.  I gave and gave of myself without any appreciation from you. I forgave and let things go whenever you got on that high horse of yours and felt as if I wasn't worthy of your time, attention, or friendship.  Then you turned around and continued the behavior time and time again, and my forgiveness never ran out.  It still hasn't.  Forgiveness will remain yours, but my attention will not. 

Maybe I'M too chicken shit to respond to you in fear of opening up old wounds that are better left closed.  I'd like to think I was past all of that and leaning into the fact that your words mean nothing to me now.  I once held them in such regard, but they are just words, your actions are what has led me to this place of indifference. I wish you the best this life you have made for yourself has to offer, but my sideline days of watching it have ended.  

No need to alleviate your conscience anymore with half truths or fake sentiment,  all is forgiven and trying to be forgotten…for good.

Simply,

ME 

Dearest Friend,

 Today I attended a funeral where I felt very selfish with my tears.  I cried not for the soul that was gone,for in knowing that she was with you now and no longer in any pain that this life held for her, she didn’t need my tears. They fell for the ones that are here to pick up the pieces, the family that had no strength to bury their mother/sister/grandmother/friend. Walking inside the church today, my heart was heavy, it was just three years ago today I lost someone that meant the world to me, a friend/brother.  My tears were for him as well, hence the selfishness I was feeling inside. I couldn’t stop them from coming. I tried to take a few deep breaths and prayed to be transported in my mind to a far off place that felt none of this right now. I remember thinking, if only I could close my ears and tune into something not being said I could get through this, but I was still sitting in that green pew with people all around sniffling and wiping away the tears as fast as they ran.  My hearing caught every word of how much the dearly departed loved you and how she grew your relationship stronger by spending time with you, because she understood that was what it was about. A friendship, a journey through life trusting that you always have the best intentions for outcomes, the most loving arms to fall into, and the most honest truth to tell.  

 I grew up being afforded an opportunity to know you, but I never appreciated it.  I never could grasp the true intentions of the relationship.  I remember the love and comfort stories that people told but what always stuck out to me more was the “hell, fire, and brimstone” mixed with wrath and vengeance angles.  I guess I never grasped the “assignment”.  I felt afraid and that never bosts a flourishing friendship, one can’t be afraid of the other.  I think about the friends around me during difficult times, some reached out, some disappeared, and some stayed behind the curtains praying when I needed it the most. Looking back, I can see that you were right there beside me on the floor holding my hand while I cried out about it all, the quiet comforter. I must admit that I know my shortcomings and  freely admit that my lack of understanding what was wanted from me was a willingness to love you as unconditionally as you love me.  I’ve never been great at cultivating any kind of ships, friendships or relationships.  I forget sometimes that these ships require work not to run into the docks of life. So during that service today, when I was wishing to be anywhere else but there, the words were what I needed to hear.  Lovely, kind individuals speaking about the relationship that she had with you and that is our intended purpose on this earth, I was listening. 

 I promise to work on my part to grow our relationship and to learn to trust that you will never abandon me, that you will be there in the midst of everything to comfort, guide and love me through every mistake and challenge I endure. 

Signed, 

ME

 

Dear Mr. Memory,

The other night as I was strolling down the country pavement road with the four-legged beast, Polly, it was beginning to turn dusk so the heat was dying down just enough to where the walk wasn't miserable. I could smell the sweetness of the mimosa trees in the air and to my right was the pond, the insects making little circles along its surface, and the lightning bugs glowing along the embankment. I was listening to the randomness of my Spotify playlist as I sweated along down the road, watching as the wild bunnies hopped onto the other side of the fence to escape me and the beast invading their evening.  These sights alone would bring back feelings of nostalgia along with a flood of memories from my life, but the song playing at that moment seemed to freeze time for me. The song went, "when the night is over, out of all the places I could choose I go to you, only you. Feel you just below the surface, darling, all I wanna do is go to you.".  It was with those words I began to think of you and you spoke back to me and as if you were a brother of the string, you blended those notes so effortlessly with the images that came flooding to the surface.  

 There is Moody, standing as a young child with those blonde curls wrapped around her head and a heart as big as this world itself just bouncing on the trampoline to her now, as a mom herself.  Stinky in all his lispy forms of communication chattering my ears off about all the possibilities this life can hold to now being a husband and a leader for his wife.  Doodle, the most fantastic 3 year old hand holder,  amazing me with all the knowledge his little nine year old brain can hold and how wide his arms spread to give hugs to those he loves.  Little K'lani Rea's sweet face with those big brown eyes filled with excitement for exploring this life. Camille turning one and devouring the cake as intensely as she will attempt to devour whatever comes her way.  Past friendships before the turmoil to new friendships that encourage growth of spirit. Coworkers I hadn't thought about in years and the small moments we shared during long work hours widened the smile on my face. Flashes to those moments where I felt like just one more human on this planet felt the same way I did and how precious being understood for just a single moment resonated within my being. 

What an odd thing, to think of memories that are my own as a separate entity, but that is what was drawing me into the movie complex of my brain.  The flashes of time that led to who I am now, today, with more to lead to who I am to become.  I don't believe I've ever understood quite how intimate our relationship was before now.  Feeling, what I thought was sweat dripping down my face in abundance, I wiped it away and was pulled back by the leash of reality to finishing the walk, but there was more than the sweetness of those mimosas in the air that evening as I made my way to my back porch for a well deserved rest.  I sat down in the swing and pressed my Air pods in just a little further, hit repeat while I sat back and enjoyed the remainder of the show.  Thank you for reminding me that the past isn't always  filled with the heartache of loss or the anger of things gone wrong, but a kindness that reaches into my soul to show me that no matter how hard things become in this life that there is always a smile to brighten the darkness.

Dearest Mental Health

 When we were walking through Wal-Mart today, I felt how you shrunk down inside of me.  I felt your anxiety that ran throughout, where you started questioning your every decision this past week. How you were beating yourself up about everything that happened…stop!  Just take a moment and breathe!  

When you were in that past relationship, you were made to walk on egg shells as not to disturb the monster that you called significant other.  You ate guilt for breakfast, lunch, and dinner because you were manipulated to believe everything wrong was your fault.  You saw no way out from the prison that you helped to create for yourself by allowing the narcissist to have access to your thoughts while you slept.  It felt like there were days in that aftermath that you could barely breathe, but you managed to keep getting up every day and began working on yourself once he was gone. You sought help and guidance from a professional because you were so beaten down you couldn’t even stand on your own two legs at that time. Now, you’re better.  You didn’t run away from the fight for your life, you walked passionately and intently toward this version of you.  I kinda like you now.  So, why does everything in you say to run now?  That feeling to run away, not walk, from the job you’ve had for so long now because you feel that same pull into darkness you once did. The familiarity of those eggs shells crunching under your feet, once again triggering you to into a shell of this person you’ve become.  The sound of the lies piercing your ears becomes so loud you can’t hear me cheering you on past them.  You promised yourself to never be in a relationship like that again, but you were there first before this monster. Now he roams the same hallways five days a week with his control issues.  You’ve expressed yourself and are aware now of this trigger but I see you raising your hand to ask a question because if you  speak out of turn you are argumentative or combative to his sense of self.  My friend, you fought hard to get past those demons and I can’t stand by while you’re flailing your arms asking for help, not again.  I am listening, I hear you, I am right here with you now and always. So, breathe, get on your knees and give this one to God, let Him fight this battle for you.  Then get up, put your hand down, and walk toward the doors and opportunities that God presents. 

Signed,

M.E.