Eerie

Wow- I got some great feed back from my previous post. It is nice to know that I am not alone when I speak of my quest for happiness. I think that even though I suffer from time to time with depression, the fact that I am aware of this, I can embrace it and know that it is part of me. When I was 19 I didn't like myself. I hated myself. I hated everything about myself. I look back at me. I look back and see "that" me sitting against a wall crying. I remember feeling very alone. This was part of the reason I loved alcohol so much. As soon as I started to feel that warm feeling I could forget about hating myself. I could forget about all of the asses who "I thought" were so cruel. I often wonder what my life would have been like if I had not been so dependent on alcohol. I wonder if I would have actually went to school instead of sleeping the day away. What would I have become? I do know that if I had been a great student and didn't drink and repeatedly get caught by my friends the cops, that I would not have been forced to move back home. I would not have met my now husband and I would not be Keyton, Hal, and Owen's mommy.

Right now my community-- as well as many communities close by are feeling the affects of the loss of a small town's high school teacher. This woman went out for a morning jog--at 6:30 am and never returned home. There had been a massive search and the outcome was tragic. I am shook up. I think everyone in the area is shook up. It is like we all knew something like this was going to happen---with the dramatic change within the area. I am happy to know that the people most likely responsible for this have been caught, but it doesn't take away from the loss that so many are feeling. There are still a lot of questions that we need answered. All we can do is be careful. The environment we are living is unsafe. It is eerie--this place my friends, family and myself call home is uncomfortable. I am disturbed and I keep thinking not only about this women's family but the citizens in her community--especially her students.

Unconditional Love

Writing has not been on my list of things to do these days. Aside from working, going to school, and taking care of three little people, two big people (Jesse and myself), and one little dog, I just can't juggle it all. I'm not good at multitasking. In fact, in the short few months that I have not written, I went to work at a hospital as a registered nurse, I was determined to become a labor and delivery nurse. It took me only a few short weeks to understand that I was no where prepared for such a commitment. I decided to work on a medical surgical unit in hopes that it would be a better fit. However, it took me only another few short weeks to understand that those 12 hour shifts are not right for me in any environment (at the moment). So, I decided I would go work at a clinic. I was all ready, I had given the hospital the required 3o day notice and was already on the clinic's schedule, before I understood I wasn't in the position to work at the clinic either. All of this hit me ( not wanting to work as a nurse) when I woke up in the middle of the day after having just worked a 12 hour night shift and decided that I needed a day job, that would well...not scare the hell out of me. I woke up put in my contacts and went down town in search of a job. I made a phone call and ended up at an old building in down town Williston. I got the name of a guy I used to hang out with when I was younger and found out that he works for a company that was looking for some help. I walked into his company and I went up to a desk where a pretty girl was sitting and I said, "I am here to talk to my old friend." She asked for my name. I felt stupid, so I said I was just an old friend and I just needed to speak with my old buddy for a minute or two. She went to see if this person was busy and she came back and said he was in deed busy, but she would leave a message for him. I left my name and number and embarrassed, I walked out of the building. A few minutes later my cell phone rang. It was him ( the old friend) and I had an interview the next morning at 8:30 am after my night shift at the hospital was over. I worked all night, came home and again put my contacts in and put on some interview type clothes and met with the boss man (not my old friend, but my old friend's boss man) and I was offered a job. I had no idea what this job was, I researched the company a little and I found out that I was going to be working at a trucking company. I am now employed at a trucking company. I had my first day today. I have my own office with a spectacular view of a funeral home, which is located across the street! I have my own desk and places to put pictures and I have a one hour lunch break. I have my own phone, although I don't know the number that one would have to dial to reach me, and there are a bunch of names on the phone that I do not recognize. I learned how to do these fancy things called invoices. In fact my new title is Invoice specialist. I went from "Registered Nurse Sarah" to "Invoice Specialist Sarah" all in just a matter of weeks. I must say it is going to be an adjustment. I do think that it is going to be a great fit for me. I love being a nurse, I love it so much that at the moment I know I can't be the best nurse I can be, I can't swing it. After a night shift, I would come home and lay my head down on my table and sob. I would sob because I didn't get to bring my kids to school, I would sob because I would have to sleep away half of the day. I have many friends who love those 12 hour shifts, because that means they work three days and then they have a bunch of days off in a row--I would like that too if my husband would come home every night. I like having a job because my husband does not come home at five and when I am home alone with three children for 24 hours straight, depression sets in. A dark cloud finds me and then I can not see. I like the routine. I am lucky that Owen has a daycare where the workers are more than fantastic. They love O and O loves them. I am lucky that my kids want to go to school--they love to see their friends and they actually beg me to take them too school before school starts. I actually think they just like to eat the school's breakfast because my cooking is not so good. So here is to 2012. May I find peace and fill my soul with happiness. Happiness has always been a struggle for me. I have bad genes. After all, my grandfather committed suicide when I was only one-years-old. I have always struggled to fill a hole in my soul. People are always telling me to focus on all the good in my life. That is an easy thing for people to say when they have never suffered the effects of depression. That is an easy thing to say when they don't have that hole in their soul. Believe me, I have done odd things to fill that hole in my soul. I have tried herbal therapy, not really that odd, but sort of risky being that I am already on an antidepressant. I have asked everyone I know for advice, only to find out that they can't give me the answers that I am looking for, because they don't know what a hole in the soul feels like. No, nothing in particular has caused my depression---besides some messed up biochemical elements that circulate at the rate of a turtle. I am not the kind of person that holds back. If I am sad, believe me, everyone around me knows. I will tell them--I will say, " Hey there, I am depressed today, I am sad.". Most people get uncomfortable with this. This is when they say things like, "well, focus on all of the good things you have in your life." Really??? As if it were that easy you humans! I do know one thing that my dramatic personality can do and that is push away ones that I love. I love hard, and with that comes pain. If I am hurt I tend to tell EVERYONE who will listen to me. This is not always a good trait. Sometimes, I trust people with things that I shouldn't. I will tell them how I am feeling and they will not....no they cannot empathize and since they can't empathize they will cut me out completely. I am lucky I have a best friend---Husband. He for some reason always listens to me. Although, he can't empathize with me most of the time, he puts up with me and loves me anyways. Unconditional love---is what I value the most in this universe. Unconditional. So again to 2012, may I continue to fill that hole in my soul--and to unconditional love.

BEP

Yesterday, I saw the Black Eyed Peas in concert in Minot, North Dakota. I had seen them before, but this concert was a lot different than the concert in Minneapolis. This was a concert to raise money for the city of Minot. It was a nice concert, it was nice to see a band as big as the BEP lend a helping hand to my state. The lead singer of the group is married to a guy from Minot. All of the funds raised from the concert went to the city. Really cool.

Although, I had fun, I was again the "sober" girl. I had one person ask me over and over again---wait not ask me, but tell me-- I wasn't having fun because I wasn't total wasted. PEOPLE I have fun, just because I don't drink doesn't mean you have to sip your beers and look at me with eyes that read, "you must be so jealous of me right now, because I am getting messed up!" Actually, I don't miss getting out of control. I am glad I don't stand on chairs and scream random things at people. I have control over every situation I am in. Basically, now I control if and when I am going to stand on a chair and yell, which by the way I still do, but I AM doing it, not "Donna" (the name I gave to drunk Sarah). Of course I get jealous---that I am not also enjoying an adult beverage. The culture (especially in NoDak) is the more you drink--the better. It is not this way with every individuals within the state of ND... I understand that, but for a variety of people this is normal behavior, and I accept it. I was offered a beer today out at the lake. I told the person no, I don't...drink. "Oh you must have to drive home." "Well, yes, but I don't drink....ever." Followed by a look, like I suddenly had grown a gigantic horn on the top of my head. I did get pissed after the BEP concert; because I couldn't find away out of the parking lot of the Holiday Inn. I had parked by the Holiday Inn and took a wrong turn which somehow led me into the hotel's parking lot. For the love of God, I could not find an escape route. I had my good friend sitting in the passenger seat, shouting directions at me, and I did have to stop the car and yell at her a few times. It was like a bad dream--driving around that hotel parking lot, I found a cop and I rolled down my window, I asked " how do I get out of this parking lot, all of the entrances are blocked off, and I don't even know how I got into this parking lot?" The cop (JERK) said " You are not supposed to be in this parking lot!" And the jerk told me to drive off of a big stupid curb. I rolled up my window, and zoomed away, frantically following another vehicle out of the parking lot. I got out. One of the girls in the car yelled, "Get me out of the car!" It's times like these, I wish I was liquored up, sitting in the back seat, not really understanding what is going on. It was a fun trip beside the side trip that took place in a parking lot. Now, to my homework. I start work on Tuesday. I'm excited ....I think.

Tina Fey

I can't wait to be done with school. I hate school, always have--always will. If I decide to go back again after this, I hope someone punches me in the face. Writing papers could be fun--if my instructors would let me write about something fun. I missed my calling. I read Tina Fey's "Bossypants", and I should be Tina. I should have went to school in Chicago and studied at The Second City. What is wrong with me? Tina has talent. I have no real talent (but I know funny..like Tina)--I can't sing (didn't make swing choir in Junior High), I can't dance (I studied dance--for like a year-- until I had to wear a neon colored spandex uniform and dance in front of an audience-- where I couldn't remember my choreography), I can't play a musical instrument ( I attempted the drums--looked like an idiot-- I never actually learned to read notes-- I just pretended to play a snare drum), and I can't draw ( ask my kids). When Tina was in high school, she worked for her community's local theater company and her job...was to take tickets (she eventually did more, but she didn't sing, dance or play a musical instrument (I don't think she played an instrument). I could have done that. I could have been a Tina Fey. Not that I don't like being a nurse, but how much fun would it be to write comedy sketches? To this day, I try and not miss a Saturday Night Live. There is something so great about people performing and writing such ridiculousness. I often post these YouTube clips on my Facebook page, because I find them brilliant. Most people I know (besides people like my brother, my cousin Kevin and handful of others) don't find the same types of things as humorous as I do. I strongly believe humor gets me through everything. When I was on bed rest, Jess and I watched "The Office", now that is humor. That is quality humor. Sometimes I start laughing so hard while watching such ridiculousness, that I hit the person sitting next to me. It's like I can't help it, I start laughing and start punching those around me. My brother Jake and I were driving one day (well Jake was driving) and he told me to look up this YouTube video, I did, and I started laughing so hard it hurt, the only relief I could get was beating up my brother. He was laughing as hard as I was--- listening to this stupid video, that he occasionally said, "Owe." Ask Jesse, he has been the victim of my laughing, so has my mom. One time, this guy walked up to my friend and in this really strange low pitched voice, he asked " What is a turtle neck?" Serious. He was completely serious...or so it appeared. I live for these moments, not only was this guy hilarious, my friend's face was even funnier--my friend didn't laugh, she was like "Did he just ask me what a turtle neck is?" That in itself could be a sketch on SNL. At least I think so.

Contentment

I have written before about my past anxieties. Basically, I wrote about how "nuts" I was. Like, when I was scared about letting my little brother out of my sight, and when he was out of my sight, I would have to write a certain number of X's, then, and only then, after I completed the number of X's, would my brother be saved (I can't believe I don't remember the number of X's I needed to write in order to save my own brother). That fear (my brother disappearing) developed around the time I was eight or nine-years-old. Although, I don't remember the specifics of the event that led to my OCD, I do remember that it took place at my grandmother's house. My brother and I were staying with my grandma for a week and my brother and I were playing hide-and-seek. He would have been four or five. Jacob, found a great hiding spot. I mean so great, I couldn't find him for an hour. At first, I was not scared, that was before my grandmother caught wind of my brother's disappearance (my grandmother is known for her dramatization). After I had given up looking for Jake, I went into the living room where my grandmother was sitting, and I said something like, " I don't know where Jacob is." She then, not so calmly asked me (yelled) "What do you mean you don't know WHERE your brother is?!?!" My grandma ran down the stairs and all around her house screaming,"Jake? Jacob?" Then she yelled to my grandfather, "Jake is MISSING!!" Witnessing this, I instantly became frightened. I started crying. I don't remember finding him, I don't remember anything, but the panic attack I suffered (mimicking the panic attack my grandmother suffered). From that moment on, I was not going to let my brother disappear again. I wouldn't leave the house and I wouldn't let my brother leave the house; unless I was with him. My mom even took me to a shrink. I over came this fear after a long time of suffering. My family suffered. My mother thought I was crazy, my poor brother thought I was nuts (who could blame him), I have no idea what my father thought. Soooo glad I overcame that fear. It was OCD. Now I can finally see this.

Now, my anxiety for some unknown reason has shifted to this intense thought of losing loved ones. I have never experienced an actual loss of someone really close to me--at least through death--although, I have came (too) close to losing two of my children. I don't know that heart ache---yet thankfully. I have lost people close to me in other ways. As humans, it is inevitable that we are going to have different relationships throughout our lives. I love hard. It's the one thing that I love and hate about myself. I am passionate. I am compassionate. I do everything for everyone else ( which, is why I became a nurse). I wear my heart on my sleeve. I don't mean too, but I do. So, where does this intense fear of losing someone stem from? This is my question. I am spiritual. I think God talks to me. I think I can hear him saying things that are meant to calm my nerves. I know I am wasting time worrying about things that are beyond my control--but it is not as easy for me as it seems to be for everyone else. I have one great friend (and cousin) who I admire deeply. When I am with her and even when I am on the phone with her, I can sense her contentment. I am on a journey, I will be content.

Remembering

Owen is talking now. Well, sort of. He is starting to say more and more words everyday. Most people would think, well sure, he is two and a half after all. I think everything Owen does is an amazing accomplishment. I think about that night, the night the doctor told Jess and I that Owen may not make it through the night. I remember watching in horror when Owen would stop breathing, I remember watching as Owen's skin turned this pale ugly grey color, I remember the sound of the alarms, the the voices and the movements of the nurses working to stimulate him so that he would begin to breath on his own. Now,Owen sits beside me playing with a truck. He loves trucks. I watch him everyday grow and thrive. I am in awe over this child, who only a two and half years ago, lay struggling to breath in an incubator. I remember, finding places where I could sit and sob quietly so no one could see nor hear me. I don't do this anymore, holding in my pain so that others can't see. It hurts to keep such fear and pain tucked in. I let it out.

Changes

Life has defiantly changed since the last time I posted. Hal and Keyton are getting ready to start school tomorrow. Hal will be a first grader and Keyton will be a third grader. Owen is getting ready to start daycare. I am getting ready to start working and Jess is getting ready to help his father with Harvest. I guess we are all getting ready--for something. I got a job at the hospital, and I will be working as a labor and delivery nurse. I will do training on the medical surgical unit first.

I am tired---both emotionally and physically. I don't know if it is all the up coming changes or if it just everyday life. Thankfully, the class I am currently taking has been easy thus far (hope I didn't just jinx myself).

Some times I just need to sit down and evaluate what it is that I have, what is that I want, and what is that I need. I have plenty, I have more than enough. I want to be successful. I need my family and friends. Changes are rough. I am scared. Am I really ready to drop Owen off at a daycare? I don't know, because I have not thought about it. How challenging is it going to be to work, take care of three children, and go to school? I don't now. Jess is gone all of the time with work and now with harvest approaching. I am and have been extremely independent as a mother this far, and I will continue to try and do my best--at being an independent mother. I think there are some people who live in some sort of bubble, where their world is the only world that matters. I don't want to be that person. I want to be aware of what is going on in the world. I want to help with what I can and hope for things I have no control over. America, besides some of America, has came a long way. I recently read a book called The Help. It is a great book--and I recommend it. I will teach my children the value of self worth, I will teach my children the value of EVERYONE'S self worth. I don't want my children to ever be persuaded by the hatred of others. I want my children to be able to know the difference between hatred and truth.