I sit here and laugh. By this point, I was home alone with 3 babies. The youngest, age 2, was exhibiting signs of autism, my little queen, age 3, could barely speak and had a reoccurring staph infection in her ears and throat, and my oldest, age 6, had such severe anxiety he was manifesting OCD tendencies.
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| The Baby Bears |
Then the unthinkable happened. My sister Jetta died.
My family was devastated, a prepared-devastated, but our hearts were broken. She was our rock, our sunshine, our sounding board, touchstone, conscience, reality check, the smile you needed, the perfect mom, the best sister, and now our Angel.
After 5 years of living with stage 4 breast cancer, her body decided it was done.
We were not ready. Not one bit. Every day we miss her, want to call her, needed to know what she thinks, listen to her advice. Get the slap upside our heads when we needed it that only she was able to do in a loving and Christ-like way. She was always honest, always, blunt, and always loving.
On my way home from her funeral, I visited one of my many quasi-brothers, Ira. I told him how I was treading life. How nothing was working and that I was miserable. I had lost my identity in the whirlwind that was my children. How I did not have friends where I was living. How life had just drained me and how I was just a shell of who I wanted to be.
I was angry. I was hurt. I was lost. And most of all I was looking for a way out.
The last conversation I had with Jetta was about how my vacuum was broken. She knew nothing about the difficulties I was having with myself and the kids. I didn't want to "burden" her with it. I wanted her to enjoy her time with her kids. Only after I lost her did I realize that by keeping her out, I had taken from her a link to her family. A family she loved and missed. We had moved away in 2015. I didn't see her for the last 3 years of her life.
Realizing this was a wake-up call. My honest conversation with Ira was a realization. Something had to change. I didn't want to live the rest of my life as a shell of a human being. I wanted to enjoy life with my children. I wanted to have a fun relationship with my husband, no matter how little time we had with each other. I wanted to form relationships with the people around me.
It was time.
So I put on my big girl boots. I enrolled in grad school at Ira's encouragement to finally do something toward my dream of becoming a college professor. I choose an IT Management MBA at Western Governors University.I tried to get health insurance, which didn't work at first, but amazingly I was approved for Medicaid. I didn't look a gift horse in the mouth and immediately made a doctors appointment to get on some anti-anxiety medication. I found a therapist, who I now see weekly. I then changed my medication so I wasn't a sleeping blob all the time. And I kept going.
The journey that started in May of 2018 with the death of my beloved sister, became an active quest by September of 2018. Now, one year later at the end of May 2019, I am well on my way out of the deep pit of blah that my life had become.
I am starting to enjoy being around people again. In moderation.
I am spending active time with my children again.
My house is clean for the first time in years.
My cats are healthy.
I have monthly dates with the hubs.
I joke.
I play.
I plan, I follow through, most of the time.
So here I am rebooting Beam Creations yet again. I am not going to delete those few posts from years past. Instead, I'm leaving them to be able to show that while it may take a few false starts I can get going.
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