{I Wish You Would Step Back From That Ledge}

Trigger warning: Self-harm, worthiness, dramatics

I recently had what one might call an incident, or an episode, or suicidal ideation. I'm not sure what one might call it. I've had a couple in my lifetime but this was one of the worst. And in the spirit of the raw and real blog I'm writing these days, I want to send it out there to the universe and see if it helps.

I have always had what one might call a heightened sense of emotion. If the average person runs at 50% emotion all the time, I run at 900%. I also feel like I get let down a lot. Mostly by God, (or whoever/whatever is in the sky) but by other people as well. I'm kind of a sucker too. I often let people trample me, so I don't make any waves.

I am not by any means the most compassionate nor thoughtful person in the world but I have spent years of therapy and countless nights and days worrying about how what I do impacts other people. I would never want to put someone out. I would never want to not honor a commitment that I had made. But the rough part of all of that is that I expect that same courtesy back from other people and I don't always get it. Then because I have too many feelings ALL. THE. TIME. I spiral right on down into the tragedy that I feel my life is.

The previous paragraphs were written in February and never published, but I've been thinking about them a lot lately and thought I would publish them now because I am a little older and not so much wiser, but have slightly more insight into myself. I think.

Feeling let down is something I feel a lot. Just when I think that I have picked myself back up it feels as though I get knocked right down again. I recently suffered an excruciating personal and professional blow that in my estimation came from out of the clear blue. Someone who I trusted, respected and even loved decided that they thought I wasn't worth the air I breathe. And then decided to let me know all of the reasons why in written form so I could re-read them obsessively for the next few months.

Just as I had thought I was getting into my stride in a new position, in a new town, in a new body (no more baby maker, remember?) this person came a long and not only knocked me out of the way, but then chose to stomp on ALL my feelings like they were trying their darnedest to make some Megan flavored wine. The let down I suffered in February was nothing compared to the next setback.

When things like this happen to an average person, I'm sure that they are upset. I'm sure that it affects them. I'm sure that they are hurt and wish it had never happened. When things like this happen to me, I wish I had never happened. I don't say that to garner sympathy or for people to tell me how great I am and how sad they would be if I weren't around because logically I get it. I get that I need people and they need me. I get attachment. But when I am in the throes of my 900% feelings compounded with something that feels tragic, I wish I could go back to that sidewalk in 2012 and not wake back up.

Of course that would mean I wouldn't have met my gorgeous nephew PJ. It would mean I wouldn't have moved to Iowa to meet the glorious and delicious people that I know here. It would mean that the things I experienced in the last 4ish years wouldn't have happened and along with the bad, there are SO MANY good and wonderful things that have happened.

It's hard to describe when you look at life through that lens, but once you have touched the other side, it is so so so hard to think that anything that happens here could be better than being relieved of all your pain.

So that's where I end up. I can think and know and cherish all of the wonderful people, things and experiences in my life, but always and forever at the back of my mind is the thought that I wouldn't know what I was missing, and that it would have been okay to let go. 

Then when someone you trust decides to take your heart out of your chest and hook it up to a stick of dynamite and blow it to smithereens, you really wish you would have let go. All of those fantastic things don't matter anymore. You can't think of anything except not existing. Something that wasn't an option before you experienced it. But then you did. And there are no backsies. I can't go back to that street corner in 2012 and change what happened there.

So I get up everyday. I read the love text my daddy sends me every morning and I march myself into work where I feel valued. I hug and laugh and lunge with people that I love and who love me. That's all I can do. That's all I know how to do. And someday, I hope it will be enough to keep be from wanting nothingness.

Because after all, love conquers hate.

{HOW DO YOU MEASURE A YEAR}

Why the new blog? I went private with my old blog in 2011 and then I NEVER POSTED AGAIN. Tragedy. I've decided to renew the blogger in me in order to document the next chapter of my life.

So.... November 6th. A day that will live in infamy. I'm just kidding. Except maybe for my mom. (Sorry mom!)

Last year I greeted this day with great joy and hope for the year to come. I was going to be opening a new chapter in my life: moving out of state, getting my first "big girl" job, and embarking on the decade that was supposed to be the prime of my life. I decided I wanted to welcome 30 in Mexico on a beautiful sandy beach with beautiful men (and what beautiful men they were, MOH and PK) and a beautiful sunset. I had such optimism for what my future was to hold. It was the perfect way to kick off a decade.

And then came the year.

That sounded ominous didn't it? It was supposed to be. The last year of my life as not been anything like my dreams thought it would be. I moved halfway across the country to a place where I knew approximately 2 people for a job I thought was my dream. Approximately 65% of the people that live in this city are 12. Okay, 18-22, but they are 12 to me. The other 35% are professors who are older. It's a GREAT place to be for a single gal who's 30. My health took a nose dive for the worse and I ended up in the hospital 3 times in 2 months. I got my second pulmonary embolism (which is the most fun thing), lost half my blood volume, and had a radical hysterectomy. All alone in a town of 12 year-olds. It was a shitty year to say the least.

There were good things that came out of this year though. I made some dear friends in the people in my office as well as the interpreters I worked with. I found the most amazing therapist who taught me a lot about myself, and kept me as sane as she possibly could while I dealt with physical illness, mental illness, and loss. I was lucky to have a job and a group of co-workers that allowed me the time, space, and shoulders to cry on that I needed in order to try and heal.

I learned a lot about myself. I learned that I am not cut out to be the president or CEO. I learned that while I may know all the things, I haven't paid my dues enough to be The Person Who Knows All the Things. And most importantly of all, I learned that I don't want to be The Person Who Knows All the Things.

What I want most is to love.

So, here it is, November 6th again. 365 more days around the sun.

As I look back on The Shittiest Year On Record, I have a lot of feelings. Some are good, but most are not. I don't think I've even processed the number of feelings I have.
SO MANY FEELINGS!

I hope that this blog will help me to begin to process all that I have been through, and the journey that I am about to embark on. I am hoping to be able to have the space and be brave enough to be raw, real, and exposed about my experiences and how they have impacted my life. It's not all going to be sunshine and roses, but hopefully there are glimpses here and there and out of the gloom, the sun will eventually rise.

I desperately hope that 31 will bring all the magic and joy that I had hoped for in 30. Though I feel like I've been through hell, this isn't the end of my journey. I'm trying to look forward to my next 365 days around the sun.

With little less work and far more love.