Finding my words.

At the end of 2016, my Facebook feed was filled stuff like this:

..and I didn't really get it. It was definitely "a year"; 2016 had many great times and it had its rough, dirty times, too. But, really, none of that is holding a candle to my year thus far.

I mentioned before that I'm going through a divorce. I've lived in my new place with FeeBee since 12/23 and the attorneys are handling everything, so I don't feel like much of my energy is spent in that direction.

But yesterday was the hardest day of my entire life.  Yesterday FeeBee was euthanized at an emergency veterinary clinic. I had brought her in Friday night and they were going to keep her all weekend to stabilize her vitals. Her blood sugar was way down (she hadn't really eaten) and her blood pressure was very low. It was hard leaving her Friday night but I was just hoping for the best, knowing it was the right thing to happen.

The next morning I was called by the doctor and her blood pressure had continued to drop, despite the medicine she was being given to elevate it. She was not responsive and could do no more than simply lay there.  There was fluid in her body that suggests a very large infection but they couldn't even truly investigate because they couldn't get her stabilized. I had to make the decision to let her go as her BP was so low that her body was beginning to shut down; the doctor said that they had exhausted all of their methods.

I just howled in my apartment. I don't know the other word for it but I howled. And all I've wanted to do is scream, throw things, just let loose and I can't.

Thankfully, FeeBee waited for me to arrive.  She couldn't move but she saw me and wiggled her eyebrows, twitched her feet a bit. When I picked her up she just melted in my arms. My parents were on their way, my friend had brought me there, but I wanted to wait for my parents to arrive to put her to rest. I wasn't able to do that because her breathing began to get very labored and it's just not right to let her hurt.  So, she was put to sleep in my lap and it was like she simply...fell asleep.  Just without the snoring.

The outpouring of love I've received from people is simply amazing. I don't even know what to do with it all.  I've been asked if I'm okay, how I'm doing...and the truth is - I don't know how I'm doing. I don't feel like I'm really doing very well. I feel that I'm putting on a face and just going through the motions.  I feel like a can of fireworks. I feel like a part of me is missing and I could float away.  I feel like everyone is watching me to see how I'm going to be and I have to pretend that I still am feeling like there's purpose in all of this.

I feel like I don't want to do anything. I feel like I don't know my place. I just despair.  It comes in waves and I catch myself just whining.  She was 14 when she died; I had her since she was a baby. I don't know what it's like to not have someone to come home to. I don't know what my life is like without her because it's been so long I don't remember.  She slept with me and her spot was curled up right next to my belly.  That spot feels so empty.  I've never had an empty house or an empty bed.

I have faith I'll see her again but that doesn't make the feeling of loss I'm experiencing right now any better. It doesn't make my apartment feel like a home again, like it did less than 48 hours ago.

FeeBee is buried at my parents' house. Somehow, the ground was soft enough to dig a deep hole and place her in, next to her brother. I wasn't sure how we'd do it but my dad was like "We'll pick-axe it if we need to," - no excuses.  So me, my dad, and my friend Theresa dug a hole for my baby and didn't even need the axe. It was a gorgeous, warm day.  The kind of day that would've made FeeBee perk up and want to explore outside.

I'm grateful for a lot of things, despite the pain. I'm grateful that for 2 months, she was the one that received all my love and attention - never mind the attention from my friends and family. She liked being the only dog; the only recipient of all affection. I had almost 14 years with her and that's more than a lot of people have with their dogs.  When I moved here, she came with me wherever she could, so, basically, everywhere but work, the grocery store, and my weekend trip to Boston. She had a great life; I just wish it would last forever.

She.

Made me laugh, made me stop and be present, made me love.

And if you hear a howling, that is me.

Tutorial: Boxing Glove Deodorizers

I promised that I'd do a "how-to" with how I make my homemade boxing glove deodorizers.

They're easy to make...but they take me some time to make.  I only have the attention span to make, at most, 4 at a time.

If you don't know what I'm talking about, maybe you've seen my random "for sale" posts for these babies on Facebook?  If you still don't know, I have been making glove deodorizers out of the amazing collection of fabric I already have in my possession.  Because let's face it - hands sweat in gloves, regardless of wearing hand wraps or not, and that can get downright unpleasant.  Why not have something that can help absorb the moisture and keep your gloves from smelling like Fritos?

So here's my tutorial on how to make your own so your hands can stop stinking TODAY! :)

First off, you need some things.  They are:

• Fabric; something with very little to no stretch;
• A stencil of the shape of the deodorizer - I made my own out of card-stock paper;
• A strip of fabric that will act as a tie in between the two deodorizers;
• A Sharpie - whatever color you like;
• Plain rice;
• Essential oils;
• Sewing machine; and 
• Quality thread similar to the color scheme you're going with.

First things first, get your stuff ready.  There's nothing more frustrating than to have to stop what you're doing to try and find what you need.

Pick your fabric and get your stencil ready!

Turn the fabric inside out and use your stencil to make the pattern.  In this photo, I had folded the fabric inside out, so it looks like there's only TWO patterns but there's actually FOUR.  You need four.

Sew, and flip inside out (really, "right side in".  Note:  When you flip them, it's gonna look teeny tiny.  No worries.  Just wait until you fill them.

The rice and essential oil ~ I used quite a few droplets in this batch.  The amount of rice you will need will vary.  I use rice because it's sustainable AND if you put these in the microwave for 2 minutes, they will make a wonderful heat pack :)  You can also put them in the freezer.  So, versatility!

I fill the two sacks halfway with rice because when it lays down, I want the rice to have room to spread!  

Insert the strap into the opening at the top, and fold over until smooth.  Pin to keep the edges straight while sewing!

There we go!  Sew both sides...

And bingo!  Glove deodorizers!

Some things to note - the strap in between should also be a material that's not super stretchy.  If you want to know what I used...I shall tell you :)  It's actually a pair of hand wraps I ironed and cut to re-purpose!  So if you have extra hand wraps laying around that don't seem to have their mate (as in, your dryer ate it right along with your socks), this is a great way to put them to good use.  Plus, the fact that they're FOR boxing gloves makes it a rather cool feature.

I'm by no way an expert seamstress.  I'm self-taught and I learn something new with every single pair I make.  But ~ I love learning new crafts AND it also pleases me to re-purpose things into something that's extremely useful and desired. So, the stitches aren't perfect and each pair is different than the last. I just get such enjoyment making things for people and spending time in my craft room.  

I feel very blessed to have fallen on both feet and found the place I did. I have an entire room with its only purpose being to foster my imagination and creativity. 

I've always enjoyed it.

Standing still.

Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath 

and just

realizing that while I freeze

the world moves around me.

I love standing still amidst chaos and just feeling the motion around me.

This weekend I traveled with a friend to Boston. I don't ever want to live in a city but who knows, maybe someday I might for a time. I like the busy-ness of it; the realization of complete anonymity.  No one knows me and no one likely will remember my face. The fact that there are tourists in and out of Boston at any given time it'd be fate if you ran into these same people again someday in another place, in another time.

I like traveling and this weekend away rekindled a fire in me. I used to love to hop on the train and just go. Get in the car and go. Pack a bag, pack FeeBee, and go.  And that was something sort of lost over the past 5 or so years. I grew roots under my feet and they ran deep. Now I am feeling untethered and I want to just go.  "Go", not in the sense of run away - but go and come back.  Go and bring back a little something else to puzzle-piece into my life.  Go.

To go with a limited agenda - just pick where and one big thing to do and let the rest fall into place.

To go with a backpack and some snacks and water.

To go and take pictures of whatever strikes my fancy.

To go and simply imagine not coming back - to dream about starting over with nothing but the contents of a knapsack.  To start from the bottom and see what can be created.

I like to dream like this and it has made people uncomfortable before. Dreaming doesn't mean I'm unhappy with my life; I just have a big imagination that's constantly fueled by whatever I am feeding it that day. When I feed it with the beauty of traveling to new or favorite places, I want to continue to go, leave. When I feed it with creating something new, I want to stay home for days on end and burn myself out with all the ideas. When I'm involved in a good book, I want to throw all electronics outside so I can simply exist in the text.

I've always enjoyed getting a little bit lost.

I'm in my glory!

What did I do on this amazingly beautiful Sunday snow day?  Besides venturing out for church, I holed myself up in my craft room and made things.  I was a slave to my sewing machine today to create glove deodorizers.

Seriously, one of my biggest hobbies of late is sewing.  Visiting a craft store is like being a kid at a candy store - this girl literally. can't. even.  I want to make all the things all the time and I talk about my ideas a LOT.

I also take a ridiculous amount of pictures of my dog.  Because every day she gets cuter and I have to document it.

This is her after watching The Walking Dead with me.  I don't blame her boredom; I struggled with the mid-season premier but I'm a true fan and I keep pushing along with the series, even if I don't understand the direction it's going in all the time.

Sure, I talk about my job because it's awesome.  I like talking about exercising and eating healthy.

But yesterday, I found myself chatting someone's ear off about how excited I was about the different types of vegetable seeds I purchased.  Not only that, I bought a book about small space gardening because I am SO PUMPED to dud out my little patio with veggies and berries.  I know I've been talking about this a lot.  I've been collecting things to organize this dream patio garden for the past couple of weeks.

Anyway, the seed/gardening conversation hit me ~ This is the type of woman I am at 33.  I like crafts, gardening, my dog, healthy living...these are my hobbies (among some other things).

When I was younger, I guess I felt more vibrant and interesting.  I was all about going out, taking the night by storm, dancing until the early hours, drinking myself stupid, taking risks.  I probably felt like I had a lot more to prove than I do now.  33 is very much like - well.  This is me.

Last night was Saturday night and I was home shortly after 7 p.m., chopping up vegetables for the chili I was taking to church this morning.  That was my Saturday night - in my pajamas with a friend, making chili, going to bed at a reasonable hour in horribly mismatched clothing.  We even talked about me blogging about this topic, because on top of all that, YES, I obviously also enjoy blogging.

This girl right here?  She's a WINNER!  And she is ME!  Take a number, everyone!

I like talking about things that I want to do in my future, what I want my future to look like - my future house, my future career path, how I imagine myself feeling, living, doing.

I talk about my church, the messages, and my Growth Group because it excites me and I want everyone to know about it.

I talk about things I've learned, mistakes I've made, successes I've had.

I guess it hit me last night that unless someone's on the same wavelength as I am - I am likely very, very dull.  The right kind of person will be interested in my gardening dreams, fascinated with talk and ideas of self-improvement, tolerant of my talk of creating things and will love FeeBee like I do.

A little demon named anxiety.

Last month in church we were encouraged to write down on a piece of paper the cycle we struggle with the most. A lot of people wrote anxiety and depression, as well as other things such as weight, dishonesty, addictions.

I don't keep it a secret that I struggle with anxiety and depression; I have off and on since I was a teenager.  Regular, intense exercise and a healthful diet are crucial for me to maintain my cool.

But I soooo feel it if I slack on the exercising part and I really have been, and since I have been ill, I haven't eaten as much as I normally would be.  With both of those things tossed by the wayside for the past 4 days...

Yeah.  So, this is the face of someone who's been spinning herself right out until...actually today.  I got some extra sleep, which is seriously the best medicine for a flu, and while I'm still not physically feeling 100%, I was able to realize what I was doing to myself.  I was letting the anxiety control me.  I was letting it create self-doubt in myself as a friend, employee, human being.

But seriously.  Enough is enough.  Letting myself continue to be a ball of anxiety just makes me sicker longer and it spreads into things it doesn't need to.  It makes small matters seem huge; it makes me feel out of control, cranky, unfocused and suspicious.  Those are not good feelings.  It makes me doubt the things people say to me and here's the thing - I can't control others words and actions toward me.  All I can control is me.  Letting my anxiety take over my day is letting my day run me and I'm pretty sure I'm in charge of my day.

I don't know about you, but I'd rather have a clear mind.  I'd rather be level-headed and able to make smart decisions and use good judgment.  I can't speak for others but my anxiety can really cloud all of that.  So I decided this morning that I really need to cut this sh*t out and give myself some air.   I have to say, I feel much better.  I wasn't able to always see when I was falling into this cycle and I'm actually kinda proud I was able to really see it today and say:  Enough is enough. You aren't being kind to yourself.

Unapologetically Alive - on my couch. With Pizza.

There are some days when you have grand plans and maybe about 3 things actually happen.

That was me Saturday.  I was going to be super productive; I was going to catch up on my sewing projects, meal plan for next week, go shopping and buy myself some new clothes, craft with a friend later...

Well, I made it to the grocery store. Without a list.  So, $140 later and I'm unsure what I bought besides cheese and a new lunch bag.

I also made it to my couch with a pizza.  Netflix and naps became my best friend on Saturday.  If this visual isn't the perfect picture of singledom, then I don't know what is.

It's 2 p.m.

Imagine me in my sweats, on a deep brown leather couch covered in crocheted blankets.  A plate of pizza on the vintage black musician's trunk that I use as a coffee table.  American Horror Story - Hotel - on in the background because I still can't seem to start a new series with as much gusto as I can re-start something I've already seen and loved.  The pizza is great but my stomach is kinda queasy.  Call it too much alcohol the day before after a hiatus from drinking all week.  I take bites here and there but what my body really needs is a nap.

So, I pause the show and roll over.  Doze with FeeBee.

And then at some point, my stomach growls.  I don't want to fully wake up so I just reach behind me with my left hand and grab a hold of my pizza and take a few bites, eyes still closed, and then put it back and go back to napping.  Imagine this happening a few times over the next hour or so.

Even if it's napping and eating pizza at the same time.

So, really - all the things I wanted to do didn't get done.  But I did hang up a new organizational basket in my kitchen.  Those of you who haven't seen my kitchen in person, it's really small and lime green!  I love it but it is a test in tiny-house living when it comes to organizing it to make it as functional as it can be.  I'm still getting used to that space and have yet to cook anything super complicated in it.

While I am in the fitness industry and maybe this whole post seems like a poor example of a healthy lifestyle, I am not regretful of yesterday's laziness.  It's not my norm; I'm not condoning the behavior nor condemning it.  Over the past week I had trouble sleeping - life's stress from all angles was taking over and taking a toll.  My body and mind simply needed a break.    Unapologetically alive - no regrets for blowing off the things you wanted to do, but doing the things you needed to do.

Moving on.

Around the time I moved into my own place, I had passed by an article online about how getting a divorce can alter all the relationships around you - some friendships will disappear, others will grow stronger; overall, things just change.  

I didn't let that worry me too much.  Life is going to unfold as it would and often the cause of suffering is holding on to things for too long that aren't meant to be held on to.  This was something I read in a book years ago that stuck with me.  Stop holding on, let go.  The emotions, the turmoil, the hurt - all of that is just temporary.

I've been in my own place over a month now and I can sense the shift.  There are some people who were in my inner circle who haven't checked in with me at all.  It's like divorce is a disease that they can catch if they associate with me.  

On the flip side, there are some people who were on the fringes of my life who surprised me, who came out of the woodwork and are now an integral part of my life.  People I can't imagine not being around, people I lean on and grown to absolutely love in a very short amount of time.

The relationships with my family are even different.  With my parents, we have spoken a lot more.  I've been more honest about my life and feelings that I've ever been with them.  The past couple of weeks we've talked less but I think that's because they are realizing that I am okay; I'm over a month into this new life and I've been steadily making headway.

The people I keep the closest and appreciate the most understand that I am going to have my times of feeling overwhelmed.  I don't think it matters if the separation from a partner is mutual or one-sided; it's still a lot of work to sort through the emotional and physical baggage.  I'm going to have my moments of planning all these social events and then cancelling all of them because manic phases only last for so long until one is simply worn out.  In all honestly, the past couple of weeks I've been on the go so much and I haven't been sleeping well. My fever blister on my lip is back and that's always been my sign to slow down, sleep more, stress less, and do exactly whatever it is I want to do at that time.

Now is the time for me to indulge in my hobbies.  Now is the time where I shouldn't have to explain to anyone why I do or don't want to do something. Now is the time where I shouldn't have to be accountable to anyone but myself.  To remember that no, I'm not the same girl who was married in 2014, I'm actually a better version.