In production.

Stay tune for upcoming blog posts

1. Life during deployment
2. A book recommendation
3. Baby this mama is crazy: car seat review
4. Goals and where we are headed
5. My role as a Daughter of God
6. TV show guilty pleasures
7. A new poem

*These blogs may come to be or not. Just depends on how lazy I am. :)

Life in the pain: Migraines

Hello my name is Alex and I have daily migraines.

My mother says before I could talk I would cry and point to my head. At a very early age I was prescribed horse size pills for my migraines. I was given special attention all through out my life, and there was even a point where I took advantage of the migraines. 

Elementary School

In Elementary School I literally passed out one time because I over excited myself playing a game of pictionary. I was 8 years old and went to the bathroom with my friend Rachel, and passed out in the stall. I don't remember passing out, I remember walking in and being really dizzy and then I was with the school nurse. If I felt a migraine coming on I would simply tell my teacher, go to the office take a pill, and sleep for about 30 minutes with an ice pack. I'd get up and go back to class, just a little bit loopy. By the time I was in 5th grade we had figured out some of my triggers. Low blood sugar was one of them and I had my own special snack drawer in my teachers office I was allowed to slip away to when I felt a migraine coming on. 

Middle School

By this time my migraines were so much a part of my life that I started to become accustomed to them. However they also increased, I missed a lot of school because of them. Not much to say here if I had one there wasn't a health office anymore to go to I would just call my mom or dad and they would come get me. 

High School 

It wasn't until High School that I allowed the migraines to control my life more and use them as a crutch. It was also in High School I was diagnosed with "Daily Migraines". Basically what it means is every day of my life I wake up in pain, I go to bed in pain, I work in pain, I live in pain. The pain ranges from a scale of 2-10 depending. But there is hardly ever a moment without pain. I envy people who are not in constant pain and I have even wondered if my pain is imaginative. The mind is a powerful tool and maybe I lived with migraines so long I can't live without them. Since I was in pain everyday sometimes dull, sharp, unbearable I allowed myself to make my illness a weakness. Because I missed so much school I was put on a 504 plan to accommodate me and my migraines. At first I thought it made me different but then I was like hey I get all of this extra time to do stuff, and I took advantage of it and that was wrong. I know it is wrong and I regret it. I used my migraines to get out of not only school, but the paper route, and other activities I really didn't want to do. My priorities were not straight and no one knew I was taking advantage of the pain. It got to the point though where the story of "The boy who cried wolf" comes to mind. Yes I was in pain daily was it full blown migraine pain no not necessarily but when it was I got no sympathy, and I made a mess of things. I didn't get out of doing homework they just postponed deadlines, which in the long run sucked because I had to spend time finishing old assignments before anything else which means no Church dances, cell phones, hanging out with friends, etc. I made it through High School with the migraines even if I allowed them to control me. 

Now

What I wouldn't give to be painless for more than 24hrs. What I wouldn't give to not have to medicate before an event I know will cause me pain. Last year at Thanksgiving I got a full blown migraine so bad all I could do was sleep and cry it sucked. I can't rough house with my family or play sports without either medicating before hand or after. I have literally been on every pill or potion, I've done physical therapy, acupuncture. I read my scriptures I say my prayers I do not believe for a moment God is punishing me. I believe that my migraines are one of my trials I will forever face in this life. A trial that at first made me weaker but now is making me stronger. I can't always medicate or properly prevent a full blown migraine because I don't have that luxury. But every once in a while medicated or not the pain subsides for a few hours. Life in the pain is painful but I do not let identify my as a person. Yes my head hurts, it is currently throbbing as I write this but I will go on living each day because even if it is painful life is worth living. 

If these tables could talk...

When my parents got a new table the graciously gave their old kitchen table the one I grew up with to us. In our most recent move we graciously received a newer kitchen table from my brother and sister in-law. I love my tables I love their character and the stories they tell.

The one from my in-laws still has stickers from several different moves in the military. If this table could talk I am sure it would tell wonderful stories of different states, and even countries.

The one from my parents has countless scratch marks, chips in painting, weird drawings my weird brother etched into the table (thanks Bud). As I sat down to do my homework today and my hand hit the table it made me stop and think about how many times I have sat down to this table and done my homework. For over 10 years I have sat down to this exact table and worked on homework. For over 10 years this table has been a part of my life. And if it could talk what memories would it share? Would it laugh and groan at the time the family was playing spoons and the intense game caused the table to collapse on itself as several people jumped to grab a spoon. Would it fondly speak of all the dinner time meals  it shared with family, and friends? Would it feel sad about all the missed family meal times?

I know this post seems silly, but I truly love these two tables because of the stories that have been imprinted on them, and the stories that will continue to be imprinted on them.

My Car Accident

January 1^st 2015.

At around 4pm in the evening I decided I would drive my parents Mercedes to their house to feed their cat, and just hang out with my kids. They were in Idaho dropping my little sister off at school. I fought with myself all day about going over there you can ask Sam I seriously was like I’m going, I’m not going. And I finally decided I would for sure go.

In order to leave I needed to install Blake’s car seat into my parents car. A couple months ago I purchased Blake a new car seat called the Click tight. I am terrible at installing car seats and this new car seat basically makes it really easy for me to install and is extremely safe. It was pricey but I felt it was worth it since I struggled with getting other car seats secure enough in the car. As I was installing the car seat into the car the thought went through my mind that I should just put Blake forward facing, technically he was old enough it was just a short trip to my parents, not that big of a deal. I shrugged the thought away and continued to install the car seat rear-facing. Seriously took like three minutes to get it secured. I then went and got my children and buckled them into their safety car seats. As I look back now I can remember slowly buckling each piece of the car seat with careful precision making sure none of the pesky straps folded, and that the chest piece was in the correct place. I waited for Josh parked behind me as he installed his car seats to their vehicle they had plans to go to his parents’ house. Josh moved the car and I was off.

I took my normal route down Hilyard to get to my parents’ house. This next part is very difficult for me to write because I am tired of reliving the situation, I am tired of the memories that are burned in my brain and I am hoping that if I can write it all out get it off my chest I will be able to let go of the fear, and pain.

The Accident Approximately 4:30pm

I had just passed the light right before the University Hospital, and was traveling about 25mph my next light was green and I maintained my speed. As I entered the intersection of Hilyard and East 11^th I realized the car traveling west on East 11^th was not stopping for their designated red light. Fear engulfed me as I put my foot on the brake trying to prevent a collision, and began honking the horn. The moments between seeing the vehicle and collided with said vehicle were so quick. All I had time to do was trying and stop and honk. In an instant I struck my driver’s side front end with their driver’s side rear end. Had that car been travelling just a little bit faster, had I been able to slow down just a little bit more we would have missed each other. The airbag deployed and because my right hand had been honking the horn it caused it to fly into the air and come in contact with the rearview mirror. I remember a loud crunch of metal, I remember Blake let out an annoyed cry, and I remember a pop and powder filled the inside of the car I remember my hand throbbing with pain. My adrenaline kicked in and my only thought was my children. I got out of my vehicle and began crying yelling “please, please, my babies, somebody help me!” Over and over again I pleaded with anyone, the air, God I begged for help. I held my arm close to my chest, and cried over and over again. It felt like people just stared out me in shock like no one knew what to do. Crap I didn’t even know what to do. I only knew I needed someone to help me and my children. Because the other vehicle had not even attempted to stop but maintained its speed he had driven further down the street. I remained in the intersection begging for help, from anyone. Finally people who must have heard the crash and my screaming came to my aid. Someone let me use their phone so I could call Sam. I was coherent the whole time of the crash but would have these random bits of hysteria where I would cry and ask for help for my children. The only number that came to mind was our house phone number I spouted out the number and Josh answered I tried talking but all that came out was “accident, please come, Hilyard street” a different lady took the phone from me and began to talk with Josh. After talking to Josh she comforted me and let me know my family, and ambulances were on their way. She helped me stay focused, and held me between my wandering back and forth to check on my children, and cry about the pain in my arm. I specifically remember saying to her “My arm it hurts, that is Braden and Blake, he will be 3 in March, and he turned 1 in October. He ran a red light who does that?” She watched me struggle with my brain chatter out loud, I saw tears in her eyes, I knew she was doing everything she could to comfort me. I admire her bravery her strength, I wish I got her name. I said to her I was so glad she was there, and that I won’t remember her name but I will never forget her. The ambulance and cops arrived along with Sam. My arm was the only thing injured and the boys were fine (thank you car seats!). The EMT’s asked what happened and I told them, and then the cop came and asked what happened I told him and his response was “He said you ran the red light.” I replied “I do not run red lights, I have my babies in the car and I would never put their lives at jeopardy like that.” The cop said there were no witnesses so there was nothing he could do. I have tried finding witnesses, I have contacted business up and down the street, I have asked Facebook, I have asked the news, but no witnesses. The claim has been given to the insurance and is under investigation so my mom says I no longer need to look for witnesses.

I Remember

 I clearly remember seeing the driver of the other vehicle breeze through that light without a care in the world I clearly remember him accelerating, not trying to stop; I clearly remember him and his passenger looking onward. I clearly remember seeing his vehicle for a while, but I did not realize he wasn’t stopping until it was too late. I clearly remember trying to stop, I clearly remember honking and thinking to myself “this idiot”, I clearly remember the panic, the pain, and the continual fear. The only thing I can do now though since it seems to be out of my hands is to utilize the Atonement of Christ and let it heal me. Let the comfort of the lord ease my pain and suffering. I have driven since the accident I drive with extra extra caution. Just because you consider yourself a good driver does not mean you will never get in an accident, other people are irresponsible drivers and your good driving will not always be able to protect you.

What I have learned.

Air bags smell so gross, and aren’t really as bad as some people say. Seatbelts save lives, properly installed car seats, and buckled children more than likely will walk away from an accident with these words “Grammie and Pop Pops car popped, and now it is broke.”-Braden. God is still good. I have not lost faith because a bad thing happened. I know I was blessed that the accident could have been much worse.

Now What

Now I am letting go of this moment in my life. I am no longer going to let it rule over me. I will try my best to not flinch when I hear a balloon pop, or tear up when I think of what happened. I am stronger than this and I am no longer going to let it darken my life.

*Oh yeah and this happened too

I keep reliving my accident because people keep asking. One detail that makes me laugh is this As I cried and pleaded with anyone to help me because of my babies in the car I soon found myself surrounded by a group a people checking on me and peeking in on my kids. I was coherent the whole time with moments of hysteria. In my moments of hysteria I would cry out "my babies, my babies!" Then I would remember to breathe and I would be okay. I had this overwhelming urge to curl up in the fetal position, and go to sleep. I believe my body was trying to shut down and escape reality; I fought it because of my children. In a moment of weakness I knew I just wanted to be held, comforted, my eyes searched for solace and settled on a tall man. I am sure he was a father. "Please, please hold me!" I flung myself in his arms and clung to him like Gollum clung to his precious. It was just a moment of relief amidst the chaos. It makes me laugh because I begged some strange man to hold me; I wonder what went through his mind?

The most intimate thing I miss.

My husband has been deployed for almost 100 days, and not lived in our home since June. Today I am going to get intimate with you and discuss intimacy.

My good friend Google defines intimacy as so: in·ti·ma·cy
ˈin(t)əməsē/
noun
noun: intimacy
close familiarity or friendship; closeness.
"the intimacy between a husband and wife"
synonyms: closeness, togetherness, affinity, rapport, attachment, familiarity, friendliness, friendship, amity, affection, warmth, confidence; informalchumminess
"the sisters reestablished their old intimacy"
a private cozy atmosphere.
"the room had a peaceful sense of intimacy about it"
an intimate act, especially sexual intercourse.
synonyms: sexual relations, (sexual) intercourse, sex, lovemaking; More
an intimate remark.
plural noun: intimacies
"here she was sitting swapping intimacies with a stranger"
closeness of observation or knowledge of a subject.
"he acquired an intimacy with Swahili literature"

Let us get to it and discuss which definition of intimacy I miss the most and believe to play a vital role in a relationship at least my relationship with my husband. 
close familiarity or friendship; closeness.
"the intimacy between a husband and wife"
synonyms: closeness, togetherness, affinity, rapport, attachment, familiarity, friendliness, friendship, amity, affection, warmth, confidence

You thought I was going to talk about physical intimacy didn't you? Nope I want to talk about the togetherness of intimacy. The act of laying in bed with your head on his chest, his heart beating your name and yours beats his. All the world around you vanishes and for a moment you feel you are quite possibly in a different dimension. Euphoria flows through as you breathe in sync. Troubles are lost, peace vibrates through the room. It is a spiritual experience that you don't want to spend with anyone else. Because that person your head is laying on he is your person, he gets you, loves you every step of the way, he knows when to just hold you, he knows how to comfort you keep your head above water in the storms of bad days. He gently leads you to your rightful place by his side. You are his queen, he would do anything for you and you for him. He is rooted in the gospel of Christ he understands that he wants you there with him to be received by the Lord and all his glory. He is what you miss, his intimate companionship.

I truly hoped I conveyed my feelings in a way that is understandable. You don't have to be physically intimate to be in an intimate relationship. I honestly can live without physical intimacy, it is the emotional intimacy I miss most.

That one time in college I cried...in front of my classmates

As many of you know(which is no one because seriously who reads this) I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latterday Saints "Mormon", I am also a college student. This term I took a class English 107 Intro to Early Literature. Our class included reading  the Hebrew Bible, The Ramayana(which I loved), Rumi, Sappho, Aristotle, Plato, The Tale of 1001 Nights (also loved), The Yang Poets(super loved), etc. It was all pretty ancient I mean thousands of years B.C. ancient. Like the first text ever written down kind of stuff. I say written down because oral stories have been around since the beginning.
Early on in our class my teacher let us know we would be given the opportunity to share a piece of literature with the class as a presentation. I jumped at the chance and thought what a great way to share The Book of Mormon. This class was a class based on fiction works, everything we read we read as if it were fictional. I knew going into my presentation that I was going to present the writings I felt to be true, as fictional if I chose to do my presentation on The Book of Mormon. The Book of Mormon is full of wonderful stories, and I wanted to share those stories even if it mean I was to share them as fiction.
I wrote my presentation proposal and got the go ahead from my teacher. She said as long as I understood my presentation would be to highlight the stories and that it would be considered as fictional it was okay. I understood what she wanted me to do and I began preparing. I was to give a brief history or summary of The Book of Mormon and choose one or two stories to share with the class. I didn't want my presentation to be too long so I narrowed it down to two stories and decided between the story of Enos, and the story of Ammon.

Day of my presentation

I was really nervous which is normal for me before a presentation. I went into class as prepared as I thought I could be. I began with my short history who, what where and when. This is Lehi he and his family left Jerusalem this is a record of the people in America. A showed one picture of Joseph Smith but asked told the class not to worry about him because he wasn't important he just translated the text later on. We were looking at the stories of the text which dates to before Christ. I decided to share Enos's story, and my favorite verses to highlight the way the text was written. We talked a little bit about Joseph Campbells ideas on Mythology and how we could draw connection from that with The Book of Mormon. I finished in the appropriate amount of time a short and sweet 10 minute presentation...but then

I asked Does Anyone Have Any Questions?

A hand shot up faster than one of Katniss's arrows. "I don't feel this an appropriate text for this class since Joseph Smith translated it in the 1800's. Also there is no proof of the Book of Mormon really existing. National Geographic doesn't even acknowledge it." (My teacher approved my proposal so therefore she made it appropriate.) My heart jumped to my throat and I replied "There is actually recent documentation of bones found that correlate with happenings of The Book of Mormon, and there is the witnesses." 

Bam another arrow shot at me "There is proof that Joseph Smith forged the Book of Abraham in The Book of Mormon.--" 

I interrupt "The book of Abraham?" 

"Yeah the book of Abraham." 

"There is no book of Abraham in The Book of Mormon."(It is in the pearl of great price and we know he took someone else's words it is called the Joseph Smith translation)

Back and forth these two individuals fed off of one another and ripped into me about the authenticity of The Book of Mormon.(Remember when I said this was a fiction class, and I was presenting it as fiction...I don't think they remember that.)

Finally after about 45 minutes of a one-sided debate my teacher chimed in "I let Alex do this project. Why is it the Western Religious writings cause so much heat?"

The Part that got me

"I felt like SHE was PREACHING at me." 

 We then spent another 10 minutes discussing why people get so upset over western religious stories but can read the Ramayana and feel fine. Did you know that people out there believe what happened in the Ramayana really happened, just like I believe what happened in The Book of Mormon really happened. What is truth to one, is a fictional story to others. Who draws the line? Is it black and white or a blurry grey area. It is most definitely a blurry grey area. 

"I felt like SHE was PREACHING at me." 

That right there you guys is what got me. I no way intended to go up there and preach to them, I only wanted to share stories I grew up listening too. I think it hurt so bad because it felt like it was a jab at my character. I am not a preacher, I do not push my beliefs on anyone. I have friends, family, who are not members of the church who have left the church, and I am open minded I love them just the way they are. I know as a disciple of Christ it is not my place to judge, as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ I know I am supposed to help spread the gospel, and that for me has never been by preaching. It isn't me, it has never been me, and it probably won't ever be me. And then...

I cried

Not because they were ripping my religion apart in front of me, trying to make me doubt, no I cried like a baby in front of a group of 25 college students because someone felt I was preaching to them. I sobbed and said "I am not that person, and I never intended to come off as preaching." Through ugly breaths of tears I apologized and unable to speak through the tears I took my seat. I sat through the remainder of class with tears streaming down my face as I thought about my public humiliation. I so badly wanted to get up and run out of class but I remained sniffling in my seat for the next hour of class. Two more presentations were given (appropriately 10 minutes long)  and finally class was over, I escaped quickly out the door and never looked back. I walked to my car, got inside of it and for the upteenth time I cried again like a baby. 

Looking Back

I feel like there are several things I could have done differently. One being when asked about Joseph Smith I could have politely responded "You know my presentation is just on the stories of the people of The Book of Mormon, if you would like to discuss Joseph Smith I will gladly talk with you after class."(Boom situation averted! Yay everyone claps) But no I didn't do that. I could have gone with bloody Ammon(pun intended) instead of prayerful Enos. The guys would have loved all the arms and gore. I didn't though and there is nothing I can do to change that. All I know is that it was an experience I hope to never live through again, also I am grateful for it to. It has taught me a lot about myself, others, and society too. 

Before My Frontal Lobe was fully developed.

Everything is falling beautifully into place. I finally decided on a major and I am beyond excited to see it all working out. I am going to be a Psychologist, I haven't decided if I will be a High School Psychologist or teach Psychology at college level. Either way I will major in Psychology and master in Education.
I have been learning the coolest things about the brain, and body you guys! It seriously is so cool!

I specifically want to talk about the frontal lobe and my experience with it. Below are a generalization of the roles each lobe plays.  

Studies show(expect to hear that a lot from me lol) that your Frontal lobe is not fully developed until you are about the age of 24. Also as you age specifically hit your 80's, 90's, your brain begins to revert to it's beginning stages in the frontal lobe. (kind of like Benjamin Button) Young Men seem to struggle a lot more with frontal lobe development than young women. However women are not exempt and now I will share several examples that prove my frontal lobe was not fully developed. It helps explain though why young men, and old people can sometimes be just a tad bit immature.Like that one time your grandpa hit on your best friend...I mean if that ever happened because it didn't. 

Instance number 1 The Runaway Teen

Once upon a time I was a frustrated 17 year old girl. Mad at the world I packed suitcases and decided it was time for me to run away. In the heat of the moment I made my move. I drug my suitcases to my car piled them in, and locked myself in the car. I sat here probably for about 45 minutes. Jordan(boyfriend at the time husband now) shows up and we proceed to have this conversation.

Jordan: You ran away?

Alex; YES!

Jordan: To your car?

Alex: YES!(obviously I was in the car!)

Jordan: To your broken down car in your parents driveway?

Alex: YES!!(did I fail to mention that I ran away to my car that was broken down in my parents driveway)

Jordan just laughed and walked into my house, later on my dad (the one who calmly tries to fix it) knocks lightly on the door, says something sensible I agree grabs my suitcases and rolls them into the house for me. 

Instance number 2 The Bookshelf

Once upon a time I bought a cheap bookshelf from Walmart. I wanted so badly to piece it all together myself. What began hopeful soon turned sour, I was so frustrated I swear I was doing everything right. Jordan(still boyfriend) knocked on my bedroom door and asked if I needed help. At this point I realized I had completely done it wrong and definitely  needed help...however my frontal lobe was like "Alex you got this. What you should do is grab everything soft and chuck it at Jordan he is the one messing you up." (everything soft because I didn't want to hurt him) Thus ensues a battle of flying monkeys, bears, and pillows Jordan dodged left and right and finally retreated. We both were in tears his from laughter mine from frustration. I sat in a pile of self defeat, then a soft knock at the door of course it is my Dad he says something sensible, I listen he comes in pieces the book shelf together and leaves me to decorating it happily. 

Instance number 3 The Fone

Man dealing with me before my frontal lobe was fully developed must have taken a lot of effort. Kudos to all who dealt with me! I didn't get my first cell phone until I was 15 years old and technically I had to share it with my 12 year old sister...which I considered bogus! I was on said phone, Jordan(sister) asked to have it. I replied No. A battle of words began back and forth we fought and my final sentence ended the fight...and began a fit of laughter. 

I yelled "IT'S MY PHONE! F-O-N-E! I SPELT IT RIGHT TOO!"

Silence....

More Silence...

"I spelt it wrong didn't I?"

Laughter Fit

I chose to highlight my funnier pre-frontal lobe development. Unfortunately I have sad stories that also show my lacking frontal lobe development. Let's just be happy! 

Wait there is more...

Instance number 4 The Game of Life...

Once upon a time I was at my best friend Danikas' house. We were playing the game of life, and I was doing pretty well. I was a doctor had a huge salary, kept landing on free handouts, I was flying hi. Then my best friend and other friend decided to play a trick on me. They both accused me of cheating, I swore I wasn't but they continued to say I was cheating and lying. Fully developed frontal lobe Alex would had laughed it off, and said it is just a silly game...that Alex wasn't there. The Alex that was there grabbed the game threw it up in the air yelling...no screaming "I am not a cheater!" She then ran outside barefoot into typical Oregon weather buckets of rain. I guess I could have walked home but my mom was inside where I just had my not fully developed frontal lobe meltdown. 

Dear Frontal Lobe, thanks for taking your sweet time developing. 

You and Me

 Look at me, really look please just see me.

You look at me in shades of grey when I have lost my way

You see me in yellow as my joy brings the sun’s rays

But I am always tinted in red.

Don't deny it you don't see just me you see red and it is screaming of infidelity.

You have watched me in green foaming with jealousy

And loved me in hues of pink

But always I am shadowed by red and it screams of my infidelity.

You have witnessed me in white gleaming with innocence

Watched me fight through my blackest days

But it is in red I will always stay,

Screaming my infidelities

Who has painted me this way?

You reply I see you for you

You see me in green dripping with Jealousy

You see me in blue a whirlwind of my past

In red I have fought my way

A muddy brown speaks of the miles we've come

But hues of green, dripping with Jealousy

Just see me

You and Me

Silence the whispers that paint us this way

You are the artist I am the key

Just see me

Silence

Jealousy

Infidelity

Silence

You and Me

Love is all we see

Where have all the Cowboys gone?

My mind sometimes wanders to the past, especially to my several failed relationships. Five to be exact, I am not as crazy as some of you think. For the longest time I fought myself, I didn't want to accept the fact that a part of me had loved any part of them. I was embarrassed, ashamed that things didn't work out.
Don't get me wrong I am madly in love with Jordan. I am happy he is my husband, and grateful he is mine for eternity. It is hard though to forget the past because I always feel there is something wrong with me and that is why my relationships failed. I am having a hard time letting it go I need to know why, or what I did wrong.
I am going to pause now take a deep breath and look at this differently.
We will refer to my failed relationships as FR.
The first thing I need to do obviously after breathing is accept the fact that some part of me loved FR, and because I am human and have a heart that part of me will always care about FR. I do not need to obsess over the reason/reasons why FR and I did not last. Instead I want to look at the time we shared with happiness, and not regret. Regret is such a heavy emotion it is something I don't need in my life. As I grow older unfortunately I find it easier to pinpoint moments in my life of immaturity. Said immature moments caused me to behave in ways I hope I never repeat.
I want to talk about the part of me that cares for FR. That does not mean I dote on them, and hope they dote on me. It means I wish them happiness in all areas of there life. It means I want them to be successful, to have families, to love and be loved. I would hope if ever they think of me they wish the same things for me.
The hardest part at failed relationships is the loss of the friend not the boyfriend. It is very difficult but possible to remain friends after a failed relationship. You wish you could go back and save yourself  from the pain of losing them, but you can't. You can only move forward. Understand this nothing will be the same, it will never go back to how it was.
So what do you do with that? You take a deep breath, accept it, let it go, and move on.
Why? Because you know they are happy, they are loved. Also you have a super hot army man that chose you to be his wife, and mother of his children. You wouldn't change any part of the past because the past made you the person yoy are today. You are grateful for all aspects of the relationship the beginning and the end. You are grateful because it gave you knowledge, you are a better person because of it. You are happy, you are loved, and when you think of FR you smile at the memories, and lessons learned. You are going to be okay.

I am not okay

October 26th 2014

Often I find people asking me if I am okay. I smile and say "Yes I am okay." In reality I am not okay. Most days I am barely making it. I know my situation could be worse. I know I have amazing support, but it is a struggle for me to function in his absence. A constant battle to be happy. I am not okay, but I am trying. I am not okay but for the most part I try to be okay. I don't want to be a martyr. I don't want pity. Truth I want my husband home so we can argue about silly things so he can kiss me goodbye, so we can hold hands, watch Sherlock, raise our children together. So he can laugh at my strange sense of humor so I can get lost in his eyes. 

I know as much as I want him home he wants to be here. I have to be fragile, take care of him, I need him focused, I need him assured, if there is any amount of doubt in his mind, that doubt could lead to a mistake a deadly mistake. I can't risk that. I have to keep him safe, me safe, the boys safe. How do I protect everyone when I can't even protect myself? How do I comfort them when I need comfort? How can I be their Savior? I can't. I am not alone, the Lord is on my side he is our Savior. He is the anchor, the calm in the storm. He has felt this pain, he walks in our shoes, he understands the ache in my soul. He will guide us all safely home. I am not okay but through the atonement of Jesus Christ I will be okay.

With Love, 

Alexandria 

It's Where my Demons Hide

It catches me off guard
The deep sadness that is your absence
Engulfs me in a dark flame
I scream but no one hears your name
Why can't it be different? 
Why can't you be here?
The smile etched across my face
It twitches slightly as I lose my grip
I am painfully silent
But that tear will slip
I hate this heartache that's been sent
The fire it burns but the water it drowns
Mask, mask, masquerade
Play it safe, keep it close
Breathe it in and push it down
Find a beat
Thump...thump..?...thump
It's there can't you see an irregularity
Darkness, light, sadness, hope
Wash, rinse, repeat
On the pyre I find the peace
Now I sleep...

Grace

There is an aching in my soul
A deep pain that I think no one else can know
I am alone, afraid, and I hurt
The despair chains me from the ankle
I fight to free myself, I search for a way
It is through his grace
Grace that lifts my burdens
Grace that heals my heart
Grace dries my tears, grace conquers my fears
I have wondered times if he has forgot, forgot me in my pain
I look back and see
That it was his grace that carried me
Grace answers for my sins
Grace forgives, grace forgets
When the world is ignorant to my pain
When the shadow has overcome the light
It is in his arms weeping I will stay the night
He will defend my soul
He has carried out my sentence
They hung him on a cross
They cursed his name, pierced his body
I cannot imagine the pain he felt
He did not have to drink from the bitter cup
The choice was his he could of said enough
But he died for me
For my children, for you, for all mankind
And for that I am forever grateful and indebted
My pain still comes
The sacrifice forgotten
With humility I always remember
And with his Grace he always forgives

Everyone remembers nothing is erased

I want you gone
It is unfair
It is wrong
You shouldn't be allowed to hold me like this
I shouldn't still taste your kiss
Leave me be with the shadows you left
Don't pull me in for a second of hope
I read to deeply, I see too much
It aches, it scars, it hurts
You said it was love
That I was your only
Mi Amour you spoke
Lies, deception
Days to months, months to years
I still question, wonder at you
I remember everything
Do you?
Do you remember what you promised me?
Do you remember stealing a kiss?
Hours in each others arms
You were so good at leaving
But a part of you has stayed
Do you see me?
Is there a small part of you that wonders?
Why won't you set me free
Set me free from your chains
Please
Everyone remembers nothing is erased
There is always a price
When will ours be paid
Let me go
Lay the ribbon to rest

Mon Âme

The Moon to the tide
He pulls on me
The Willow in the wind
Bonded for eternity
If his heart breaks
Mine as well will ache
It is not dependency
But souls intertwined as one
He is my heart, he is my reason,
The thing that keeps me breathing
If he is the thunder, I am the lightening
He is the better half of me
I thought I knew love before him
I thought I could love after him
But true love was always back to him
It was and will always be him
Wolf to the Moon he calls to me
Sand to the Sea
Always, always part of me.

Into the Madness

                            

Into the Madness

I am on a Journey

And I seemed to have lost my way

The fog it thickens

My mind wanders

Is it night or could it be

Day?

The path is worn 

But the wilderness is overgrown

Like lace across my face

The cobweb sticks

Ophelia, Ophelia

I laugh and the abyss responds

My gentle Love takes my hand 

I dance spinning round and round

The dandelions begin to flutter

Stars twinkle their eyes

Alice, Alice

Darkness envelops me

I relish in it's escape

I am crazed, Ha crazed

Find me an answer, Find me the one

The girl is tortured let's have some fun

Bellatrix, Bellatrix

I allow myself to be taken up into the Madness

For the moment the character is more enjoyable than the pain

I get them, I understand their story

Behind the craze there is a face

Behind the face there is a heart

At the heart is where it all will start

I love the Madness I find it beautiful, eloquent almost

I love the beauty

In the mirror I see

In them I find a little part of me

I am Ophelia heartbroken, I am Alice imaginative, I am Bellatrix misguided. I am me, I am them, where does it start? Right where it will end. 

Musical Monday: The Civil Wars

Today introduces my first Musical Monday. Every Monday that I remember to post I will share a band that I enjoy listening to. Some bands may be widely known, while others you may have never heard of. Either way I hope you enjoy. Also feel free to post new bands for me to check out in the comments below. I love music, and finding new bands.
My first Musical Monday spotlight is going to be The Civil Wars. I first listened to The Civil Wars in 2011, the sang back up for Taylor Swifts song Safe and Sound featured on the Hunger Games soundtrack. The Civil Wars began playing together in 2009 they reached a career high in 2012 when they were nominated and won two Grammy's. I instantly purchased their album after listening to them perform Poison and Wine.

Not only did I like their sound, but I also appreciate their lyrics. I think they are beautifully written, and really speak the truth. It also is a major plus that the male lead vocalist totally looks like he could be Johnny Depp's brother. They also do a couple songs in french that are beautiful. I love their voices, I find them soothing and extremely beautiful. I hope to hear more and more from The Civil Wars!

I am Poem

I did something a little different today an I am poem. We did these in High School and I really enjoyed it. My High School one is a lot different than the one I wrote today. I encourage you to do your own "I Am" poem it is fun. I think I will do one every year and see what parts of me change and what parts are constant. The I Am poem I did today I got from a template here is the link if you would like to do it. And please if you are comfortable share below in the comments your poem I would love to read it. You could even post anonymously! 

I Am

I am mother, daughter, sister, lover, friend
I wonder if I am raising them right
I hear the cries and laughter of my children
I see smiles, and frustration wrapped up in one
I want him not to leave
I am mother, daughter, sister, lover, friend

I pretend I am a Mudblood of Harry Potter
I feel the heaviness of the fog
I touch a melody as it passes through the air
I worry he wont come home
I cry about being alone
I am mother, daughter, sister, lover, friend

I understand the gospel of Christ
I say I am a daughter of God
I dream seeing my children grow
I try to be the best person I can be
I hope I am making them proud
I am mother, daughter, sister, lover, friend

For Safety, for safety

No one I can talk to

 No one to understand

 So I will become a chest

 Full of secrets and treasures

 As my ship sails out my anchor will fail

 I will take it all to the watery grave

 Don't wonder I ask

 Don't question

 I cannot say

 I cannot whisper

 All is heard

 Leave me be in the chains that bind me

 It is not what I want but what I need

 If I could I would let you in

 I would try and swim

 But remember it is my burden alone

 For safety, for safety

 I will sink the chest while the ship has sailed

 For safety, for safety

I dreamed a dream...

I have always been a very vivid dreamer. I dream at least three times a night and I always remember them. They play over and over in my mind sometimes I can’t put them in to words but they are always there in my mind. They are not always good dreams, sometimes the dreams are nightmares. Sometimes I dream of the past; of people I loved, people I still love, but they are people I have lost. It does not mean they have died, but they are lost to me now. Sometimes I dream of those who have passed as well. It hurts because my heart longs for them, but my head knows it is only a dream. Still I cherish those brief moments that seem like minutes but are probably hours.

There are some people who don’t dream or they dream but don’t remember it, I am actually quite envious of them. My husband is one of those people. There have been countless nights I have woke him up and asked him to go check to make sure the door is locked because I had a bad dream. I ask him as I lay in his arms my heart racing the shivers of fear slowly dying down, “Do you dream? Are they bad dreams?” his sleepy reply “No, I don’t remember my dreams. Go back to sleep it was only a dream.”

That horrid phrase “It was only just a dream.” Just a dream it felt real and sometimes dreams become our realities though. Such as I dreamt of becoming a Mom and I am one. Where do you draw the line between the two? What dreams are just dreams? And what dreams become realities? I have to stop myself sometimes from diving to deeply into the interpretation of my dreams. I think because the line between the two is so blurry. If you let yourself get carried away by the dreams you could be lost forever to not living. If you let paranoia take over you begin to quit living your life. I dreamt of a black cat therefore I am not leaving the house today. Dream interpretation is so very complicated; I think that if the dream is supposed to mean something it will eventually make sense.

Have you ever dreamt something and the very next day it happened? One night I dreamt that my families Suburban had been broken into, the people tried coming after me but I was able to get away. Come to find out the next day the Suburban really had been broken into. After my uncle died I dreamt of him. I remember it to this day. He was in a shack like house and told me to tell everyone that he was at peace. He then asked me to go get my dad so he could talk to him. I don’t know what he said to my dad I just know in the dream my dad went in the house and they talked for a long time.

I think one of the scary things about dreams is we feel we are not in control. I mentioned to a co-worker last summer as Jordan was away at annual training that I was having nightmares on repeat. He mentioned that he had suffered from nightmares and suggested the idea of lucid dreaming. And so began my journey of controlling the dreams. It doesn’t always work but sometimes I am able to realize I am dreaming and manipulate the dream to my desire. Most of the time though once I realize I am dreaming it causes an Inception sort of effect and my dream world collapses in on itself.

I began writing this post earlier this week and just got back to it. The funny thing about this is the night after I started writing this I woke up to my husband yelling in his sleep. I shook him awake and he fell right back to sleep. The next morning I asked him if he remembered his dreams from the night before. He said he remembered two of them and they were both bad dreams.

The dream world is such a confusing one, and I have many questions about it. I hate and love that I remember my dreams, and that I dream so vividly. It is such a complicated relationship to have. One day I am sure to have all the answers to dreams, but until then I’ll keep on dreaming.