Weekend with the Kid

Tonight, I told my son it was bedtime and he got super happy.

I picked him up and took him to the room to change his diaper and put on lotion. As I started to comb his hair, he said, “ow.” He says it every time I comb his hair now. Not because it hurts but because somehow he learned it might make us stop. But he has really pretty hair and I try to keep it that way.

The pillow weren’t in the room so I told him to get the pillows and I’d grab a bottle. He didn’t quite understand at first so we walked out to the living room and I pointed at the pillows. He giggled and said, “pillows.” He picked them up and as I poured him some milk he dragged them back to the room. I followed him as he dragged the last pillow in and threw it on the bed. I then rearranged them and helped lift him into bed.

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Remember We Die

Remember We Die by Gemini Syndrome

Music is important in my life.

As a teenager, I used music to reach out and get help. As an adult, I’ve relied on music to keep me going. So it was really difficult when I joined the Mormon church and was faced with trying to find a balance between something that had, quite literally kept me alive, and a culture that was asking me to give up certain types of music.

At first, I felt strongly that I needed to really look at my relationship with music and recognize that certain things really worked to only bring me down. But like a good convert I decided it was best to literally destroy my music collection and try to do with out.

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Music inspires unrelated thoughts

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Song lyrics by A Perfect Circle

I’ve shared a bit about the day my former spouse kicked me out.

But I’d like to revisit that day for second.

That morning was like any other we’d had at the time. Tension and distrust was in the air.

I had been contemplating our move to Idaho. I was supposed to attend BYU-Idaho and that meant moving together despite the fact that we couldn’t stand even being in the same room as each other.

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Missing My Son

When Levi was born, I was so afraid to touch him.

Prior to his birth, I rarely held babies and really did my best to avoid interacting with children. I always felt so uncomfortable around them.

I remember seeing him lying on the table as they cleaned him up. I could hear him crying and I really had no idea what to do. Luckily the nurse could see my deer-in-the-headlights expression and was quick to suggest I take a picture to kind of keep me grounded.

Now, there are days when I come home and I see his things and I know that despite his toys, clothes and bed being here, he won’t be. And it kills me.

On the days where I drop him off at his mom’s, knowing it will be at the very least two days before I see him again, it takes everything for me not to cry. Most of the time I say my goodbyes and then rush back to my car and focus on getting to work. Then when I get home and see his things, I either immediately find something to do or I binge Netflix until the urge to cry passes.

It’s so hard to not see him everyday.

I miss his laughs and his hugs. I hate knowing that when I see him again, I will have missed out on so much. He’ll have learned something new and I won’t know about it until he does it. (His mom doesn’t communicate anything with me)

I just wanted so much more for him. Having a father who abandoned my mom and I, I really wanted so much more for my children.

It never crossed my mind that we’d find ourselves where we are now. I really expected so much more out of my marriage. And yet some how, the burden of it’s failure still ends up laying on my shoulders.

I’d give anything to know I’d see my son everyday. That I could put him to bed every night and here his voice every morning.

He deserves so much more and I just hate myself for how much I’ve let him down.

If there is one thing I try to survive everyday, it’s knowing that I can’t give my son his family.

Somethings Just Not Right

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I had promised this post about a month ago… sorry for the delay.

I’ve had this one on my mind for a few weeks now. It’s one of the three I’ve had on repeat  this summer. This image came up in my memories today and after some quick editing I had just an image of me.

This is me, more happy and comfortable then I’d been in years. At the time, my life seemed to be headed somewhere amazing. It would ultimately be a two-year disaster that left me with almost nothing. 

I guess it’s been a week of serious reflection and I really would love to be this person again.

I wrote the above text back in July.

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Update: State of My Head

I’ve been pretty open about my experience with depression.

Since mid-July, I’ve stepped away from writing for a bit to focus on the mess that is my life. For whatever reason, I thought there were to many distractions and I was afraid things were getting out of control.

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Hope for Humanity: The Mailroom

I run an online shop through Etsy. I paint wooden decor for fun and on occasion, I use a local business to ship my items instead of going to the Post Office.

It isn’t convenient. In fact, it takes twice as long unless I am already on that side of town, which is rare. So, why do I go there?

Today, when I walked in, there wasn’t anyone standing behind the desk. Normally, service there is quite quick and so while surprised, I didn’t mind waiting. When the employee did appear, he was very kind and engaging.

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