Dragon’s Horde 059: First Mandala

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Shortly before my surgery for thyroid cancer, one of my patients gave me a giant bag full of goodies. It was a care package to help me get through the initial days of recovery. There were all sorts of snacks and cat toys. There was also a coloring book with a set of color pencils.

The first few days after surgery were rough. I didn’t do much. Gradually I got used to the fact that I had an incision on my throat, that I no longer had an organ controlling some of my body’s most vital functions, and that while I still had a lift restriction I wasn’t as helpless as I thought I would be.

A day came where I finally felt like coloring. I wanted to do something creative, relaxing. I wanted to use the gift I had been so selflessly given. This mandala is the first one I have completed. It was comforting to go back to something I used to enjoy; to let myself get lost in the colors and the process of discovering what I wanted the image to be.

The first picture is a WIP I took. The second is the completed image.

Daily Post 200: Surviving Friday

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So I haven’t written in a few days and that’s mostly because Friday was such a hellacious day at work that it’s taken me this long to recover.

Friday started out amazing. It was the 14th. I’m not super into Valentine’s day, but February 14th was my first full day in Nebraska. It’s the day Ox and I agreed to be our anniversary because it was the start of us being together. So, regardless of it being Valentine’s day, the 14th is an important day for both of us.

My day started with waking up at 2 am like normal to take my Synthroid. When I went to the restroom there was a card on the sink counter; a card from Ox. I opened to see a glitter Valentine’s day card saying, “Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you!” Opening the card showed the response, “Oh yeah, now I remember. You put up with me!”

It really was the perfect card. We both ask each other that question all the time. “Why do you put up with me?”

There was a handwritten message below the printed one.

Ox: It also helps that you are so beautiful, smart, funny and strong. Along with so many other things too numerous to list. I love you, Jennifer. Happy Valentine’s day and 2 year anniversary. xoxo

I was nearly in tears and I crawled back into bed and hugged Ox as he slept. It was such a nice surprise. I wasn’t expecting anything. I’m not into gifts. We hadn’t talked about getting each other anything. It was just another day that ended in “y”. But no. It WAS, IS, a special day and I got something special to make it special.

When Ox woke up I hugged and thanked him for my card. He said he had found it weeks ago as he was walking through Walmart and had to get it and he had to wait this whole time to be able to give it to me. I can only imagine how hard it was to keep it that long, waiting to see my reaction.

It was a nice way to start the day. There was no indication of the hell I was about to go through. Work even started fine. I got my paperwork signed so I didn’t have that looming over me. The only thing left was to put it in the mail so I could get a date set for taking the test. I paid bills, too, because I was all gung-ho about being a productive adult.

My Brain: Yeah! Let’s conquer the day!
Universe: Hold my beer…

It wasn’t until change over started that shit hit the fan. Our first three patients had low standing blood pressure for roughly 40 minutes each. Since they drive to their treatment, we legally cannot let them leave until their pressure is within a certain range. It sucked. Hardcore. Words can’t express the level of suckage the rest of the day was. The RN and I did the best we could, but when you’re running 40 minutes behind there’s really not much you can do. : /

I was so beat up mentally by the time the day was done. I don’t really remember what I did after getting off work. I put my CCHT papers in an envelope and got it ready to be sent out. I think I started creating a “bag of tricks” sheet for the item my D&D character is using. I didn’t do a whole lot with it though. The mental effort wasn’t worth it. I do know that I went to bed praying that Saturday was a better day.

It was, thankfully. Quiet. Smooth. Nothing crazy. No low blood pressures. I was still dead on the inside, though, so it didn’t matter that the day was good. My goal was to survive and I did. Mission accomplished. Nothing extra. No to-do list to make me feel guilty. Nothing to accomplish after work other than not being at work. No socializing. No obligations. Nothing other than silence both inside my head and outside of it around me.

I did end up filling out a loan application with my bank since Jon is going to be moving to Nebraska. More on that later. The process took longer than I felt it should have since some of their instructions were unclear. I had to talk to a lady on the phone. She was extremely pleasant and helped me find the correct forms to upload. I also talked to a realtor about a house and set up a viewing of the property. I colored for a bit, wondering why I was so tied before realizing that, oh yeah, it’s because it’s 7 and that’s my bedtime.

I packed up my color pencils and went to bed with the knowledge that Sunday was a blessed day off and that for the next 24 hours I didn’t have to care about blood pressures or flipping stations fast enough for the next shift of patients.

Sunday was pretty low key. I went about my morning routine. I’m starting to find comfort in it. There’s a flow to my mornings now that wasn’t there before. There’s a pace that helps me gear up for the day. Eventually, I was ready to make an attempt at being productive.

I started by tackling the bedroom. I worked up a bit of a sweat doing it but by the end, the bed was made, the floors were swept, and the kittens had a billion toys returned to them from the random hiding places they’ve been finding to stash them.

I spent the vast majority of the day coloring. Ox and I talked a few times. When I mentioned how I hadn’t really been doing much, he encouraged me to take it easy.

Ox: You don’t get many days like this. Enjoy it.

I didn’t have school work to do. The chores were mostly done. Could I do more? Yeah. We could always be doing more. But at what point do you say it’s good enough and take some time for yourself?

That’s what Sunday was. I took a nap in the sunlight with the kittens. I made a lot of progress on my project. I actually relaxed instead of giving myself shit for not going to the gym or doing any of the other things that could have gotten done. It was a nice day and the start of my recovery from the day that was Friday.

I finished my “bag of tricks” sheets and got them printed. I even put the pages in my D&D binder. I went through the pictures on my phone and cleaned out all of the memes I’ve downloaded for text message replies since I live my life through memes. I also made a level two character sheet since our characters are most likely going to level up during our next session. I took the spell Inflict Wounds. I may be a cleric but you definitely don’t want to piss my character off. I will end you. XD

That was pretty much all of Sunday. Nice and slowly productive on things that I actually wanted to personally work on. Very much a “me” day and I think I benefited from it.

That brings us to yesterday. Monday. Another workday.

Ox and I met in the morning. I didn’t want to go to work. I was tired. I was sore. My feet hurt still. I didn’t want to do it. At all. ;-;

I trudged off to work, promising Ox that I would drive safely and that I would try to have a good day.

The day went well. Much smoother than Friday. No low blood pressures this time. My RN and I kicked serious ass. We ended up closing the clinic 30 minutes after our last patient’s treatment ended. We’re given an hour to do it, so us closing up 30 minutes “early” put us in the green as far as their calculations for labor go.

My Brain: Hell yeah! Go Team Awesome!

I drove home. I stopped at the gas station since I was running too low on gas to make it to school the next day. I picked up cigarettes for Ox and myself. I even bought a car wash while I was there. My back window was grungy. I had thought to just wash the window then thought… what the hell. Let’s get the whole thing washed.

Yeah. That’s how ok I was feeling. Went to work and can still do stuff like a badass. /flex

I stopped at the house to see Ox for a bit. Monday night is raid night for him so I wasn’t planning on staying long. Jon called while I was there so I talked to him for a bit. We talked about him withdrawing from school and what that would mean. I told him that only he could say what it meant for him. If other people thought it was a failure then they could go fuck themselves because they’re not the ones living his life. Only he could make the choices that were right for him.

I had been starving on the drive home. Seriously, the stirring wheel was looking tasty. While I was in the middle of raiding the fridge for any and all leftovers, I got a call from my FA.

An issue was brought to her attention that she needed to address with me. The nurses were making comments about how I have been coloring at the nurses desk during downtime.

First off… What the hell guys? We’ve been killing it during the days that I work since I’ve been back from surgery. What the fuck? Secondly, if you have an issue with it, why didn’t you feel like you could say something to me personally? It’s not like I’m an unreasonable bitch who can’t be talked to. : /

My FA said her first response to the comments was, “Is she still taking care of the machines when they alarm?”

Nurse: Well, yeah.
FA: Ok.

Essentially, the nurses couldn’t say that I am slacking on my duties or doing anything wrong. In fact, I’m doing everything right. They just don’t like the fact that I’m not “working”. I would like to take a moment that I don’t think it’s both nurses. I think it’s one specifically.

My FA said she understood that coloring right now is a coping mechanism for me. The 19th is almost here. I’ve been waiting for this day. I’ll finally get answers. I’ll finally know the next steps and how my endocrinologist wants to handle my situation. I’ll know if my meds are right. I’ll know how fucked I am for the future. I’ll know what I need to do in regards to school if I have to be hospitalized. I’ll finally know what chaos is in my future and how it’s going to interfere with the peace and calm that I’ve been so hesitant to enjoy.

I know I haven’t written a whole lot about it and maybe I should have delved more into this side of my life. I did mention how I felt like this era of calm wouldn’t last and that I’m about to enter another stormy, uncertain time. I’ve been holding my breath, waiting, because there isn’t anything else for me to do but I hate waiting and I’m not good at it so what can I do other than smoke a million cigarettes to get me through until I know what’s going on?

I told my FA that coloring has been helping me with those feelings. During the downtime at work, if there is any, once all my tasks are done and vitals are caught up and there’s literally nothing to do except wait for treatments to end, I’ve been coloring because my other options are to go outside and smoke or sit and stew inside my own head. It keeps those feelings in check. It gives me a way to wonder through my mind without getting lost or sad or feeling like I have no control over what’s going on.

My Brain: I still have cancer, but you know what, I really think this section would look good with another layer of purple. Let’s do it. It’s ok to have cancer. I can still make pretty things while having cancer. Cancer isn’t the end of my life. Things will be ok. Things are ok. Oh, my alarm is going off. Our first treatment is about to end so let me put this aside for now and go prep for change over.

She understood where I was coming from. She said she was actually glad I had found something to help me be mentally and emotionally ok. She said that since the patients are taken care of she doesn’t care if I color or not. She said she needed me to be ok more than she needed the nurses to be happy. I do good work. If the nurses want to be catty that’s on them. I still answer the alarms. I still chart when it’s supposed to be done. I’m not sitting behind the desk while things need to be taken care of, ignoring my duties so in her mind there isn’t an issue.

She said as a manager, she had an obligation to bring up the topic with me. So, she called. We talked about it. End of story.

I told her I was sorry for causing friction within our team. That wasn’t my intention. Maybe if I get a chance to talk to her again I can ask why the nurse(s) didn’t feel like they could talk to me. Why did this issue have to be a secret conversation with my boss? Why couldn’t we have been adults and talked to each other about an issue?

My FA said during her conversation she told the nurse(s) that we needed to get through the 19th. She thinks I’ll feel better once I have answers. I hope I do. I don’t like not knowing what’s going on with my life. And even when I do finally know what we’re going to be doing, it’s not like I have much of a choice. It’s more like I’m being dictated to.

Dr: This is what you need to do so you don’t die. What do you want to do?

My Brain: Talk about choice paralysis. How am I supposed to make a decision with some many outstanding options? Well… since I’m not really on board with the whole dying thing… I guess lets go with the staying alive thing…

So yeah. I wasn’t expecting to have a conversation like that with my boss, but I’m glad I have her support and I’m glad that she understood me and defended me when other people wanted to assume untrue things.

FA: You don’t complain. You are a quiet person and you keep your personal troubles to yourself. Just because you’re not complaining doesn’t mean you’re ok. Other people need to imagine what it’s like to be in your shoes.

Warm fuzzy feelings. I appreciated my conversation with her and it made everything feel worth it. Staying with the company, moving to Nebraska, all of it. I have an amazing boss. Not everyone can say that and so I’m grateful.

Not a whole lot happened the rest of the night. I ended up being at the house when Mama Ox came home with groceries so I helped carry them inside. I went to the apartment shortly after that. I colored more. I went to bed. Ox came over. There was mind-blowing, amazing sexy time followed by a night of deep, restful sleep.

This morning has been off to a nice start. It’s sunny which helps. I’ve found a few more postings for houses. The new ones I showed Jon are rent to own and they allow pets since he now has a dog and I have the kittens. The properties are a bit further away then I would like, but they’re nice. I sent messages to see about viewing the inside of them. We’ll see where that goes.

Aside from that, I’ve written. Hooray. I need to shower and get ready for school. Ox and I have plans to meet up and do the grocery shopping. I’m looking forward to today and the next two… ish… Not really looking forward to my appointment, but I don’t have to be at work, so there’s that. Maybe I can finish recovering from Friday.

Musing Moment 139: Kicking Kevin’s Ass

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Written and posted to Facefail Thanksgiving day

Monday, November 25th, after working a 12 hour shift at work, I received a phone call from my Endocrinologist. My biopsy came back positive for papillary thyroid cancer.

Firstly, I want to say that I have done my best to reach out to as many people as I could personally. If this is the first you are hearing of my diagnosis, please know that you were not forgotten or thought of as unimportant in my life. I care for everyone on my Facebook deeply and you are important to me.

Secondly, though I know it may seem counter-intuitive to post such news on Thanksgiving, I want to say that I am exceedingly grateful.

I am grateful for the outstanding care I have received from my primary care physician. Because of her, we found my cancer fairly early and are able to take the required steps for proper treatment.

I am grateful for the support and empathy of my teammates. Not only have they been my rocks while going through nursing school, they continue to stand by me as I begin the process of scheduling surgery.

I am grateful for the diagnosis itself. As far as “bad news” goes, being diagnosed with papillary thyroid cancer is pretty much the best bad news you can get. My prognosis is extremely positive and I am fortunate enough to know several people who have gone through this exact experience firsthand, including mom. Knowing other people in my life were badass enough to not only survive, but thrive, makes the big, scary “C” word seem less overwhelming and scary. If such inspiring people in my life were able to get through this, so can I.

And lastly, I cannot put into words how grateful I am for the support, love, and compassion I have received from family and friends. Not only did you guys listen to me drop a massive bombshell on you, every single one of you took the time to ask how I am doing; emotionally, mentally. You all have let me know that I’m not a burden and that if I need anything that you’re there for me through thick and thin. I am beyond grateful for the army of support I have going into this experience and because of you, all of you, I don’t feel as alone or vulnerable as I did Monday night.

One particular person gave me some interesting advice. She mentioned that naming my cancer could help make the situation more manageable rather than leaving it simply as “thyroid cancer”. So I have decided to name “it” Kevin (no offense to any Kevins out there…). Kevin’s a jerk and we’re all going to kick his ass because we’re awesome and we don’t take shit from nobody.

So, yes. It’s Thanksgiving and I’ve been diagnosed with cancer and I’m grateful. Thank you, all of you, for being awesome and amazing and for being a part of my life. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. We got this. : )

Daily Post 158: Saturday Burnout

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Writing from Saturday morning:


Work wasn’t awful yesterday. My FA was there for a bit in the morning but then had to leave to attend meetings in Lincoln. That left me with Float RN and New RN. We got everyone through their treatments and the clinic closed down on time. Go us!

I was dead by the time I got home. Sadly, the kids are here this weekend, so going to bed early wasn’t an option. I did crawl into bed with the lights off, but the TV in the living room was on and I could hear it. The kids kept running in and out of the rooms and chatting and being kids. It’s one of the pieces of friction with the home situation. I’m not able to have the solitude and quietness away from people when I need it, and yesterday and this morning were definitely times where I needed it.

I didn’t sleep well last night. I think I’m starting to fight off a cold again. I was congested for most of the night. I woke up several times even with using the Vix Vapor thingy we have in the room.

When I finally gave up on sleeping this morning, everyone was already up. The thought of having to cook breakfast and dealing with people being under my feet while I tried to do stuff or answering questions and just in general interacting with anything living that wasn’t a cat sucked. It all felt heavy. And that’s how my whole day was going to be; constantly surrounded by demands on energy I didn’t have to give.

The pervasive thought this morning is that it’s almost the three-year mark. Three years since mom died. Soon I will have to find another rose to add to her vase; a sign that I have once again survived to reach another year. A sign that I made it through all of the hard days, all of the good days, each and every day that ticked us closer and closer to “this” day.

It sucks. And knowing that I couldn’t have the one thing I wanted, to be left alone, made it worse.

I did end up making waffles for everyone. I used whole eggs this time instead of egg whites. I didn’t eat with the family, but I was told the waffles were good. I stepped outside with Ox for a cigarette after he had eaten. When I came back inside I curled up in bed under the covers with one of the cats. Mama Ox came to the doorway. Since the lights were off she couldn’t see me.

Mama Ox: Where did she go? It’s like she’s hiding. I thought she came in here but I can’t see her.

Right Brain: Um… yeah. I’m hiding. That’s sort of the point of hiding. To not be found or bothered.

Ox and I had some alone time. He let me cry. I had told him about a dream I had last night which might have added to the frustration I woke up with. I had been in the kitchen trying to do something, but there was trash everywhere that no one had thrown away. There was clutter and friction and all of this “stuff” that I had to work around or take care of before I could begin to do what needed to be done. It felt like I was the only one who cared and that made it all feel pointless. I can’t care for everyone. I can’t be the only one doing things all the time. That’s how people burn out and that’s what I woke up with; a burnt out feeling.

I’m glad to say that things are getting better. I’ve worked through all of the emails in my inbox that I didn’t get to on Tuesday. I’ve replied to posts and even an email from one of my uncles. I have a new niece. I doubt I’ll ever be very close to her, but I’m happy for my cousin. I hope she’s enjoying being a parent. I hope her daughter grows up to have a close relationship with her.

I proofread and posted my last writing. I’ve written this one, not that there’s really much to say. I feel tired. I feel emotionally drained. I still feel slightly confined though not as much as I was when I first woke up. I’m hoping to get through this weekend of rainy ickiness where the kids complain that they’re bored and how there’s nothing to do. I’m hoping one day I will have my dragon’s den and it won’t matter if the kids are here; I’ll still be able to sleep after an exhausting day of work. I’ll still be able to have my silence and solitude without interfering with everyone else’s life.

Today isn’t that day, though. Tomorrow isn’t going to be that day either. Right now I just need to breathe through the tension and realize this is a moment in time. Nothing is bad. Nothing is wrong. Everyone here loves me, it’s just not structured to the needs of an extremely introverted INFJ.

For today, I will be grateful.

I am grateful I had my mom in my life as long as I did. I’m grateful I still have her in my life in the ways that I do. I’m grateful that Ox loves me and tries as hard as he does to make me feel safe and cared for. I’m grateful for my life, even if it’s different than what I thought it was supposed to be.

Hopefully, I can remember those things when the tension starts to swell up again. I AM grateful. Even when things are hard and sad and I’m not alone like I want to be, I am grateful.



Written Sunday morning:

Today is off to a better start than yesterday. Granted, it’s only 6:30 in the morning, but already I have been equally as productive as I was for all of yesterday combined.

I woke up yesterday feeling out of it, and maybe that’s not the right way to describe it. I felt alright, just not up to the task of doing anything or socializing with anyone. It was one of those days where if I still lived in Orlando I would have slept all day and stayed in my room cuddling with Scarlet. Maybe if I had been feeling frisky I would have eaten something.

That’s not possible in the enviornment I live in now, though, and it most certainly isn’t possible while the kids are here.

I helped with breakfast yesterday, but I didn’t eat anything with the family. The bit of time I was in the kitchen with Mama Ox going back and forth and inserting her two cents on topics that didn’t matter and were mostly small talk that I had to fain instrest in had me frayed and feeling overwhelemed. It didn’t help that when I tried to go to the room to get away from it all, she followed me and commented about how I was hiding.

Yes. I’m hiding. Please respect that and leave me alone. >.<;

I wrote yesterday and continued with my posting for my leadership class. I have a handful of reflection sections left to post from the first book. I did buy the second book yesterday even though we won’t be working on it for the class until April. I figured since I’m going to be starting my Human Anatomy class soon that it would be better to try to get as ahead as possible. The next book is Fierce Conversations by Susan Scott. I don’t know much about it, but the audio book is over 13 hours. I may start it up today depending on how things go.

I did start a load of laundry yesterday, but that’s all I did with it. I just switched it over before putting my roast in the oven, so both of those things are going. I’m trying something different with my roast. I used a Grill Mates marinade with it this time since I like how it turns out with chicken so much. We’ll see if it’s a success in about an hour.

Ox and I did go to the store here in town yesterday afternoon. We needed milk and eggs. Mama Ox wanted a new container of cashews. I wanted shredded cheddar cheese for the leftover chili that no one is eating. I got a small bag of the Reese’s snack popcorn that I like.

Other than that, I took a three hour nap yesterday and did a bunch of nothing. I haven’t cooked dinner all week, which I guess isn’t as awful as it sounds. There were leftovers for some of the days, and the others Mama Ox cooked burgers or other simple, quick things that the family liked.

This wasn’t really the best week for me to do much, what with working late and having to travel. Maybe that was part of yesterday; burnout from a rougher week than I had thought it was.

I told Ox last night that I feel like I don’t handle things as well as I used to. I don’t know if that’s me getting older or still being broken from the ordeal that was mom’s death. I don’t remember crying as much during high school, though. I don’t remember feeling as overwhelmed and bombarded by small, simple social interactions. I also didn’t have to deal with them very much for the seven-ish years I lived in Florida. I was able to have my own room and to avoid the world when I wanted to. I still don’t have that option here and so maybe I’m the same it’s just the situations are different. Different stressors, different coping behaviors… I wish I knew.

Ox, for his part, was himself. Ridiculously understanding, supportive, and reassuring. He let me sleep during the day. He dealt with my grouchiness. He held me, encouraging me to take deep breaths when the tension started to build in my chest. He said two months. He doesn’t want me to sleep in the addition with it being so cold. He didn’t want me to sleep in my car either for the same reason when I brought that option up last night. I didn’t want to be away from home, so the thought of a hotel room didn’t sit very well with me.

I just want a quiet space here. A safe space. A “my” space where I belong and I have my things with me instead of them being packed away still in a storage unit I haven’t seen in roughly seven months. I keep thinking in the back of my mind that I’m going to unwrap my china and all of the pieces are going to be broken because of how cold it has been. It’s a shitty thought that doesn’t help anything when my brain is already being a terrorist.

I don’t really know where to go from here as far as my writing goes. Ox said two months. I have my trip next week to see my brother and dad and Mother Earth and Sir. I don’t have a lot of time while I’m there. Maybe I should have tried to plan this better. I don’t think I’ll have time to visit my home clinic. I don’t know if I want to see Warren while I’m there. It will most likely be like pulling teeth and I doubt any headway will be made in regards to the money he owes me. I would like to see my therapist before she retires. I would like to go to the dojo, but I don’t know if I should or not. I haven’t been going to the one here, and though I’ve been better about the gym this past week, I still feel like I’m behind in regards to the workout section of my life.

It was rainy and misirable all day yesterday and it’s suppposed to stay that way for a while. The tempratures are supposed to rise, though. Hopefully spring is arriving and all of this snow will melt and it will be sunny once again. I hope so. I really, really hope that I’m almost at the end of whatever this is and that I do good in school and my yearly review goes well and I eventually get my safe, quiet place and all of this tension and stress and apathy melt away with the snow.

Letters to Mom 013: Jiu Jitsu White Belt – First Stripe

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I received my first stripe in Jiu Jitsu tonight at my dojo.

This is the post I wrote on Facebook . 


This is me being an INFJ and writing an emotional post and giving absolutely zero fucks about writing it.

This is for you, mom.

This is my grief in its entirety.

This is my rage, my pain, and my weakness. This is my anguish, my fear, and my abandonment. This is my strength, my honor, and my pride. This is my humility, my gratitude, and my forgiveness.

And in the end, after everything else is spent and has had its time, pouring from my fingertips into the keyboard in front of me, this will be my acceptance and peace.

This is for the past year, mom. This is for everything that has happened since March 23rd, 2016.

This is for the first phone call with Jason where I heard him say the doctors didn’t think you would make it. This is for the four hours of sitting on the plane silently begging the Universe to let you still be there when I landed. This is for holding your hand for two weeks and being your “water fairy”. This is for every night I had the best worst sleep in my life while I stayed at the hospital with you.

This is for the last time I held your hand as I called the funeral home and told them I didn’t know what to do.

This is for flying back to South Carolina with your urn in my backpack. This is for the TSA guy who handed it back to me with his solum, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

This is for dad because he didn’t have to come to your service. He didn’t have to be there for me and Jon, but he was.

This is for dealing with Zane’s betrayal.

This is for telling Full Sail to go fuck itself and resigning.

This is to society’s oppressive mentality of thinking I wasn’t good enough whenever I said I was unemployed.

This is for the past year of learning how to live without you, mom.

This is for every phone conversation I haven’t been able to have with you. For every hug I wish I could give you. For every night I cried myself to sleep. For every morning I didn’t understand how to get out of bed.

This. This night. This single stripe of tape wrapped around a sweat soaked piece of cloth. This is for you.

This is my proof to you that I’ve survived. This is my way to show that I have honored the promise I made to you while I held your cold hand that final time and told you I would be strong. That I would keep going even though I didn’t know how.

This is for every time I screamed in my car. This is for every time I questioned why or how or what’s the point. This is for every time I wanted to give up and didn’t.

It seems so silly to the logical side of my brain. It’s just a piece of tape. But it’s so much more than that, mom.

I know you’re proud of me. I know you would be overjoyed that I achieved this. I know there are two sides to everything. It’s so minor and yet it’s so major. Simple and yet complex. It’s seemingly nothing, and yet, at the same time, it’s everything.

It’s the blood, sweat, and tears. It’s the fractured rib I fought to breathe around. It’s the bruises and the mat burn. It’s me drop kicking that voice of Self Doubt that I still struggle with sometimes in the face.

This is for every person who has supported me, both knowing and unknowing, through the hardest year of my life.

This is for my pseudo-family at the dojo. This is for every single person on my Facebook. For every person on my blog.

This single white piece of tape is my symbol of survival through all of it. Through everything mentioned and unmentioned.

This is my way of telling Life it can go fuck itself if it thinks I’m going to go down without a fight.

I WILL keep going. This IS NOT my end.

This, all of this, is for you mom.

I’m me because you lived. I’m me because you died. I’m your daughter, now and forever, and I will ALWAYS do my best to bring you honor.

You were the best person in my life. My best friend, my confidant, my mentor, my supporter. You were my mother and your death taught me just how much that word meant to me. You ARE my mother and not even death can change that.

Your final words to me, “I’ll love you forever and for always.”

I love you too, mom. I will love you forever and for always, too.

This is for you. This is for everything you ever did for me, and for everything you continue to do.

Thank you for raising me. Thank you for teaching me to believe in myself. Thank you for being you. But above all of that, beneath every action and goal and dream, at the foundation of who I am, thank you for being my mother.

This is for you, mom. This is for us.

Photo Mar 08, 9 51 25 PM