Broken

I read that post about "no name." Strangely, that person I could not name was the beginning of knowing I was broken and that it was okay to be broken. I had to know I was broken to mend myself. I had to see the broken me. Being broken isn't bad. I have to say we are all broken in some way. Some of us have great brokenness, some of us small brokenness--usually unnoticeable. (The unnoticeable brokenness is usually the unwillingness to see, or what you have been taught as acceptable.) People are broken because people are human. Humanity isn't perfect. This is a fact. Now, with that said, there is a wholeness in the brokenness. If a person never knows s/he is broken, I believe, s/he will never know her- / himself. If a person cannot see the break, the same errors are made. The question probably becomes if the person likes the cycle. Some cycles are hard to stop. I've realized that all I can do is mend those areas and keep a watch for those scars to break open. Those scars never go away. Those scars are there for a purpose. Those scars are a reminder of where you were and where you are going and who you are to become., and a reminder that YOU ARE HUMAN. Human is being an adventure. What is your goal in your becoming? Will you reach that goal? Who is it you want to be? I cannot name that goal, or can any other person. Remember, being broken isn't bad. Being broken is experience and what you do with that experience to become.

JOB CHANGE NEEDED

I made this site to rant, did I not? Here is my rant:

I have come up against the issue of students' believing that revision doesn't need to be done after I have reviewed and made comments on their drafts to help them, only to get the SAME exact draft returned as a final. Then . . . then! . . . to have a student plagiarize and say "It's a misunderstanding"! Misunderstanding? What? When all I have done is STRESSED no plagiarism, saying the essay is ALL YOURS, WRITTEN BY YOU, WITH YOUR WORDS. Even a simple journal plagiarized! My nerves are at an end. I no longer want to instruct. I want another job. There's, also, playing the discrimination card; yes, saying I discriminated because the student ISN'T making the grade s/he believes s/he should have: "I must have an 'A.' If I don't get an 'A,' my perfect GPA is messed up; I won't get into nursing," and on and on and on. PLEASE, really, now, if I was discriminating, all the students that were another race wouldn't be passing or getting much less. I'M DONE! I am searching for a different job, only to hear, "Your education makes you over qualified; this isn't a job for you; you can do much more; blah blah blah." Guess what?! If I wanted to do something else, I wouldn't be applying. I'm not an idiot! I need out of education! Tired of husbands getting in the mix, as if a wife can't take care of herself; tired of the "helicopter" parent pushing his or her agenda for an adult child; tired of students thinking "You owe me; I paid for this class; since I work and raise children, you can't be tough on me." GARBAGE. I went to college while raising FOUR children and working part time and married and taking care of a house! You choose the path, you do the path, or get off of that path! I OWE YOU NOTHING BUT A THE BEST EDUCATION POSSIBLE! So, here I am, looking for a different career. The career I want . . . --it is a slow process to make it, to become, to be recognized. For now, I will take the simple receptionist work until my work is published. If publication doesn't come, . . . . It is time to put my work in a self made book and kept, in hopes to be released another time or online--an ebook. I don't want to. There's no real money in that unless, once again, YOU ARE FOUND. However, it is about getting my work to the public, getting my work read, getting my work to the people for my benefit and satisfaction in hoping they are getting the same.

As soon as I'm offered a position where I don't have to give grades, I'm out of the education field. My nerves can't do it!

A Journey to Happiness

It has been a journey, a very long journey, which I hope I never have to take again. I've come to realize that the answers I give to a question are neither right or wrong (in most situations) on this journey; the answers aren't always right for someone else. Sometimes, it isn't about pleasing others; it is about doing what looks right, feels right, and appears to be logically right (life isn't all math), and sometimes just gut wrenching right. Not everyone is going to agree because they do not see it as I do; they are not standing in my space, my time. That doesn't mean I don't ask what others see. When it comes down to it, will I be happy while making everyone happy, will I be miserable while making everyone else miserable, or will I be miserable while making everyone happy. Call it being selfish--I'll take me be happy almost every time now. I know there are things to be done regardless of how I like it--job, bills, those types of items. In time, I can change those too but, often, it is what has to be done, now, due to unexpected things or because it is the only thing available and it is needed, now. When all is said and done, can I live with myself? Yes, I make mistakes, no doubt, and those mistakes might not be mistakes per se, just bumps in the road or out-of-my-control scenarios.

For the first time, I can say I am happy. It has taken me a long while to get here. I don't have much: I'm still struggling financially, I'm staying with relatives as I keep plugging away at finding a full time job and working on my writing, researching publishers. I do have a few poems published, which most have been published within the last year. I've found my nitch.

While I am happy, I do miss my daughters. I see them physically but have no real contact with them. They have both made it clear I am responsible for everything. What they are saying, whether they realize it or not, I am responsible for their happiness. I know I am not. Happiness comes from within. However, a person can make you miserable, though, if you let that person. At least, that is partially true. As I experienced the anger and bitterness of my ex, I realized there are times people go out of their way to hurt a person. Hurt causes unhappiness. It is hard to learn to get pass the hurt, the part of the hurt that makes the unhappy feelings, and allow it to just be, knowing hurt can be felt but doesn't have to control. Once I learned this, no matter what was thrown at me, I handled it and did what made me happy. It is hard, very hard, and I still have to work through it.

There is one thing that takes more time to get through: grief. I mostly grieve for Vincent. I miss him. I do grieve for my daughters' absences. Also, I have grieved for the lost of 32 years with a man I thought I knew. Now, I look back (actually read my past journals) and learn more and more about me, and the how of what went wrong. The wrong started 10 years into the marriage. That isn't what I want to discuss in this paragraph, though. Grieving: I grieve for the loss of me but rejoice in the new creation; I grieve for my living son, David, who attempts to deal with issues that he doesn't know or understand, and doesn't realize they are not his to deal with--but he's getting there; I grieve for Vincent, mostly. I know he is gone and the living cannot live for the dead (or is it the dead living for the living.) Does it matter? I am happy but it doesn't mean I don't grieve; it doesn't mean I don't hurt; it doesn't mean I forget. Happiness means forgiving and doing your best to love, even in the hardest situations.

Happiness is a condition of forgiving. Do realize, sometimes, it means walking away from a situation that won't change because another or others are unwilling to change it--even if it means walking away from those you love (before it becomes bitterness). I was heading that way; I was right at the beginning of it before I left Garry. I remember the last time I saw Garry, I had two different distinct feelings--pity and disgust. I haven't seen him since then. I would like to test myself to see if the disgust has left. Some days I could say yes, other days I say no. I wonder if I have fully forgiven him for his behavior and lies, which, also, damaged my relationship with our daughters. I had responsibility in it, my daughters had responsibility in it but Garry dug into the situations between the girls and me to have them walk away from me. I guess I haven't forgiven him for taking a mother away from my daughters. I still need work here. This doesn't change Happiness is a condition of forgiving. Some hurts are just harder than others to . . . get past. Reading the journals do help because I have more understanding of all the whys had. In time, I will be able to give full forgiveness.

I'm not sure who reads this blog anymore. I'm hoping to pick up some new people, or at least peek the interest of those who use to read this blog. After reading through my post, I can see how much I've changed. Some of me has grown up much more; parts of me has "grown down"--as it is said in Mama Mia; most of me has become wiser, learning how to let go of the bitterness better. Here is to a better life, more wisdom, and a continuous growth.

It is 2014

I don't recall the date on this site that I last posted. Here is a quick update:

The divorce was finalized November 5, 2011.
My son died March 4, 2013.
I became engaged December 31, 2012.
Planned wedding date was September 29, 2013.
Delayed wedding due to circumstances that doesn't deal with the relationship between hubby and me.
Reset date for wedding is 2014.

I plan on coming back and writing much more.

Please stay tune for books I hope to have published in 2014 / 2015: The Required Silence of Woman and Cancer Cells.

Time has gone by . . . .

Yes, time has gone by, most quickly, and yet . . . time has been slow. Which is it? I don't know. It has been over a year since Vincent was found with cancer (09/26/2010). It has been over a year since my separation (12/22/2010). The divorce finalized last year (11/04/2011--same day I read for First Friday at the Three Rivers Coop on Sherman Street in Fort Wayne, IN.). Ironic? I read freeing pieces, pieces that spoke much about how I could breathe, and do breathe, now. So, where am I? I'm still instructing composition. I'm still writing. I'm still looking for work that brings home the bucks. I'm dating . . . and dating . . . and . . . just dating (giggling, because it is fun and it is a headache). I think back to all that happened since just before 09/2010. Seems so long ago, and not so far away. The evilness of time.

Here's to life. Here's to being single. Here's to dating. Here's to the struggles. Here's to once being married.

Married: I started this blog because of my ex-husband's disability and how it effected me and the children. I was hoping for something to help me explore how to keep my sanity, to help me cope, to help me help him. I forgot, a person can't help another unless that said person wants help. I kept fighting to stay "in" love. While most will tell me it isn't impossible, it becomes impossible when the partner fails to listen to the partner--hey, we're drowning here! Well, all the best to my ex. I wish him no harm.

Plenty with that above. Dear children, especially my daughters, do remember I am your mother, and there is a verse that you have not remembered: honor your parents--that includes me! regardless of how you feel about what has happened between your father and I. One thing that I do hold against your father, telling you children things that happened that was between him and I, no one else. Here is a tidbit that I kept as a secret for years: when your aunt Dawn was going through her divorce, your father looked at me, said, "You ever leave me, I'll take the children, and you'll never see them again." While he can't physically steel you away, he has emotionally, keeping said promise. Revenge tactic? No. a statement of truth to show how your father is thinking, and does think. I doubt you ever read this, but to those others that do, NEVER USE YOUR CHILDREN.

Well, I'll be back again. How soon, I don't know, but I will be back.

So long.

Thank you to those who have helped me along my journey in the past year.

I have met many people since my separation, and I use the word people because I have not met men only. Some good friendships have developed over the past year, friendships I will not discard at a whim. There are men to be listed, there are women to be listed, but my time won't allot for such a list. Anyhow, I'm here to say that there are a few men I must thank on my journey that have touched me in some way and have taught me something about me that I lost long ago. Let me start with Johnny, a dear man, a retired ministered. Thank you for showing me the beauty that I do have from within me, the beauty I had forgotten existed. Showing me this beauty began to allow me to be me. I'm still working on being me, but I am me, now, more than I have ever been. There is Jim, a retired monster truck driver--yeah, monster truck driver, of all things. Well, he as well helped me find that beauty within, not by scolding me, as Johnny did at times, when I needed it the most, but by just listening, by being there at the oddest moments, and just calling me "cute" when I would say exactly what I felt. Then, there is Rod, a retired bull rider--boy, I have them in every line of work! Rod taught me what signals to look for, those mixed signals, those signals that are so subtle, unless you've been played often, you just don't recognize them. No matter, Rod will always have a special place in my heart. Of course, there is Ken (not Kenny), who I did decide to live with. It was brief. That brief excursion taught me I can stand up for myself, I can face a man who gets into my face, that I am strong even when I am weak. And Kenny (yes there are two Kens--lol), who made me realize I can pick who I want, that I am not limited, that I do have beauty on the outside. Some part of me knew this, but the insecurity of age always keeps this at bay. Then there is Peter, a very spiritual man. I thank him for the church, his family, his love and nonjudgmental way, but also his constructive criticism of my situation. He helped me open up my heart more to God, to see God, to feel God in a fuller presence. I doubt I will be leaving Agape Fellowship any time soon. The spirit abounds in this place. There are many Sundays I don't want to leave, the people, or the building. Peter and his family, and the church family, have been a tremendous blessing. Without them this holiday season, I doubt I would have made it through. And there is still Christmas. Lastly, at this moment on my travels, is Kurt, a Christian biker. I do have to admit I have deep feelings for him; where it goes I do not know. Kurt has brought all the previous meetings to a full circle. I am me in his presence. I hide nothing of who I am. If Kurt and I do not become significant others, there will always be a close friendship, without doubt. Meeting him has made me understand that all of me can be acceptable, that I need not hide any of me. These men have become good good friends on my journey after the separation and Vincent's initial battle with cancer. I must also thank Tom for being there with his Lutheran wisdom when I needed it the most, him not judging me as I made my transition, allowing me to see friendship, even at a distance, is a great blessing. Tom, I hope you read this. So, on this journey, in the aspects of male friendships, it has been good. Of course, this does not exclude the female friends made on this journey as well. The most notable friends of course, before this journey began are Kiersten, Tammy, and Tobey. The other notable friends are Mona, Lisa, Cathy, and Nancy--none of these four even live in the state of Indiana. If anyone would say it was impossible to have friends you've never met in person, I would argue my case against such thoughts. Cathy kept the jokes coming. Mona just listen and gave wisdom of God. Lisa sat through long nights with me. Nancy and I had things in common, number one being grandchildren. Thank you to each of you. All is much appreciated. God does send people to you, even people that might not be the best just to give you a lesson much needed. And Kenny, I hope you get your phone back soon! Miss our conversations much!