Honoring A Hero

"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." John 15:13

In the last six days, I have seen my community come together in love & solidarity amidst a tragedy. Our beautiful little corner of the world here in upstate South Carolina was dark but for a moment last Friday, March 18, when an officer of local law enforcement lost his life at the hands of a criminal, a gang member, a child. I cannot begin to fathom what his friends and family have felt over the last week because I know that even with the sincerest use of my imagination, what I muster up cannot come close to the sinking reality of losing a friend or family member so tragically.

When I first heard the news that an officer had been fatally wounded, I felt the automatic sadness that comes from hearing such news. I flashed back to life several years ago, when fear of my ex husband not coming home everyday was very real in my world.  My ex husband is a former police officer, and I remember the feeling I had for his position as the spouse. It was fear mixed with pride, and I spent many nights in my younger years praying, to who I'm not sure, but praying that I would never have to explain why Daddy wasn't coming home anymore to my two young toddlers. If you have never been a part of a LEO family, I'm not sure you can adequately understand the bit of fear you feel when you kiss your significant other, or son, or mother, or father, knowing that there is a true reality of them meeting a fateful end when they don that patrol belt and bulletproof vest. So in the middle of the night last Friday, while I was up to feed the baby, I read the news that turned this nameless officer into a very real person, and one that I had actually met in passing before. I felt compelled to share his identity with my husband right then & there, at 4 in the morning, and we shared the sadness in the dark of our bedroom.  For the next several days, the news of his passing, thoughts of his family, and questions about what we could do to support those left behind, all stayed at the forefront of our minds.

Officer Allen Jacobs left behind in this earthly world two young sons, a beautiful, loving wife, and a sweet unborn baby girl. What I have witnessed from my community since his passing has been nothing short of beautiful. I have seen love and solidarity come out in droves. We have all watched Officer Jacobs' patrol car become beautifully adorned in flowers, cards, pictures, little pieces of memories that people felt compelled to share. 

When I told my four year old son of the news, he immediately was concerned for the two boys close to his age. He began asking lots of questions about why God would let them lose their daddy. These were questions I was unable to come up with any answers to. His answer to the sadness, though, was to make a card for the boys. He was sad that they were sad, and he told me that a card would make him feel a little bit better if he were sad, so he set to work. He later approached me to tell me he was sad about their unborn baby sister too. "When will she be born?" he asked me, and I told him she was expected to be born right around his own little sister's birthday. He immediately got very excited, and said to me, "I hope she's born on Lyric's birthday, and you know why? If she's born on Lyric's birthday, they can be friends always and she will never have to be sad on her birthday because she will have a friend for life." My heart ached with love and sadness and pride at my young boy's response to this entire tragedy. 

I have read biographies and articles and heard snippets of Allen Jacobs' life, and confidently, I can say that he led an honorable and influential life. I am saddened at this terrible loss, but I feel respect and admiration for the unity I have felt within my community. I feel certain that the family of Officer Jacobs will be wrapped in loving arms and have support from every corner.  I am grateful that from the ashes of tragedy, a cloak of love has been formed.

"Blessed are the Peacemakers, for they will be called children of God." Matthew 5:9

Officer Allen Lee Jacobs

E.O.W. March 18, 2016

A tale of bullshit.

I have to wonder if I will ever overcome the struggle that began 4 years ago. I find myself daydreaming (day-nightmaring?) almost every single day about being cheated on. Not in the I-think-my-husband-would-cheat-on-me kind of way, but in the let-me-create-an-elaborate-tale-of-how-he-could-cheat-on-me kind of way. And I don't even realize that I'm doing it until the stupid tale has already been spun.

It's unfair to myself to continually be in this mindset that no matter what I do or how hard I love or the passion that I try to put into being a wonderful wife, the voice inside will never allow myself to believe that who I am will always be enough. This is basically what I was getting at in my post from two years ago, when I talked about how I felt that I was Never enough.

The hardest part about the tornado that my mind sends itself into is that I have zero, none, absolutely no reason to ever feel that my husband would so much as think about another woman in the way that only I, his wife, should be thought of.  But still, time after time, my brain works itself into a long line of thought about things that maybe I should have done differently that could maybe one day lead to being cheated on again.  What I mean by that is - I question myself constantly.  I wasn't very chipper this morning, what if a random woman he works with is more cheerful than I was this morning?  I didn't put on make up yesterday, I bet he noticed and wonders why I'm not putting effort into myself.  I still have the rest of the baby weight to lose, I wonder if it took his ex wife this long to lose the baby weight.  Let me be clear, I have an unbelievably supportive and uplifting husband.  I really mean that.  He calms these unreasonable fears and never jump starts the cycle of thought by his own doing.  But inevitably and unfairly, there they always are. 

I don't know how to break this cycle, so instead I just get angry.  I divert my anger towards my ex husband who is responsible for this damage to my mind and my spirit.  In our years of marriage, the idea of a person cheating on another person - that's just in the movies, right?  That could surely never happen to us because.  Because.  So I never unfairly gave way to any thought about him ever cheating on me, and then he so kindly took my love and trust into the arms of another woman, and broke me in the process.  I truly feel from the bottom of my soul that it was for the best that I became the cheated on wife because, in all honesty, I never could have felt the happiness I feel now.  I was happy in the marriage, sure.  If anyone had ever asked,  I would have gone into a long winded speech of praise for my faithful and loving husband and our wonderful marriage.  But now that I am on the other side, I was so naive.  I wasn't happy - I was content.  I poured most of my energy into making friends online that could sympathize with my situation of displaced Army wife.  He focused his energy on work and physical training and video games and baseball.  I focused my energy on kids and military spouse forums.  We didn't spend time together; we merely spent time alone within feet of each other.  It was probably the perfect storm to create infidelity, though I never would have seen it for myself in the moment. 

My point is - what I experience now in my relationship is far beyond that.  I am happier, more fulfilled, and grateful, so grateful for what my life consists of now. But that is why the torment I put myself through is so much more terrible.  My husband doesn't deserve to be mentally placed into these situations where I imagine the countless ways he could one day break my heart.  I trusted wholeheartedly a man that would crush me, and because of that, I don't allow myself to extend this same courtesy of trust to my husband when he is someone who undoubtedly deserves it. It doesn't help that infidelity is everywhere, always planting ridiculous seeds and new, fun scenarios that I just drop myself and my husband right into.  In the middle of reading a wonderful book about a lovely couple (man, these two remind me of Spencer and me!), BAM! The man decides to cheat on his girlfriend out of nowhere.  Girl moves on from this broken heart and later gets married to a seemingly great guy.  Years later, BAM! Her husband is caught sleeping with her boss.  What the fuck, world?  Why is infidelity so fun to write about?  Why is it always included in just about every story line of every book and movie I seem to find?  (I'm looking you in the eyes, Love Actually.)

Now, all of that aside, I know I have the issue here.  I'm not sure how to overcome this.  I honestly fear that I never will.  On the one hand, I know that it is contained inside my own head and would never cause any actual doubt or mistrust towards my husband, but on the other hand, who wants to have to deal with that forever because of some jerky ex-husband's actions?  It is not fun, and I am determined to squash those nightmare bunnies (get it? like dust bunnies?) back into the deep, dark crevices of my brain.  Or better yet, I'd love to just Swiffer those bastards right the fuck out of there.  Wish me luck.

Repeat.

The T-shaped demon lay on a washcloth, staring at me, while heavy tears ran down the length my body.  My chest heaved with every sob, and I struggled to catch my breath. Just outside the bathroom door, I could hear my two children giggling and playing, having a real moment together, while just inside the bathroom door, I was having a moment all my own.  This minute piece of plastic has been treacherous. Detrimental to my health mentally, physically, emotionally.  If this recountment seems a bit dramatic, over the top, that's because everything having to do with the Mirena has been over the top, dramatic.

Four years ago, I made what I called "the best decision I've ever made regarding my health" when I chose to get my Mirena IUD removed. It had caused immediate and severe postpartum depression in myself, and had turned my sweet, chubby little infant into a non-sleeping, fussy, and forgive me for saying it - nearly intolerable little child. I didn't realize the connection for months, but eventually threw the timeline together and it became clear that these problems started after placement of my Mirena. I made a vow to myself then that I would never go down that dark path again.  So when my midwife asked me, following the birth of my youngest child if I wanted a Mirena, I mildly questioned it, but eventually decided it was the best route. What was I thinking? I wasn't thinking.

Lyric has been a baby, nearly identical in nature to her big brother, Avery, as an infant. Fussy, non-sleeping, oftentimes intolerable. Why it took me 6 months (again) to make the connection to the Mirena, I don't know. I dare say it was negligible on my part to both our healths.  I have been temperamental, sad, lonely when my husband is giving me his full  attention, and anxious over just about everything under the sun. My husband might even say I was a bit intolerable at times. I again had chalked it all up to postpartum anxiety, something that no doubt comes with the territory. We had, after all, gone from individual households to a blended family of 6 in a fairly short amount of time. But the way I was feeling every single day was beyond this day to  day stress. This was entire-world-on-my-shoulders stress. How-am-I-going-to-live-my-life-like-this stress. It was obvious to my husband that I was struggling, but if I'm being completely honest, my struggles were a lot darker down in there than even I had let on to him.

I am just over 24 hours past removal, and that is over 24 hours since I felt a proverbial boulder lift off my back. It will take an adjustment for my body to get used to the hormonal changes, but I am never going back. It is scary what something so small and seemingly insignificant can do to your health. I am done not having control over my own body. My tears yesterday stood for change. They stood for mental health and clarity. This begins a chapter of healthier, happier days marked by healthier, happier choices for us all.

Untitled

I don't know who this person in the mirror is. She looks familiar. Sounds familiar. More hollow than normal, I think. This person I see is not me. Least, not the best version of me. There are echoes of the best me that resound sometimes late at night or on the weekend. Happy, carefree. She comes out of hiding when I can forget about life's stresses for a moment. Other times, most times, I am sad and stressed and exhausted. This person is not the best, but she is real.

I am still spinning from my 4 year old's recent diagnosis of an autoimmune disorder. I am overwhelmed and constantly dealing with staggering anxiety. I will always worry for his quality of life and wonder if there will be any. He is labeled, now and forevermore, an outsider. My oldest daughter is tiresome. She is the sweetest child I know, but these moments of sweetness are so rare and highly unattainable on a regular basis. It breaks me to not know how to connect with her. Her personality is foreign to me, and I feel like I am constantly trying to reason with the enemy.  My infant is frustrating. She does not nap or sleep at night. She will not take a bottle so I can at least get a break. (I am desperate.) I am screamed at, fussed at, pinched, pulled, and scratched all day long by an unhappy baby. There is no recovery at the end of the day because there is never any sleep, only briefs moments of closed eyes before she is alert and screaming, needing again and again and again. She does not frustrate me by her actions - instead, I am frustrated in myself for feeling like such a lost mother. I do not feel like a good mother. I feel tired and sad and confused. Everyone in my house screams "Daddy", while internally, I yearn for them to scream for me. Can't they just want me some of the time? I give and give for these four children, and I still fall so short every single day.

I don't know where I am or when I'm coming back to who I want to be. I am searching, but I don't know where she has gone or if she's ever coming back. I feel broken.

A thank you.

I am unworthy of my husband. At least... I often feel that way. He is kind and hardworking and he loves me. Me. Good & bad. I have an unsavory past and it has not been an easy pill to swallow for myself or those close to me. Coming to grips with many of the poor choices I have made in my life has been a hard fought battle. It is not fair that I have managed to snag a man that loves me in spite of my lesser qualities. Those include, but are not limited to, my diarrhea of the mouth syndrome, my brutal honesty paired with my inability to reason other people's feelings, my periods that lacked critical thinking skills. I was a hopeless wreck that somehow got her act together and all (most) of my ducks in a row. But the past, yeah, it likes to pop its ugly little head up from time to time, and I hate that. I am so far from the person I was 3 years ago, it makes me shudder to remember what I put myself through. I was a broken idiot, and I spiraled for a long time. 

Like I said, I'm luckier than I should be and I don't really know how the man jackpot hit me when I am so very undeserving. He loves me wholly, he challenges me daily, and he literally makes me feel like my heart could beat out of my chest when I stop and think about this life I have with him. He puts up with my bullshit, doesn't make me feel (too) silly about my erratic emotions and the roller coaster that has been my adult life. He keeps it real and helps me to heal, especially when I wrongly think that I am already all glued back together. I'm not sure what he saw in this mess of a soul, but I will forever be indebted to this compassionate man for seeing beauty where I only saw wreckage. 

Amen.

If you are out there somewhere,

Please accept my apology.

I want to believe,

But I don't know if I can.

I am trying.

Impassioned.

I should stay off social media when anything of any significance is happening in the world. But I don't, so I let off steam by ranting a little. I am reminded how intolerant the world is, and it hurts my heart and my brain. I am still recovering from the ups and downs of postpartum hormones, so my emotions get a bit out of whack from time to time. I am sure these are exacerbated by reading the hate-filled words that fill the Facebook timelines. The world is not going to hell in a hand basket because school children don't say the Pledge of Allegiance anymore (my public school child still says it daily in class). Obama is not causing the demise of Earth. The world is not going to hell any faster or any differently than it ever has before. Muslims are not ruining the world. No, they should not be deported, or rounded up and imported into a database, or IN ANY WAY, have to explain their religious beliefs.  This is not Nazi Germany. Remember all those millions of Jews (see also: refugees) that were murdered? Refugees are not ruining the world. To say they are... it's disgusting. Today, refugees are running from a war that our country had a hand in creating. Do people forget how generally fucked up the world has always been? In fact, when has the world not had fucking awful things going on? If you feel the world is so god awful, be the change. Posting bullshit memes on social media is not being the change. Being the change is fucking educating yourself. This does not include hitting the share button on every politically charged, and likely factually inaccurate post you read on Facebook. Do some due diligence. Is the shit you're sharing even true? If it's on Facebook and has no source attached, it's probably bullshit. Remember that. Even if it has a source attached, is it factual or just propaganda? Read. Research. Fucking. Educate. Yourself.

One more rant. Pity parties are not pretty. Stop. A party of one is not a fun party to be at. Pull up your bootstraps, your panties, grab those fucking chonies and get yourself together. Everybody else's happiness was not put here to highlight your sad existence. In fact, the only thing that highlights a sad existence is you - highlighting your sad existence. There is always a reason to be happy. This does not mean you have to be happy all the time - this means try being happy sometimes. Appreciate the things you do have. Appreciate that you live in a first world country. Clean water and food are not only accessible, but so are cigarettes, liquor, soda, and fast food. Every vice you can imagine, you can EASILY ACCESS. Hell, take a minute to appreciate the fact that you are not a refugee trying to find safety for your refugee children while being compared to terrorists. 

And on a final note, realize how privileged you are.