Wild Things

I am a wild thing...hidden deep behind this mask I have worn for years...

For most of my life I have suffered from extreme shyness and low self esteem. If you were to meet me back in High School, chances were you would only get one or two words out of me. Now, well, I actually can hide the shyness. There's not too many people here who realize just how terribly shy I am.

As for the low self-esteem, well, that is still buried deep in my heart. Some days are better than others, but in the long run, it doesn't take much to send me spiraling into a pit of despair and self loathing. I spent a lot of the first year of my divorce in that pit. Now I find myself slowly climbing out.

This last weekend, I learned a lot about myself. First, I never, ever should drink when I'm angry, hurting and upset. That lesson will stick with me for a long time. Alcohol is not the answer and while it may numb the pain for a while, it always comes back.

Second, I am not fully healed from my divorce. My Gnome helped me realize that. I'm not sure what I need to do to heal, but I will, someday. I will wait patiently for that day when I can love myself again and not despair over failing in my marriage. She also kindly pointed out, that I really am too hard on myself.

Third, I am a wild thing and there is nothing in this world that can hold me back from what I want. Thank you My Dragon for that. I hope you know how much your words meant to me and how badly I needed to hear them.

So who am I? I have struggled long with this. This is a start:

I am the good Catholic girl.

I am a little bit country

I am a little bit city

I am a wild thing, full of passions, desires, needs, wants, and Love.

I am a part of the Pack

I am my mother's daughter

I am a mother to my son

I am not perfect and it's taken me long enough to accept that

I am a friend to many

I am loved by many

I love...

I am me...and for once in my life, I am happy with me.

Relationships

I think what I miss the most of being in a relationship is the romance.

I miss the uncertainty of two people learning about each other...their passions, their heart and soul.

I miss holding hands.

I miss arms holding me tight, saying everything is going to be all right.

I miss snuggling up to watch a movie.

I miss the shy kisses.

I miss romantic dinners by candlelight.

I miss dressing up in a new outfit, just to see how he reacts.

I miss sharing special occasions.

I miss having someone ask me "How was your day?"

I don't miss the marriage. And more surprising, I don't miss him.

I miss feeling a love so deep in my heart it makes me want to cry with happiness.

I miss the romance.

Love is...

Love Is...

Love is the first time you meet his eyes

and feel something special in your heart.

Love is the way your heart skips a beat

when you realize he's holding a small box.

Love is the overwhelming joy in your heart and soul

standing before family, friends and God to say "I do".

Love is the first cry of your child

and holding him the first time.

Love is watching your son grow

walking, talking and learning.

Love is when your world crashes

and she is there with a shoulder for tears.

Love is sitting in the court room

holding your Mom's hand.

Love is driving 300 miles

for a special friends wedding.

Love is being surrounded

by friends from all walks of life, loving unconditionally.

Love is puppy kisses

and snuggling together in the cold tent.

Love is kindness, hope, and joy.

Love is filling, surrounding, and everywhere

if you know how to see.

Sorrow

Tonight I received the terrible news.

He was my little brother in everything but blood. We grew up together. His Mom took me in as one of her own when I so desperately needed a haven.

He was a kind, gentle soul. His love knew no bounds for his family and friends. He was the one who would willingly give you the shirt off his back and last dollar.

I am grateful that we were able to spend some time together last month. I am grieved that I will no longer hear his laugh, see his smile, or receive another bear hug from him.

Billy was epileptic and not once in his life did he let that slow him down. Last night, he had a seizure, hit his head on the table, and died instantly.

My heart aches, I sorrow at the loss of such a kind and loving man. I miss my friend, my little brother.

I hope you finally found some peace Bill. Spread your wings and fly little brother.

Rest in Peace

William "Billy" Myrick

January 11,1978 to July 9, 2010

Dreams

Well I've had dreams enough for one
And I've got love enough for three
I have my hopes to comfort me
I got my new horizons out to sea

But I'm never going to lose your precious gift
It will always be that way
Cos I know I'm going to find my own peace of mind
Someday...

Where is this place that we have found
Nobody knows where we are bound
I long to hear, I need to see
Cos I've shed tears too many for me

But I'm never going to lose your precious gift
It will always be that way
Cos I know I'm going to find my own peace of mind
Someday...

On the wind soaring free
Spread your wings
I'm beginning to see
Out of mind far from view
Beyond the reach of a nightmare come true

Well I've had dreams enough for one
And I got love enough for three
I have my hopes to comfort me
I got my new horizons out to sea

But I'm never going to lose your precious gift
It will always be that way
Cos I know I'm going to find my own peace of mind
Someday...
Someway...

"New Horizons"

~Moody Blues~

How can life compare to the dreams that haunt me at night? Some mornings, I wake up, and cry. Reality sets in and it's nothing to my dreams. It hurts some days to face the reality of my life.

And that bothers me...

My life is not bad. It's not horrible. I have the love of Family and Friends. I have a home, food on my table, a few "toys", a car, a job. It's more than some people have. And yet...

I don't have my dreams.

In school, I wrote. Poetry, short stories...I was even considered good at it. I was moved into an accelerated english class for two years. I felt a muse, working in my soul. I wanted to create. I tried art class in High School, and no matter how hard I worked, I barely passed. So, I decided, art was not the muse calling me and turned back to the poetry that welled deep in my soul.

I wrote all through High School and the few months of College. I continued to write as I left the life and home I had known for 19 years and moved to Boise. And then somewhere, sometime along the way, the words no longer flowed. My muse abandoned me and my soul felt empty.

I used to carry a notebook and pen with me everywhere, so I could write anytime the muse called. And then, somewhere, sometime, the notebook and pen became a burden that was never used and so, left behind at home.

And then I stopped writing all together.

When I started gaming and running games for my friends, I wrote stories. Stories that captivated my friends and brought them back to my game table time and time again. Suddenly, my muse returned, words flowed from the depths of my soul, and I told stories.

Then, they too disappeared.

I struggle to this day to write and prepare for my biweekly D&D game. The story I started with, slithered from my grasp.

I miss the poetry. The grace and flow of the words from my soul to the paper, written by hand, painstakingly copied again and again, until the whole piece felt complete and right.

"I have dreams enough for one"

Where did all my dreams go? I used to dream of being a Forest Ranger, living in the mountains I love.

I used to dream of owning a bookstore, surrounded by beloved words.

I used to dream of many things...instead I find myself struggling to stay in a positive frame of mind, struggling to pay my bills, struggling to be a good mother for my son, struggling to figure who I am.

So now, instead of holding onto my dreams, I hold onto hope. Hope, that I will find my place in life and maybe find some peace from the dreams at night that make life feel like a nightmare.

Things I'd Do When I Become the Evil Overlord

I'm in the mood to post, but the thoughts in my head are not floating clearly...so instead I give you this....

No matter how well it would perform, I will never construct any sort of machinery which is completely indestructible except for one small and virtually inaccessible vulnerable spot.

I will dress in bright and cheery colors, and so throw my enemies into confusion.

All bumbling conjurers, clumsy squires, no-talent bards, and cowardly thieves in the land will be preemptively put to death. My foes will surely give up and abandon their quest if they have no source of comic relief.

All naive, busty tavern wenches in my realm will be replaced with surly, world-weary waitresses who will provide no unexpected reinforcement and/or romantic subplot for the hero or his sidekick.

I won't require high-ranking female members of my organization to wear a stainless-steel bustier. Morale is better with a more casual dress-code. Similarly, outfits made entirely from black leather will be reserved for formal occasions.

I will instruct my Legions of Terror to attack the hero en-masse, instead of standing around waiting while members break off and attack one or two at a time.

If my doomsday device happens to come with a reverse switch, as soon as it has been employed it will be melted down and made into limited-edition commemorative coins.

I wish I knew who to credit this to...seems like I've had it forever.

Enjoy!

The Road Trip

So, a month ago I received an invitation in the mail for my best friend and adopted sister. See, we went to High School together and pretty much spent the last two years of school running around with each other. Now, the last time I had seen everyone was 10 years ago, for Adam's funeral.

I am sad to say, that at first I seriously thought about not going. It would be so easy to make an excuse, find a reason to say no. I was scared, nervous, and uncertain. I wanted to be there for her special day...but at the same time, so many people to face, to explain why I never moved home, why I lost contact for so long...

I began making plans...a place to stay while in Lewiston, arrangements for my Son, someone to watch Sadie pup. But really, my feet dragged, my heart felt heavy at the thought of driving to the place I once called home.

I went through my hope chest one night, looking for some bits of my old poetry, thinking I'd update my blog with some old poems. What I really found were memories, pictures, stories, warmth and friendship...so many things forgotten with the new life I'd built 300 miles away.

That changed my whole perspective on the trip. I began looking forward to the drive north...I couldn't wait to see Taz, Mudpup, Gnome and everyone else.

What a joyous feeling to be reunited with my Pack Family! The love, friendship, the hugs, caring and fierce protectiveness over each other. So many happy memories, tinged with sorrow for the few not able to make it. I felt better about myself and the world around me than I had in a very long time. We laughed about old times, cried our hurt on each others shoulders, and reveled in being together again.

The wedding was beautiful, the reception nice, the party at the Alibi was a blast! I do feel a bit guilty that my ex felt he had to leave when I got to the Alibi. I was only avoiding him at the wedding because, well, if he tried to talk to me there I'm sure we would have had words, and not kind ones, which did not need to happen at the wedding. Oh well...

So, all in all...it was a great trip! And needed too...as I left Saturday afternoon to meet up with my family and little boy, I was already looking forward to the next time I could drive up for a visit...and hopefully soon. At, least sooner than 10 years...