“I can’t believe I’m 34 and trying to find myself” I think for the thousandth time.
In this season of life, where I’m trying to treat myself with patience and grace, I remind myself of all the times in the past when I was trying to find out who I am.
How many times before have I had to resculpt my identity from the rubble of life’s previous chapter? A milestone birthday, a graduation, a dream job ripped away, a walk down the aisle, the joy of new life, a friend’s final goodbye: doors opening and closing to different versions of me all born from the need to survive in these strange new worlds. These spaces that look something like the before times and yet somehow not quite right feel like the gap left behind by a lost tooth. A photo of joy that now holds sadness, a previously forgettable song that now must be played at full volume and sung with my whole chest, an ordinary piece of fruit that sets off peals of laughter, a necklace that I’ll never take off, a someone new asking for snuggles and breakfast and “Mommy will you open this for me?”
This change feels different somehow. It is as often a look back as it is a look forward. It is a reexamination of the foundations that I built my self image on and a probing to discover just how deep the cracks go. It is a forced change of internal dialogue. It is waging war with insecurities and doubts that have dug into my very brain like a parasite demanding to be fed. It is learning that the peace my anxiety convinced me would never exist, that I was unworthy of, is real and can be mine. It is beautiful and messy and exhausting.
Sometimes it has me crying and beating on the door of my previous existence to be let back in, not because it was better, but because its familiar.
Sometimes growth is less fresh green leaves and more scorched earth and manure, something is on fire and there’s shit everywhere.
I remind myself to look to Christ instead of the storm. Work to remember that a small success is still a success. Hug a little tighter. Laugh a little more. Try to forgive myself for all of the years of being my own bully. Take the picture. Tackle the challenge. Wear the bright colors/weird socks/ hair style/ whatever. Try the new thing.
Swallow my fears and doubts and bring my authentic self to the table and then choose to believe people when they say they like who I am. Let people love me. Love myself. Find ways to rejoice in the search and remember this for when the next door opens and I must begin again.
I never thought I’d be working with The Hubs. In fact, I openly spoke against it in the early days of our marriage. “No way we could work together.” “I didn’t go to college for four years to just be your helper.” “I don’t think spending that much time together is a good idea.” “I don’t want to lose who I am because every part of our lives is connected.” “We can’t do that, we’ll kill each other.”
When The Universe decided to go all topsy turvy in August of 2023, The Hubs and I decided that it was time for me to start my own business, to pursue my dream of being a business consultant. Life had other plans though, and one short month later the opportunity to take over the company that he’d spent 11 years doing work for very suddenly fell into his deserving hands. We knew he couldn’t do it on his own, even if the company was small, and that it was better to build up the company that was already making money than to chase new customers and income with my venture. We told ourselves that it would be temporary, that we’d buy the business then quickly grow it and get him some outside help. The Universe had other plans, much more drawn out and exhausting plans.
In November of 2023 I lost one of my very best friends and spiraled into a depression deeper than I’ve ever experienced. I was lost and adrift. I frequently got distracted and frustrated with my work. Going from working in an office full of people to being by myself most of the time was a new level of hell for me. Suddenly I was a fish out of water. I didn’t know much about meters and scales and here I was trying to talk to engineers about the damn things. I nearly failed accounting in college and now I was rage reading Quickbooks For Dummies and trying not to feel like a complete idiot. It was a very humbling lesson on the fragility of my ego. I was on the struggle bus big time. I spent most days frustrated and feeling clueless but the victories started coming and those were sweeter than honey. Our “this will be great and will only take a few months” was a gross and naive underestimate.
By the time we officially took ownership of the business in April of 2024, we’d started to get a handle on things. It wasn’t pretty, and it definitely wasn’t perfect, but most days we were moving in the right direction. By October of 2024, I realized that my daily exhaustion had little to do with my physical health and almost everything to do with my mental health. I began to work through my depression and, with the help of my family, doctors, and modern medicine, I started to come up for air.
Looking back, as much as my work situation contributed to my mental health struggles, it was also the best place for me to be. I don’t think I could have handled a job with regular hours and a rigid structure at the time. Working for our company allowed me to take days off when I needed to, gave me the freedom to go into the office looking like absolute shit if that’s all I could make myself put on that day, and opened up opportunities for me to help with The Twins school, something that I found and still find immense joy in.
It wasn’t just the job flexibility that helped though. If The Hubs hadn’t been working so hard to support our family financially, we could have easily spiraled into complete financial ruin. I won’t lie, it got pretty bad, but by the grace of God we’re working on repairing the damage. Through all of the struggles, I’ve never doubted his ability to do amazing work for our customers. The more I learn about our products and industry, the more blown away I am by his knowledge and abilities. He really is incredible and his intelligence has always been what attracted me to him most. Watching him problem solve every day is one of my favorite parts of working together. (There’s also a lot to be said for being able to hug your spouse at pretty much any time during the work day.)
We made a lot of mistakes when we first took over. We continue to make mistakes and, I’ve been assured, that mistake making never truly ends for those who are focused on growth. We’ve both learned so much about business and each other. I’ve found strength in myself and grown in ways I didn’t think were possible. The Hubs and I work really well together most days and I’m thankful for the opportunity to work together. Somewhere along the line I found that when people asked me what I did for a living I’d stopped saying “I’m helping my husband with his business” and started proudly saying “My husband and I own a meter and scale company. He handles the technical and mechanical work and I handle the sales and procurement.” (Obviously both are still wild understatements but the change in mentality is apparent).
We couldn’t have made it here without so much support though. My mentors are wonderful people who have helped us so much. They’ve answered so many questions and given a thousand pep talks. My family has been an unending source of encouragement and support. My brother works for us, one cousin is building our website, another has come to work with us on a couple of projects when we needed an extra hand, my Bonus Mom helped us organize our files (a Herculean task on its own) and throw out so much garbage, and my Bonus Grandmother has become one of my most trusted advisors. My in laws are always there to lend an helping hand and have worked with us on some big projects. Our parents took turns keeping the kids over the summer so they wouldn’t be stuck at the shop all day. Our friends both new and old have rallied behind us in more ways than I can say. I could literally go on for days.
The Hubs and I have spent all month stressing, packing and moving our business and my in laws’ into a new shop, and taking turns with who gets to have the complete mental breakdown while the other is tasked with being the strong one in our relationship. I keep telling him that as long as we don’t both freak out and have a meltdown at the same time we’ll be fine. Impressively, we’ve only both flipped out at the same time once and honestly I think we both just needed to eat lunch. While this move is scary, it’s also really exciting. Moving into a new building marks a new period of growth for our company.
Looking back at my opinions on working together, I can see that I was wrong in a lot of ways. “No way we could work together” was definitely incorrect. We actually work together really well most days. “I didn’t go to college for four years to just be your helper” was partially incorrect. I didn’t go to college to be a helper, but I did go to college to learn how to run businesses which incidentally looks like helping my husband build our company. “I don’t think spending that much time together is a good idea.” Yea, sometimes it’s not, but I schedule his appointments so I can make sure we have time apart. Hahaha! “I don’t want to lose who I am because every part of our lives is connected.” If anything, I’ve uncovered parts of myself that I didn’t know existed. “We can’t do that, we’ll kill each other.” Eh…this one we take day by day but so far so good.
I’m thankful for our life and proud of how far we’ve come and where we’re headed. Onward and upward!
I gave myself a couple of days off from blogging. It felt like too much too fast, an overly ambitious Lenten Promise for someone who hadn’t blogged in over a year I’m glad I did take a couple of days though. I needed it. This week is going to be hectic and having a peaceful weekend was 100% necessary. Despite taking a hefty nap this afternoon I’m keeping it short and sweet today because I’m still exhausted.
I want to take this time to give some love to The Hubs. He’s peacefully snoring next to me right now and will surely start sawing some major logs soon. He’s been working so hard to get both our company and his parents running better and bringing more money in. He’s taken on so much to support our family.
He’ll be up early in the morning to drive an hour away and do some work for a hospital system. Tomorrow he’ll be in another city installing a new fuel pump monitor. Thursday he’ll be putting a new meter on a fertilizer truck for a local farming co-op. In between all of that he’ll be troubleshooting with customers over the phone, asking them to call me to get job’s scheduled, and helping his Dad’s team to keep things working in the shop.
He’s been working like this for months trying to build up our company and overcome the start up debt. This has been hard on our family financially but he’s doing everything he can to turn the tide. Half the time he falls asleep fully clothed and half hanging off of the bed and wakes up to head to work before the sun rises.
On days when he leaves before we get up, he makes sure to call me when he knows the Twins and I are in the car so he can tell them good morning and that he loves them. When I get to the office I usually get a big hug and a kiss before we discuss the game plan for the day. Work life balance can be pretty nonexistent when you own your own company but it definitely goes both ways. There’s something to be said for being able to hug your husband anytime you get pissed off with a project you’re working on. Working late isn’t so awful when you love the person that you’re working beside.
I 100% could not handle this journey with anyone else, nor would I even try. Lord knows he’s not perfect, and I want to ring his neck at least once a day (pretty sure the feeling is mutual), but I’m so happy that we get to do this together. I love being there as we watch our hard work come to fruition. I love being there by his side to celebrate our successes. I’m excited to keep pursuing our goals together.
I’m writing this on my cell phone in bed because I’m too exhausted to fire up the laptop. It’s been a long day. I can’t help but go to bed with a happy heart though. As long as the day has been, it’s been filled with things to be grateful for.
I woke up late this morning and traffic was a nightmare. I wanted to scream and was so mad at myself for not getting up with my alarm. As I got on the road though, I realized it would have been even worse if I’d gotten out of the house on time. By the time we left the house, the bad wrecks had already happened and I was able to take an alternate route. If we went our usual way, it would have taken at least 30 minutes to get the girls to school.
I didn’t want to go to work today, but I remembered that I’m in a job now where I can be authentically myself. I no longer have supervisors second guessing my abilities or coworkers causing drama and playing petty games. I can wear whatever I please without fear of being sent home or called into someone’s office. My business partner is one of the smartest people I’ve ever met and the service he provides is unmatched. The results we see are truly the fruits of our labor and something I can be proud of.
This afternoon I had the pleasure of meeting with my Girl Scout Troop and teaching them about growing vegetables. I LOVE gardening and planting and I got to share that with 21 girls today. Each girl tasted cucumber, cherry tomatoes, and green beans. Then they let us know which ones they liked and didn’t like. We talked about soil and compost and they planted their very own cherry tomato, cucumber, and green bean seeds to bring home. We also sent the girls home with planting guides and info on composting to share with their parents.
Mag Pie and friends mixing their soil with cow manure. (Black Cow is the best!) The cucumbers were definitely the winners.
To sweeten the pot even more, my fellow troop leader and I had two unexpected helpers show up. We 100% couldn’t have done it without them. I have no idea how teachers do this all day every day. I would expire. We also had a special guest named Carrot. One of the girls brought her pet hamster to school this week so she came along for the ride and even tried some veggies. The kids had so much fun and we only spilled dirt on the floor once.
Carrot the Hamster. (She liked cucumber best)
As soon as we got things cleaned up we headed to across town see The Boy play in his spring band concert. He plays trombone and did an amazing job. It’s crazy to think that he’s so good after playing for less than two years. We are all so proud of him. He was even sitting on the end of the row this time so I was able to get more than just the top of his head in the video. We also go to see Crazy Eyes who was there to support her brother. Gotta love a two for one special. Any extra times we get to see the big kids are exciting.
Had to bully him into smiling because he thinks he’s too cool for pictures now. At least Crazy Eyes will still take pictures with me.
Overall it’s been an awesome day. I’m so glad I got to have it. I’m also very very happy to be going to bed!
I hope you all have amazing days tomorrow! God bless!
I used to have this theory that as Southern women age they get more and more into football. A majority of my early evidence consisted of my grandmother’s fervent watching of LSU football that eventually expanded to include the Saints and Texans. I remember my grandfather getting her all worked up every time LSU would start losing. He’d start talking about how bad the team always was and she’d get all ruffled and holler at him about not talking bad about her Alma Mater. He could give a rat’s butt about who won the game, he just liked to see her get feisty.
As I got older I watched more of my friends get more and more into the sport. One has season tickets to LSU and even goes to the games without her husband when he’s not feeling up to it. My Mother In Law watches while my Father in Law snores in his chair or watches sitcoms in the other room.
I sometimes wondered if it was a bit like Stockholm Syndrome. Forced to watch it at every social gathering and at home with their spouses, they eventually grew ravenous with love of the sport even after their spouses lost interest.
I’ve since altered my theory to include sports in general. Imagine my surprise a couple of years ago when I heard my own Mother trash talking about Formula One racing. Who was this strange creature?! She’d dodged the football bullet but got hit with the F1 craze. Woe is me when I make the mistake of calling during a race. Haha!
I thought I was immune too until I made a crucial error. You see, in trying to further educate myself so that I’d be better equipped to talk shit to my brother (a particularly favorite hobby of mine) a couple of years ago, I started paying attention to NHL hockey again.
We grew up watching NHL hockey and going to minor league games here in town. Raised to be fans of the New York Rangers, we consider them our family team. (Mark Messier will forever be my favorite player.) As individuals though, my brother and I root for separate teams. I’m a Colorado Avalanche fan myself. Once I moved out of my parents house, I really only paid attention to what was going on during the playoffs and not much then. However, one must be properly informed when talking shit so I began to do my research.
It started out with checking the scores online and maybe reading an article here or there. Then I started following a couple of teams on Facebook. I convinced The Hubs that I needed an Avs jersey for Christmas. I enjoyed watching the highlight reels so much on Facebook that when I saw I could see some of the games on HBO/Max, I started watching live when I happened to see one was on. At the start of this season I donned my beloved jersey and promptly signed up for ESPN+ so I’d be able to stream all of the games. I began teaching The Twins about the game.
Now I sometimes watch games even when my team isn’t playing. I’ve started collecting hockey cards. It’s not unusual to find me yelling at the TV at bad calls and cheering when there are fights. I follow trade announcements and read speculations about playoff seedings. I’ve become obsessed with the sport I often ignored as a kid in favor of reading or drawing. The Hubs rarely watches with me and on the off chance he does I usually end up fussing at him for talking too much crap. (Like my grandfather and grandmother, he loves to ruffle my feathers.)
So apparently I’m getting old and really into hockey. At least my team is doing better than my brothers!
Today I had to do something that made me uncomfortable. It logically wasn’t something that should make me uneasy after years of sales experience but it did. I had to ask a brand new customer to pay in advance for the items we needed to fix their scale. We’re buying the items from a vendor that we’ve never worked with before and with the age of our business and current credit history, credit accounts are never a shoe in. We’re working hard to power through some financial struggles and taking on more debt just isn’t a wise option even if we could guarantee we’d get approved for the credit account.
For some added context, we have a lot of potential for growth with this customer and they are coming to us because they are unhappy with the service they recieved from another company. They are putting a lot of trust in us based on a recommendation given to them by one of our other customers. I DO NOT want to lose them.
I have complete faith in The Hubs’ ability to take care of their problem and get their scale fixed. I know that once this job is done we’ll have their business for the long haul. I was afraid of my own shortcomings and lack of confidence in this conversation causing our failure. I was afraid of upsetting them and losing the job before he’d had the chance to really show them our value.
I called the customer to have this conversation on Thursday but they didn’t answer. I stressed all weekend long when I didn’t hear from them. My anxiety monster/imposter syndrome had me on edge. I very nearly put off the call today but I thought about how hard The Hubs has been working and knew it was time to nut up or shut up. They were expecting me to order products so we could fix their scale and I needed to do it ASAP.
I gave myself a mental pep talk, reminded myself that I needed to think with my customer’s wallet and not mine, took a deep breath, and made the call. After all that stress the whole conversation lasted no more than three minutes including pleasantries. The customer was completely unfazed and told me to send over the invoice so we could get the parts ordered. I hung up and breathed a sigh of relief then called my grandmother, Dear.
Dear is my Entrepreneurial Sherpa. Before he passed away, she and my Pop built their company from the ground up. She’s an incredible saleswoman, all around awesome person, and a wealth of knowledge. Pop was too. I keep a sign next to my desk that has a picture of them and says “W.W.P&D.D?… What would Pop and Dear do?” I swear she talks me off the ledge at least once a week and has listened to me cry as we navigated this business more times than I can count. That whole “think with my customer’s wallet instead of mine” is directly from her. It’s how I’ve grown our profit margins and learned how to sell with confidence. I never sell someone something they don’t need, but even when a customer needs your product the dollar signs can be daunting.
For some people what I did today may seem small. Heck, it’s not even close to my biggest sale. But I faced my fear of failure head on and didn’t let it prevent me from doing what needed to be done to provide for my family and take care of my customer. Today, I think I definitely did what Pop and Dear would do, and I’m damn proud of myself for it.
Today the Twins had a cheer clinic to go to and they were nervous about it. This is their first time being dropped off somewhere other than with family or at school. We didn’t know if any of their friends would be there. They’ve never tried cheer before. As we got out of the car and approached the building, they told me they were nervous. Without thinking I said, “Don’t be nervous! It will be fine!” Crazy Eyes at the same time said, “it’s okay to be nervous!”
It immediately hit me how right she was. I stopped walking, looked at the Twins and said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said not to be nervous. Your sister is right. It’s okay to be nervous, but let’s not let it stop you from having fun.” I gave them a hug and a kiss and held their hands as we walked to registration.
I’ve been thinking about that for the rest of the day. What I said was meant to be comforting and reassuring. It was said with good intentions. It wasn’t a bad thing to say, but it wasn’t the best thing to say either. It minimized their very understandable feelings and implied that being nervous was a bad thing. The fact of the matter is, I was a little nervous myself and if I’d been in their shoes, even as an adult, I would have been nervous too. Being nervous is only bad if it stops you from moving forward into something worthwhile.
I try my best to remember that I’m raising children who will one day be adults and not just dealing with the tiny person in front of me. How many times have I shamed myself for being nervous when I really should have just said, “It’s okay to be nervous!” and then kept moving forward? Too many to count. How many times have I fussed at myself mentally for being sad or frustrated instead of just taking a minute to sit with the emotion and recognize it for what it is before making my next move?
I made sure to thank Crazy Eyes for her insight and the reminder. The Twins had fun and even handled their performance well. The Trash Goblin has decided that cheer isn’t for her but is proud of herself for trying. Mag Pie loved it and can’t wait to cheer again. I walked away with a lesson learned.
Today we celebrated the seventh birthday of our Littlest Ladies. We always seem to do it in March even though their birthday is in February. In a way though, it’s fitting. They were born in February but we didn’t get to enjoy them at home until March.
The Twins were born at 33 weeks and spent a month in the NICU. Longest month of my life and most of it is a blur. We did our best to make the most of a rough situation though and I’m forever grateful to our amazing team of Doctors, Nurses, Aides, and even the sweet ladies in the cafeteria. We were so blessed to have supportive family and friends. Even coworkers who came and visited us in the hospital. I look back on that time with immense gratitude. I am humbled by the love and care that we received.
I’ll never forget our first night in the hospital after the pain killers and crazy meds from the c-section had mostly worn off. I tried to pump to make milk for my babies and came away with barely anything. I sobbed and felt like a failure. My body had already failed once and here I was failing again. (Postpartum guilt is a bitch Ya’ll.) I’d seen The Twins right after they wheeled me out of surgery but then we were taken in two different directions and I was stoned out of my gourd. My babies weren’t even on the same floor as me.
It was 2am but I wanted my babies and I was a mess. Donny’d been told that he could visit the NICU anytime. He groggily made his way to their floor and FaceTimed with me as long as I needed so I could see our sweet little girls. I took screenshots so I’d have pictures. Only later did I realize that my crazy faces were in the shots haha! They were so incredibly tiny but we knew they were healthy and strong. They were born fighters.
Mag Pie holding Daddy’s hand. Baby Trash Goblin.
On March 24th after weeks of praying and hours spent in the hospital we were blessed to bring our itty bitty Mag Pie home. She was so tiny and felt so strange to hold without all of those wires and tubes. She was so little that we had to roll the sleeves on her premie pjs.
The next day we got the call that The Trash Goblin had passed all of her tests during the night and was able to come home. We were overjoyed and so excited and scared shitless. We finally felt like Twin parents. We were home and on our own.
I can look back now on those NICU days and feel pride in how we handled it as a team despite how hard it was. I look back on them with gratitude for the acts of kindness big and small that we were given. It’s been seven years of daily learning. Some days are amazing and some days are insane but I am so grateful for the opportunity to experience all of it. One thing I can say with certain, I’d go through it all again for these girls without hesitation. Being their Mom is 100% worth every struggle, tear cried, and frustration experienced along the way.
Since I updated you all on myself the other day, here’s an update on the whole crew.
The Hubs and I bought a company in April of 2024. It’s a daily game of trial by fire that brings me joy, laughter, tears, and the bubble guts. I love him now more than ever but question our collective sanity/judgement on a regular basis. Our children are forcefully teaching him how to accept love and affection. He is frequently subjected to new skincare routines, hair styles, and always has new designs on his toenail polish thanks to our girls. This man was meant to be a girl dad. His journey with PTSD is ongoing but he’s used his trials to open up more to other veterans in similar situations and encourage them to get the help they need. I’ve never been more proud to be his wife.
Hard at work!
“The Boy” is a freaking giant and his new nickname is “Lurch” (as in the Adam’s Family). At a month shy of 13 he’s nearly 5’11 and wears size 13 boats on his feet. Poor boy grew so fast he’s forgotten how to use his knees and elbows I swear. I can no longer wash his shirts with mine or the hubs because we’re all wearing the same size and it gets confusing. He’s become quite the musician and plays keyboard, guitar, trombone, harmonica, and other random small instruments. We love him, he tolerates us. Welcome to the teenage years right?
Gigantor
Crazy Eyes” has grown into her eyes and yet they do indeed remain crazy. No shaking this nickname for her. As a true Gen Alpha she’s introduced words like “Riz”, “Sigma”, and “Preppy” into our household vernacular. She enjoys fashion, skincare, and stealing my shoes. She makes great grades and is a wonderful big sister. She still draws all the time and knows how to make us all laugh. Oh, she’s also only an inch shorter than me although she hasn’t even turned 11 yet. (Sensing a trend here?)
#skincare #sopreppy #riz
The Conqueror is now often called “Mag Pie” and has become obsessed with doing flips on her gymnastics bar. I have to chase her off of it at least once a day (usually immediately after she finishes eating dinner). She loves cooking with The Hubs and doing math (provided we can get her off the gymnastics bar). She loves wearing black and Wednesday Adams. (Mommy’s sweet little goth baby.) She’s remained the shy, quiet twin, so shy that she gets upset when we laugh at her loud farts. Seriously if she didn’t match her Twin I’d be concerned that she was switched at birth, poor thing. I’m not sure how growing up in this family will affect her but I can predict that therapy will be needed.
Toothless Grin
“The Hun” is now affectionately called “The Trash Goblin”. Lurch gave her the name and it stuck. She’s constantly stealing things from all over the house to make crafts with, including the trash and recycling bins. We had to give her her own craft desk to keep her chaos piles from taking over the entire kitchen table. She’s learning how to sew from my Mom and is really good at it. She’s a tiny ball of energy and talks from the moment she wakes up to the time her body finally gives out at night. She ran Biddy Cross Country this year and loved it and, although she claims she didn’t love soccer, she seemed to enjoy that as well. She is affectionate and snuggly and frequently needs to be reminded that not everyone wants hugs as often as she does.
Posing in the apron she made (peep that sweet neck tat haha!)
Moose and The Little Bad Dog live on. She’s still a tiny nightmare and he’s still a big aggressive lover who pretends that no one shows him affection anytime someone comes to visit. He is still allergic to life and she still refuses to poop when we let her outside. At almost 11 we’ve given up and just keep an eye on her.
Snuggly as ever.
All in all, we’re doing well. Thank you to everyone who’s helped us, laughed with us, and rooted for our crazy crew over the past year and a half. We love you madly.
468. That’s how many days it’s been since I last posted on this blog. Just a couple of months shy of a year and a half.
My last post, Today, was dark. I’d just lost one of my best friends, a woman who helped raise me, and had such an incredible impact on this world. Her death rocked me to my very core. Between that and other events of 2023, I fell into the deepest depression of my life.
The slip into depression felt gradual at the time but looking back it was more like a riptide. It pulled me under over and over again until about 6 months ago when I was finally able to see that it was time to come up for air. It took a couple more months for the heaviness to truly lift in a palpable way.
So many people tried to help me but I figured that because I didn’t feel sad and cry all the time it couldn’t be depression. I rationalized my behavior saying that I had no motivation, even for the things I loved, because I was working too hard and spread too thin. Running a company and raising kids is exhausting. I said I couldn’t focus because of my ADHD (only partially true) when even the things that used to make me happy couldn’t keep my drifting mind focused. I said needed daily naps because I wasn’t sleeping well at night. I wasn’t ready to see what was going on and once I did see, I didn’t know what to do.
The first step was realizing that something was really not right and admitting to it. The second was asking for help and actually accepting it. With the help of therapy, modern medicine, prayer, and my wonderful family and friends I’m finally feeling more like myself. Over the past 468 days I’ve rekindled a love of reading and Lego. I’ve become a Girl Scout Troop Leader. I’ve even learned more about industrial equipment than I ever thought possible since Donny and I purchased a company in April of ‘24.
Today was the first day that I’ve felt like writing so I swallowed my pride and fear and dove in. I’ve deleted and rewritten this post about a thousand times. I even wrote an entirely separate post before I started this one but it felt wrong to just focus on the happy without acknowledging the journey. (Don’t worry, you can read that one tomorrow.) I’ve always committed to honesty on this page and if my story helps just one person then my discomfort in disclosure is worth it.
I’m so thankful for my family who loved and supported me and let me heal in my own time. Even on my darkest days I was blessed to know that I was never truly alone. There was always someone to talk to if I was willing to reach out. My children were most often the only reason to get out of bed and while motherhood felt exceptionally hard I know it is such a blessing that I was still able to perform my duties during that time. I hope that one day when they’re older I’ll be able to share my story with them. Until then, I’ll continue to do my best to make good memories with them because I’ve already lost enough time to depression.
God bless the people who stood by me. The friends who didn’t hold it against me when I checked out. I missed weddings and joyous celebrations because I just couldn’t muster the motivation to be around happy people some days. Their love and understanding has helped me to forgive myself.
Thank you to the new friends that I’ve met who didn’t write me off as an absolute weirdo after speaking to me for more than 30 minutes. Fortunately for me they met me at my worst so I can only get more impressive from here.
If I’ve learned anything on this journey it’s that gratitude and faith are vital to my survival. It’s all too easy to focus on the dark when in reality there is so much light in my life. During a meeting with my Priest last year he reminded me of the story of Jesus calming the storm. Jesus invited Peter to join him as he walked on water and he did. He walked toward Christ but as soon as he gave into his fear he began to sink. The Priest said something that has stuck with me. He said that if we keep our eyes turned to God, he will handle the storm.
I still struggle, I still have doubts, but I’m trying my best to keep my heart turned toward the positive in my life, turned toward God, and open to love so that God can handle the storm.
Thank you for not forgetting about this crazy little blog. I love you all!
Mom Van Confessions 