This year, my little Noey Bean starts kindergarten, and it is ripping out my heart!! I’m not ready to send him out into the world, he is still so sweet and innocent and happy, it is terrifying me that it … Continue reading
I have to start this post with a promise and a fact. As I stated several times before, I don’t judge anyone, I think everyone should live their life exactly as they see fit. Be happy and smile, ignore the negatives, spread the love, etc, etc. And I sincerely mean that from the bottom of my heart. No matter what my choices are in life, I am never looking around me and judging others for making different choices. That is craziness, and most assuredly, not me. I decided to share this with you all, my awesome readers, because I like to think if this little blog as a friendly place to chat and vent and share a little slice of me. No need to be offended by anything I ever say here, because I can promise you that if I knew I offended you, it would break my heart.
Okay, now where were we…………..ahhh yes…….
The Day I Woke Up Vegan.
So this will sound super hippy dippy to a lot of you, I’m sure, but I have been researching and learning to take charge of my newly realized empath abilities. If you don’t know what that is, it’s not vital to the story, but it’s an interesting condition, if you are so inclined to Google. :)
Basically, I am a super emotional person, and I have found that I am hyper sensitive to the emotions of people around me. A lot of empaths are written off as being too thin skinned and overly emotional, and a lot of empaths just accept that as the truth and feel like a loser all their lives. What a crappy way to live!!
I decided to go with the whole “knowledge is power” theory, and decided to do loads of research on it all. Like, all of the research, exhaustively. It’s how I do. As I learned more and more, I have found myself becoming more relaxed and more in tune with what is happening around me, instead of constantly bombarded and stressed. It also, happened to push me intuitively, to start watching a series of films through Netflix that greatly contributed to my total food revolution.
Perhaps a catalyst to all of this, was at my 3 and 5 year old’s recent dr check up. Noah, at 5 years old, weighs exactly the same as Sara, my 3 year old. My skinny little Noahbean has been instructed to put on some serious poundage in the next two months, when he will go in for a weight re check.
My kids are all very healthy eaters, and Noah certainly holds his own at meal time, often times finishing off anyone’s plate that has any leftovers on it. What the doctor recommended, to aid in his weight gain, is Pediasure. Now, I don’t know about you, but looking at the gross list of sugars and chemicals on the label of the Pediasure drinks, sure didn’t sound like a healthy way to get added nutrition. I waffled back and forth with the idea, but ultimately decided I couldn’t serve my baby the chemical laden goo with a clear conscious. I decided that I would treat him myself with healthy, whole foods. Added fat and calories from real food like nuts, and smoothies filled with fruits and veggies, so sugar and no unpronounceable chemicals.
It seemed no coincidence when I was drawn to the Netflix film Fed Up, and subsequently, Fat, Sick & Nearly Dead; Fat, Sick & Nearly Dead 2; Forks Over Knives; Food Inc; and Vegucated, just to name a few. The two that really jolted me to my senses were Food Inc and Vegucated.
Now, I’m not a stupid person. Every time I ate a burger, or bacon, or chicken, etc, I knew exactly where it came from. I knew an animal died, and said animal was on my plate. There was still a massive disconnect though. To see the conditions that commercial animals are held in…….Well, it was eye opening, and that’s all I have to say. It is super easy to look up this information for yourself, if you are so inclined. If you are not so inclined, that’s okay too. :)
So the morning after watching these films, and yes, I absolutely binge watched them, thank you Netflix, I woke up realizing that I couldn’t support this lifestyle anymore. My heart was just broken, I couldn’t imagine carrying on as if I hadn’t seen what I had seen. That day, we stocked up on all 100% vegan foods, mostly fresh produce, grains, legumes, real food stuff that is pure nutrition, not chemicals and much less murder-y. lol
The amount of choices available for a vegan lifestyle is pretty overwhelming. It’s awesome. Also, I feel good knowing that I am feeding my family foods that can nourish and heal them. There are so many studies supporting a plant based way of eating, the health benefits, the disease curing, ailment curing, you name it. It just seems silly for me in my life right now, not to do this.
So yes, as of this moment, and having started on April 25, 2015, this mama is 100% veggie fueled. And I did it all cold turkey…..errrr….cold tofurkey? lol I can tell you that I feel good. Really good. And I will definitely be reporting soon on how my whole food fix works on Noah’s weight gain. He is definitely loving all the fresh food and yummy smoothies, so I don’t predict any problems with him happily enjoying the change.
UPDATE May 28, 2015:
It has been over a month since I have plunged into this new lifestyle, and I am very happy to report that my entire family has jumped on board with me. I will admit, we have not been 100% vegan, but we have been 100% vegetarian. And my skinny little Noahbean, who needed to gain weight and was prescribed Pediasure? Well, I am ecstatic to report that through all whole, plant based foods, I have been able to stack on a good 6 pounds of weight on him, in just about a month’s time!! Mama has dropped a few pounds as well, and everyone is enjoying the new plant based menu. I’m looking forward to where this journey takes us in the future. So far, so awesome!! :)
Bear with me, I swear I have more happy, positive posts in the works!
I have been spending a lot of time working on myself these last few months, since the crash and burn of last year’s stresses. It’s bizarre how, once I clear my mind and fill it with healing thoughts, I am able to so clearly see what has brought me to where and who I am today. Bizarre, and deliciously powerful!
I have this inner fear of losing my loved ones, which was taught to me at a very young age, both by anxiety riddled adults, and often times, abuse. When my dad was late coming home from work, my mother would pace around the house, wringing her hands and peering out the window, begging for him to get home safely. If she heard sirens, she immediately became frantic, unable to leave the window until he pulled into the driveway.
This was, of course, before the age of cellphones, and as a young child, watching your mother frantic and worried constantly that death would swoop in at anytime, well, it taught me to worry. A lot.
I used to have nightmares of my parents dying, and when we would be left home alone, I found myself wringing my hands, scared senseless if I heard sirens, and constantly worried until they arrived home safely. This was always dismissed and laughed off, leaving me embarrassed on top of the stress.
When I was in second grade, as most children, I was slow at getting ready for school in the morning. My mom got sick of telling me to hurry along, and so one morning, she told me she was leaving.
Imagine, at 7 years old, having your mother tell you she was leaving you, that you would never see her again, because you took too long to get ready in the morning!
I remember having my head down on my desk and crying through most of the school day. The teacher kept asking me what was wrong, but I couldn’t bear to tell her that I was so awful, my own mother was leaving me forever. Looking back, oh how I wish I would have shouted it from the rooftops!!! But I didn’t, I just made it through the day, and then felt sick on the bus, as I waited to see if my mother would be at home waiting for me.
As I walked down the hill to our home, I saw that the garage door was open, and obviously missing was the giant 1974 Monte Carlo that my mom drove. I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces as I walked through the front door. I saw my dad in the kitchen, home earlier than usual.
“Where’s mom?” I sheepishly asked him in a voice barely louder than a whisper.
“She left. She didn’t want to put up with you anymore, so now she’s gone.”
“Is she coming back?” I asked this, hoping and praying for a glimmer of hope, some glimpse of warmth that would comfort my broken, seven year old heart.
“I don’t know, I doubt it.” That was his answer. I went into my bedroom and collapsed on the bed, wishing I was never born, feeling afraid, sobbing for what felt like hours.
Miraculously, she returned around dinner time. She seemed very pleased with herself when she found me broken and drowning in tears, my eyes so red and swollen I could hardly see her.
As it turns out, she was simply visiting her mother, but decided to teach me a lesson. What I have learned from that lesson, so many years later, is that she is a very sick person and not someone who can be trusted.
You never want to believe that. You don’t ever want to think that you can’t even trust or count on your own parents, but you know, sometimes that happens. I saw this in many ways over the years, but more pronounced when my father kicked me out of the house at just barely 18, and she “washed her hands” of the entire situation, claiming she couldn’t get in the middle of us fighting, she was “powerless”. Wow. Even then, after such a ridiculous, blatant betrayal, I didn’t realize she couldn’t be trusted. I didn’t see how toxic she really was.
Three years ago, when all the crazy drama happened with my dad, the fight that left us completely removed from the family, I still did not see it. How she manipulated the situation, played the innocent victim, then pretended nothing happened. I blamed everything completely on my dad, but they are equally guilty.
Finally, I can see that! Once again, as is her pattern, she abandoned me. Now, this could easily enrage a person, make them bitter, revengeful, you name it. But as I am working through all of my past and present, understanding who I am and why, I can only be thankful for the clarity to see things for what they truly are. There is nothing in this world that would allow me to treat my children the way I was treated as a child. And not having these toxic people in our lives has been such an amazing blessing to us as well! It was them pushing us away that got us back in touch with Abe’s family, something that has been very pleasant and healing. There are no dark clouds or negativity floating over everything we do. No judgement, no drama, only love and happiness. Pure hippie bliss. :)
Very rarely, the kids go to her house to visit, where she tries to show them love with money, purchased things to prove her love. They only stay a few hours, and even in that short time, they bring back snippets of hostile energy. Hateful things said under breath, underhanded compliments, being questioned about us, etc. Thank goodness the visits are very few and far between.
Yes, I wish things were different. I see the tv dad that loves his kids and wish with all my heart that I had that. My children have it and then some, so I can be happy for them, knowing we are giving them what I never had. I see my friends with amazing friendships that they have with their mothers now, and it does make me envy them. It’s something I will never have, but something I know I can give to my own kids.
I also know that there are things that happened in both of my parents lives that shaped who they became. It is and was their choice to treat me the way they did, however, regardless of past injustices in their lives.
That was a load off my heart! It feels good to pull these experiences out, examine them, learn from them, and then set them free. It’s a heavy load to carry, so it is an amazing relief to watch them float away into nonexistence.
Choose Happy. No matter what happened to you, what you have survived, what you fear, you hold the power to choose happy!! What an amazing superpower to have, don’t you think? :)
Of course I know what today is. I’ve never forgotten, it’s not my nature to forget such things. I’m sure he thinks I forgot, he thinks very little of me.
When my mother was pregnant with me, it was before the days of regular ultrasounds for gender reveals. The nurses would guess what you were having based on the fetal heartbeats, and amazingly, 50% of the time they were spot on. On that cold, December day, when my belated birth was finally scheduled, my parents had no clue whether I was a boy or a girl. Being the first born after the struggle of infertility, you would think that would be enough.
You would think.
The doctor met my father in the hallway. Being a hilarious man, at least to himself, he decided to follow tradition and exclaimed with delight that I was a boy!! My father was overjoyed! How exciting! Working in construction, his family gave him a gift when they were expecting me, a sign to attach to his work van, advertising his business with a big proud “& Sons” at the end. The dream was real!
Except it wasn’t.
That doctor told all of the waiting fathers that the baby was a boy, and he thought it was hilarious. When my father found out I was indeed a girl, he wasn’t laughing. And pretty much, he has kept that bitter look of disappointment every time he has looked at me ever since.
What a way to start a relationship, right? So much of my childhood was spent desperately seeking his approval, yearning so badly for any kind of positive recognition from my father. I can’t remember ever in my life feeling loved by that man. Not once. If he walked through the room and I was having a snack, he would look at me in disgust and tell me I was going to be fat, just like my mother. When I had to get glasses, he told me I would have to start plucking my eyebrows so I didn’t look like a man. When I got dressed up for school dances, posed in front of the camera before leaving with friends, he would criticize the way I stood, telling me it made me look even fatter than I already was. Brought home A and B report cards? Why aren’t they all A’s? Maybe I needed to study more, to get those grades up.
What in the actual hell??
I doubt myself to this day with a special kind of self loathing that can not possibly be built alone. It took over 30 years to hate and doubt myself this much, and I have my father to thank for that.
While he is being doted on and told how wonderful he is today by my Stockholm Syndrome poster child mother, and siblings who never had the pleasure of knowing the same monster as I did growing up, I will resist the urge to wish him to choke on his birthday cake. Instead, I will take pleasure in knowing that I am finally free from his poison. I have so much damage to try and undo, so much pain and suffering to heal from.
I will also take this opportunity to be thankful for the amazing Daddy that my husband is to our children!!! They are so lucky and so blessed to have such a magical relationship with him!! Thank goodness they will never know this empty, dreadful feeling!!
And for that matter, I thank my lucky stars for being blessed with such an amazing man, constantly dealing with this crazy, broken woman that he calls his wife!! I don’t know how he does it, but I sure am glad to call him mine. I may have had an awful, hellish upbringing, but I now end each day knowing how loved and important I am to the people that truly matter, my husband and my babies. God is GOOD!
It was back on July 1st, 2014 that we officially decided to cut the cord. We were paying an insane amount of money for cable tv, and at the same time, watching far too much as well. There have definitely been times that I have missed catching up on the Duggars, or crazy housewives, the kids sometimes miss their Nickelodeon and Disney marathons, and Abe misses watching MLB and NHL games, but guess what? We survived!
More than that, we have most definitely thrived!!
Without the constant commercials reminding us of can’t miss marathons, television has become an occasional activity, between more productive hours of reading, creating arts and crafts, playing with forgotten toys, and just spending more quality time together. What a blessing!
Now, don’t get me wrong, we still enjoy watching tv, and we certainly haven’t cut it out completely.
With free, over the air tv, we get almost 40 channels! We have several PBS stations, including a 24 hour a day children’s station. We also get Qubo, another all kids station, along with several retro themed stations that I adore. On Saturday mornings, we watch classic 80’s cartoons with the kids before a day filled with activities. Heman, Ghostbusters, Archies, all kinds of gems to be found!
We also have a Netflix subscription, this is a treat for us, and at only $8 a month, it is a very affordable way to watch movies together as a family and even catch up on the cable tv shows from last season. (Have you Walking Dead fans caught SyFy’s Z Nation?!?! Oh my goodness, I love it just as much as Walking Dead!! Citizen Z forever!! :3 )
The occasions when we really, truly miss cable tv are few and far between. We certainly don’t miss the price tag, and I wouldn’t give up the gained quality time we have as a family without it.
Last year at this time, the idea of cutting the cord would have made me laugh, but boy, am I glad we did it!
Antenna tv has recently started playing old re-runs of Newhart, the Bob Newhart show from the 80’s where he and his wife move from New York to Vermont to run an old, historical inn, centered in a small town. Just the theme song alone makes me happy, and in fact, it was the opening of this very show, with all of the gorgeous, colorful views of Vermont that has made me secretly long to live there since I was very young.
Last night’s episode happened to really strike a chord with me, and I couldn’t help but chuckle that it took a classic tv show to help me get over something that has been eating away at me since Christmas day.
In the episode, in classic sitcom fashion, a series of events occurs where Stephanie and Joanna happen across Michael’s diary, where in it, he happens to say a lot of very not nice things about all of the people he is closest to. As they read the entries, they understandably get upset, sad, angry, ultimately hurt that someone so close to them is saying such awful things about them.
Now, Michael is not mean to anyone directly, quite the opposite. This is why it was so upsetting! They assume that everything is storybook happy, everyone loves everyone and no one ever thinks a single bad thing about anyone else. But realistically, as Bob points out, everyone is guilty of thinking bad thoughts about everyone else. That’s just human nature. Michael’s thoughts were private, and not meant for anyone else to see.
In a somewhat similar situation, I was shown hurtful words said about myself by someone very close to me, things that truly broke my heart and that have since then, left me feeling sad and at times quite angry. I don’t believe this person even knows what happened, and certainly, they haven’t and would never say these things to my face. Quite possibly, taking the context in mind, it was things said out of anger and frustration with someone else. Regardless, besides wishing I was never shown or pulled into the nonsense, I have let it eat away at me and tarnish what I thought was an amazing, loving relationship.
Last night’s episode of Newhart, hearing Bob’s infinite wisdom, realizing that I was never meant to see or know those things were said, and being reminded that we are all guilty of the same thing, we just don’t usually have it shoved in our faces, well, it was a light bulb moment.
Thank you Bob Newhart and classic tv, for having timeless wisdom and for getting through this girl’s thick skull. And yes, I still want to live in Vermont. :)
I cannot begin to express my joy for the new year finally gracing us with her presence, my spirit is still happily spinning around and giggling at all the possibilities that this new beginning brings. I can finally shake the water off my back and begin drying off, after a year of slowly drowning in sorrow and anxiety, feeling lost and hopeless…….it was dark and scary, but here I am, pruned skin slowly warming as the waterlog slowly evaporates.
This air is sweet. It is fresh and filled with hope, something that I lost so early in 2014. Being overly optimistic can only carry you so far, so I learned. I was tripped one too many times and that’s when the water got deeper, creeping into my nostrils, stealing my breath.
Once the water crept in, my footing lost, I couldn’t stop the murky waters from filling my lungs, very literally making it hard for me to breathe. I found myself suddenly forgetting all other worries and stresses, consumed for my genuine inability to simply take a deep breath. I felt I was suffocating, and the very idea gripped my chest like a vice, my heart pounding, wondering if it would burst from my rib cage….. And then it would fade, my mind would cloud over with another tumbleweed of stress over car repairs, or unpaid bills and the mounting avalanche of debt rumbling in the background, always coming closer, always in the background, always a threat.
The phone became an alarm, a constant reminder that things were crumbling. The moment it rang, my stomach knotted and my knees were weak. The answering machine would catch the call for me, but the warning bell had sounded, and even if I enjoyed a solitary moment of rest, of mindless enjoyment in reading a story with my babies, or snuggling while watching a cartoon, it was that quickly stolen and murdered before my very eyes.
Enough became enough, and so the phone was simply unarmed. I pulled the plug and was instantly filled with near maniacal laughter, tears of joy and relief streaming down my cheeks. Was it the responsible thing to do? Bury my head in the sand while my broken mind tried to come up with solutions to problems too complex for it to understand anymore? No. But I felt glimmers of sanity the moment the plug was pulled, and that began to lead to my very slow, and still in progress recovery.
I got so used to falling in 2014, that I stopped standing up again. I crawled and only when there was absolutely no other option. I began expecting the worst, and I was never disappointed. When Desi got sick in August, it was devastating. I honestly thought he was dying, and honest and truly, he certainly could have. He had an abdominal obstruction, requiring hospitalization and a lot of money we absolutely did not have. Part of my regular, everyday anxiety is a fear of something happening to my loved ones, so this left me depressed beyond comprehension.
Depression is bizarre to those who have never truly experienced it. Until you feel it’s icy grip, you cannot possibly understand the power it has to completely shut down a person’s life. I have tried to explain it, but words can’t even begin to touch the anguish and despair that it brings along in it’s bag of nasty tricks.
Strangely enough, it was when Abe started stressing out about money and bills that I was able to snap to my senses. I am so familiar with the dark veil of depression that I always find myself overcompensating to make certain he never falls too deeply into it.
Every self help guru message, every happy go lucky mantra, any and all good things I could possibly come up with, I was showering Abe with. It became an obsession, playing happy and tending to him, reassuring him, distracting him, whatever I could do to keep him from falling, from even stepping foot near that nasty cesspool that still gripped my soul. This is around the time that we found out about donating plasma for money, something Abe did to fund Christmas for our babies.
I didn’t have the worry of the phone ringing non stop at all hours of the day, and the mail reminders are far fewer. As Christmas drew closer, I could feel hope beginning to creep back into my mind, shining some much needed light around the cob webs and the tumbleweeds. We had a very modest Christmas, but I had some cherished time spent with family that absolutely made the entire Christmas season for me. Gifts are nothing. My babies won’t look at this Christmas as “The One Where Santa Brought Us Cheap Toys.” Instead they will remember visiting family, having our Christmas Eve get together, the nearly two weeks of vacation time Abe took so we could just spend the day watching Netflix, or playing board games, or just sitting and watching them play blissfully together. It was magic, it was re energizing, and it was exactly what this mama needed so badly.
No matter what, we have each other. That. That, my friends, is what matters, and that is exactly what finally pulled me from the water.
I’m not “fixed”, but I’m doing better. My vision is clearing, I can see who and what matters. I am leaving 2014 with a long list of heartache, from Abe’s car accident and constant car repairs, mounting debts and rotten luck, to hearing about a family member being diagnosed with leukemia and even more family members so deep in the murky waters they contemplated suicide. It’s dangerous on these shores, so I am relieved to see them behind me at this moment.
Writing this down, I can’t help but feel utterly nude before you. I’ve shown you my cards, I’ve admitted to severe weakness. So not my style. But it’s real. It’s scary, and it’s awful, but I know I am not alone. Neither are you. And it does get better. It has to. Otherwise, all of us wading in this nonsense will grow gills and become kickass merpeople and we shall rule the world.
We have had some mild weather these last few weeks, even seeing highs in the 60’s, a real treat for winter time in the midwest! But the cold has crept back in, and in sheer protest, either from age or Murphy’s Law, our lovely furnace has decided that it will be taking an extended vacation, leaving us in the cold.
Abe’s reading up repairs and tutorials online, and I am crossing all my fingers and toes, praying for a break. We have always had to fight our heater at the old house, I guess it would feel strange not to fight it here.
Meanwhile, sounds like a good time to snuggle with the babies, both two and four legged, and sip some hot chocolate while we cheer on our own Mr Fixit.
Daddy, Daddy, he’s our man, if he can’t fix it……we will be cold. :P
Abe *thinks* he knows what the problem is, he thinks we need a new flame sensor. In the meantime, he was able to clean the old one and got the heater working again. *happy dance* We are really hoping and praying that we can kind of baby it until we are able to order a replacement part. In the meantime, we are nice and toasty warm though! :)
I’m a sucker for dream interpretation, and I have to admit that I have had some pretty significant breakthroughs by taking the time to really dig into the possible meanings of my dreams. Of course, there are those, like my darling husband, who think that dreams are just dreams and mean nothing, but isn’t that a boring way to live? :)
So I had a dream this morning, that I went into a small town cafe. It was an older building, not fancy, definitely needing upgrades. I was meeting my grandma, her friend, and a few other people that I remember working with in my past, all supportive maternal figures who hold warm places in my heart.
As we met, and found our seats at a long table, some who had chosen a seat with their back to the wall got up and moved so that they were facing the wall from their seats. In front of the table, on the large, plain wall, was an array of gorgeous art frames, all empty, waiting for their masterpiece. We all took seats, looking at this wall, these empty frames, anticipating the greatness that was coming. There was no other indication that anything was going to happen, or a time frame in any way. We just all knew that something awesome was coming, and we all wanted good seats for the action.
So, interpretation time. Obviously this has to tie into the new year, new beginning. I have had such a sense of relief with this trying year coming to an end, I am practically giddy that it’s almost over! I have only the highest and most positive of hopes and dreams for the coming year, I know big things are coming, and they are worth waiting for. I think all of the maternal figures sitting and waiting with me are there for my support. Even with those who have passed, I know that they would be cheering me on and encouraging me, offering invaluable wisdom for overcoming the darkest times that have been smothering me, making it very literally hard to breathe.
The overall feeling was love and hopeful. I felt taken care of, I felt safe, and I knew good things were coming.
This dream was very therapeutic for me, I need this in my life so much right now!
Maybe dreams don’t really “mean” anything, but for me, I have always felt like dreams hold the key to better understanding where I am in the world, and often times, they have the ability to show me things I’ve been to frantic to see in waking hours. However you choose to see it, here’s wishing you sweet dreams!
I can’t believe that already, in the blink of an eye, another Christmas is here, and quickly slipping through my fingers, soon to become a dreamy memory.
Next year at this time, we will have three babies in three different schools! Not to mention homeschool pre-school lessons for Sara, before she starts school the following year. I’m not ready for this!!
This year has not been kind to us. It seems like we never really got back on our feet, every time we thought we were finally a step ahead, we would get knocked ten back. It was rough. I won’t lie, I suffered severe anxiety and depression this year, worried about putting groceries on the table at times, balancing bills and emergencies like car repairs and hospital bills. We quickly realized we had bitten off more than we could chew and are still struggling for solutions, though I am praying that there is an end in sight.
I had planned a magical birthday party for Isabella, that had to get cancelled and completely revamped. I had hoped to get her the American Girl doll of the year, Isabelle, the blonde haired, pink streak, ballerina!! If ever there was a doll made just for my Bella, it was Isabelle!! I planned on taking her to the American Girl store and getting her the doll then having a birthday lunch at the cafe. I planned on it, but then life laughed and we improvised. Reservations got cancelled, party was greatly downsized to a home made cake and inexpensive gifts, and as sad as I was, she was completely unphased. She gushed over her simple cake and gifts and reminded me how lucky we are to just have each other. (She did finally get the Isabelle doll for Christmas, thanks to her amazing daddy donating plasma and literally spending blood money to buy the silly thing! A story for another day!)
Thinking we would just be able to scrape by and start getting back on our feet, we were then suddenly hit with a major health problem with Desi. He had an abdominal obstruction which required hospitilization, fluids, several x rays, antibiotics, and oh yeah, a massive hospital bill. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Obviously, Desi is family and takes priority over non necessity bills. Unfortunately, bill collectors like to get paid, and hassle the crap out of you if you can’t make their payments. Yeah, so, multiply that anxiety by a thousand…..
As this year is quickly ending, the smell and promise of a fresh new start is intoxicating. I have so many hopes and dreams for this new year, starting with conquering my severe anxiety and depression. I know I am strong and powerful and capable of great things. I have the ability to turn things around, see only the good in all situations, and to take that good and run with it. I can’t and won’t let silliness interfere with what matters, and that, my friends, is exciting!
I hope that 2014 was far kinder to you than it was to me. But if you had a rough go of it these past twelve months, then I hope that you have an amazing, life changing, happy and empowering 2015!! Let’s make this our year!! We are powerful and we can and will achieve greatness! Kiss the negativity goodbye and inhale the promise of a new beginning!
This motivational message was brought to you by the self reflecting power of another Christmas come and gone far too fast! Breathe it in, devour the moment, and live for your happiness. Be happy and know that no matter what, you are loved. <3