Few New Paper Works

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Be spiritually rich, ❤ life.

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My First Etsy Sale!! (aka So Many Feels)

Could not be more stoked!  If you’d like a print, please do visit my Etsy shop :-)

Honestly, that something so beautifully representative of motherhood could come out of me, after everything. Humbled. Honored that someone sees the beauty in it too.

Btw, I am SO glad I had the volume up on my phone when it sold! Lol

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What a Dump

I have to get some things off my chest and out of my mind.  Ive been bottling things up. Feeling depressed. I haven’t been able to create much lately.  I’m not sleeping well.  I’m sad, lonely, overwhelmed, frustrated, exhausted.  I can’t keep it all in anymore.

My work-life balance has been way out of whack for weeks now.  March was incredibly busy, and April hasn’t let up. My boss is going to be out for another week, leaving me to run the show yet again (which I get to repeat in May and June – making it four months in a row).

Work consumes a majority of my life these days. I didn’t leave until just shy of 11 pm last night.  I’ll be working a good portion of this weekend.  I’ve got trial looming in the next couple weeks.     Plus I have to be this *person* at work, who clients vibe with and therefore want to pay, who knows her shit at all times, who has confidence even if she doesn’t feel it, who doesn’t make mistakes, miss deadlines, or fail to communicate regularly with clients.  It’s a lot, and it’s exhausting; especially with life’s curveballs.

I’ve continued on my quest to be more social, attending networking/community events with my growing circle of networking friends.  Yet I seem to feel more alone than ever. Case in point, I had some fun work news to share this week and no one answered my calls, no one responded by text. I had no one in my personal life to share it with.  It made me quite sad.  I wish I had more people I could call on (and I do mean actually call – texting leaves me unsatisfied and unfulfilled – hearing someone’s voice is so much better).

I think I’m still in shock and grieving over recent deaths in my corner of the universe too.  My first secretary, Shirley, suddenly died of liver cancer. Kara Tippets, who I didn’t have the pleasure of knowing personally, but was a spiritual inspiration in my life (I started going back to church while following her blog) recently passed away.  Of course, there has also been the news that my favorite high school teacher, a super hero in my life, is in hospice care.

My first experience with death as a young child (my Grandpa Andy’s funeral) left me extremely confused and scared.  When my great grandma died when I was 18, I had no skills and no support to work through it.  I haven’t had anyone in my life who could help me navigate my grief and I think I tend to revert back to that chilhood state in the face of death. 

I also haven’t really given myself a chance to process my feelings after seeing my best friend’s two year old have a seizure at a family barbeque a couple weekends ago.  As one of only three adults (of about 20 present) who didn’t completely freeze or break down, being the one to be on the phone with 911, wasn’t easy.  I’d do it again in a heartbeat, no question about that, because I love my friend and I adore her kids.  It was a bit traumatic, though. 

Watching a child go through all of that, being afraid for his life, watching as he was so confused and scared as he slowly came to, seeing the fear in his eyes as the doctors examined him all brought up feelings about my own childhood I didn’t know I had.  It reminded me of the story my mom tells about the seizure I had after I ran head first at full speed into the bathroom counter. Seeing my friend and her husband be so incredible for their baby made me wonder if I got the same kind of support when I needed it most.  My suspicions that I didn’t were realized when it came out in a talk with my mom about my friend’s kiddo that my parents didn’t even take me to the doctor after my seizure.  They didn’t even get me checked out.

Of course, my mom’s recent relapse into extremely poor boundaries and narcissism have triggered a storm of things inside me too. 

Last, but certainly not least, the universe is forcing me to wait a while before I get to take the next step towards the weight loss surgery.  I couldn’t get an appointment with the nutritionist until April 29.  It feels like a lifetime and the excitement I was feeling about this process has considerably waned because of it.   I’m trying not to be discouraged,  because honestly, it’s probably for the best.  Starting a diet right now?  Hah! But it’s still disappointing.

I wish I had better things to share.  More positivity to spread.  Light. Spirit.  Fun.  Something.  I feel like I’m back sliding emotionally.  Things were going so well and now I’m down in the funk again.  I need to get out. 

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You Don’t Get Any Credit

I had a fantastic morning in Court, winning one of the biggest motions I’ve argued to date in my lawyer life.  I was nervous, like I usually am before a big hearing, but I pulled myself together. Never let them see you sweat! I felt like my voice was shaking a bit, but I managed to artfully convince the Judge that he made a mistake and should reconsider his prior order!  I’m sorry if that doesn’t make a ton of sense, my dear readers, just trust me when I say it’s kind of a big deal.

I can’t begin to explain the adrenaline rush I get from being in Court and walking out victorious. It’s purely and absolutely intoxicating (especially on a hard case like today)!  While it’s not for everyone, I love my career.

Unfortunately, I dont really have anyone to celebrate these successes with. So since we’ve started talking more regularly lately, I have begun relying on her to fill that role in my life again.  Big mistake. 

She had the balls to tell me tonight, “Of course you’re a good arguer, I taught you that.”  Let’s get something straight real quick. She did not teach me to argue. If I wasn’t complying, I was at risk for harm. She beat all of the argument out of me. She made damn sure that I had no voice growing up.  Becoming a lawyer has been one way for me to try to reclaim my voice despite my circumstances.

It has not been an easy road to get here either. I have worked my ass off to create moments like today.

I’m the only person in my family who has a doctoral degree (and only one of a few with a bachelor’s), so there was no blueprint laid out for me; I had to figure it out on my own.  I had no financial support of any kind, but still found a way to put myself through school all on my own.  I worked at law firms during the day while going to school at night to get experience in the field and a foot in the door.  I started at the very bottom of the law firm totem pole and worked my way up over more than a decade to become the respected, competent, likeable, all around good lawyer I am today.  I have suffered through several incredibly egotistical and abusive bosses knowing it would eventually propel me forward. I have fought tooth and nail to prove myself time and time again because my pedigree isn’t Ivy League.  I have sacrificed love, friends, my mind, my health, and plenty of valuable life experiences to make it where I am today.  I did all of this; no one else.  

So yeah, I absolutely hate that she tried to take any kind of credit for me being successful at my career.  She’s done it before too. You know what, though?  Fuck that shit.  She doesn’t get to take credit for all of my hard work.  Besides birthing me, forcing me to watch law shows (that actually just showed me how lawyers often have more power than law enforcement), helping me get my first job in a law office, and giving me some general encouragement along the way, she had no role in this. This is not her success.

She has taken so much from me.  She can’t have this too. She can’t. I refuse to let her.

Damnit. Why do I insist on sharing with her in the first place? I am consistently disappointed in myself and her afterwards. For some reason, I still crave her approval and affection despite everything.  It makes me feel so weak and pathetic.  Is it so much to want a parental figure who supports you for exactly who you are, not how you make them feel about themselves? Is it too much?

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Easter Watercolor Poetry

Our God is the Resurrection!

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Used a page from a book of poetry, c. 1881.

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So This Happened Tonight

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Believe.  Believe in something, anything. Above all, believe in yourself.

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Affection Affective

Interesting that one person’s touch and affection can be incredibly soothing, comforting, and make you feel safe while another’s is repulsive, makes your skin crawl, and your stomach turn.

Saw my parents tonight and both tried their hand at affection.  I never shy away from a hug or cuddle from my dad.  My mom, on the other hand, I try to avoid except for a pleasant hug before I leave.

If you’ve dug into my blog at all, you know exactly why I feel the way I do about my mom.  So when she tried to rub my neck and I stiffened up, it’d make sense to you. Thankfully, she quickly stopped.  When my dad was stroking my hair, though, he put me at ease and made me want to fall asleep.  I could have stayed that way for hours.

Honestly, I think my mom was jealous because I was responding favorably to my dad; she wanted to get in on it.  Not only do I find her repugnant as a human being, it’s too little too late, and it feels fake as hell. 

You don’t get to abuse me unmercifully, not apologize or own up to your bullshit,  continue to insult and shame me to this day, and then get my love returned. That’s not how this works anymore.  I spent most of my life being forced to love you without condition, forced to lift you up, forced to be your emotional lover, to the point that there was nothing left of me.  Not anymore. I won’t ever let you into my inner circle again.  Never.  I wish it weren’t so, but it’s your own damn fault, not mine. 

So, yeah.

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