Confession:
I dropped out of college.
The Unbalance:
What was your first thought thought when you read that?
"That's not smart of her to do that"
"You have access to a high quality, low coast education and you're not going to take that?"
"What if your husband dies? What are you going to do since you didn't get a degree?"
Let me tell you the story.
I've mentioned not really excelling in my academic studies while I was in High School and it was no different when I got to college. I always struggled, mostly with tests. After the husband and I got married in April 2008, we headed back to school. At the beginning of June I started getting sick and I was put on bed rest. Each week I would get worse and each week, the doctor told me to stay on bed rest for another week. I had to quit my job, I fell behind in school, like way behind. By the time I could actually get out of the house and feel like I was functioning properly I had missed half the semester. I was failing all my classes. I went and talk to the academic office to see what I could, to see if I could defer this semester and kind of start over. They told me that was impossible and that I would probably get kicked out. Trying to figure out what to do that week, I just about went crazy. Every day I thought about dropping out, but worried about what to do with my life. I didn't have a job or any prospect of getting one, we weren't planning on starting our family for at least another year, so what would I do?
I was a complete mess. I probably spent more time down on my knees then anything else, trying to get some kind of guidance. Then, one day it finally came! I knew the right thing do was to drop out.
Not gonna lie though. I was terrified. I was constantly being told that if I wasn't in school, that I needed to be a mom. And if I wasn't going to be a mom, that I needed to be in school. And what would I do with my life if I wasn't doing any of those things. I wasn't progressing, I was feeling a lot of pressure to do and be what everybody else thought I should be.
So, despite not knowing what I was going to do with my life I took a leap of faith and followed that prompting.
For the next two months were the most most awful months I believe of my life. I just sat at home literally doing nothing. Have you ever heard of Stargate? It's a SyFy show that my husband loves. It has aliens, and space ships and alternate realities. It has 10 seasons. Well, I watched all 10 seasons.....in 2 weeks. I also went and bought a beta fish, which we called Zoey (and later we figured out it was a boy) and I started talking to it. Like having conversations. So now you see... crazy..and no life.none.zero.nada.
In October I FINALLY found a job that was great for me. I was making enough money to support us and I was able to meet new people everyday. But I was still struggling. People that came into the office would ask what I was doing with my life. They'd ask if I was going to school or they'd get a little more personal and ask when we were gonna have kids. I felt like everybody was unsatisfied with my choices. So when they'd ask me, I would lie and say, "I'm just taking from school, I'm gonna go back soon." Knowing, that I wasn't on a break and that I wasn't going back.
That's where the unbalance began. I was so concerned about what everybody thought about me, that I forgot I had made the right choice for ME.
Finding the Balance:
Once I started working more and accepting and realizing and of course living that I had made the right choice. I wasn't afraid to tell people, that I dropped out of college and I'm not planning on going back.
We are too focused, for some reason, on what other people think of us and what other people expect from us. Why do we do that? Why do we care so much about other people's opinions?
When, really we should be concerned about what our Father in Heaven wants us to do. It's hard, sometimes to do that. Because, physically, God isn't with us all the time. But we're surrounded by others all the time, that have there own opinions, so I think it's easier to focus on that.
We just need to change our focus.
So, I, without any fear tell all who ask, that I dropped out of school and it was the right decision for me. Is there a chance that something could happen to my dear husband? Maybe. Am I going to be presented with opportunities that I want to experience, but I won't because I didn't finish school? Most likely. But I have faith and confidence in the fact that God has led me to where I am today and I have a pretty fantastic life. So I have no doubt in the future He still take care of me.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Confession #2
Confession:
I expect my husband to read my mind.
The Unbalance:
Am I asking too much?... ok, probably. But in some small, and I'm sure ridiculous way, I feel justified. This Friday, October THEE 8th my husband and I went on our first date and began our journey of love, laughter and let's be honest here LOTS of miscommunication.
So, after knowing someone for 3 years, 2 1/2 of those years have been spent married, you'd assume that you would know each other pretty well.
Be able to finish each other's sentences.
Know, by the look on their face, how their day went.
How they like their undies folded.
How, one of you has a little bit of an OCD problem and has to buy everything at the grocery store in even numbers and that you don't argue about it. Ever.
You get the jist right? Ok.
My husband does not fall under this category. Each day feels like I'm trying to get to know him all over again and I'm trying to explain my life to him like on our very first Taco Time date. Most likely because he's working on the computer or doing his homework. So everything I say goes in one ear and out the other. Actuallyscratch that. I think my words travel across the room to his ear, hit an imaginary wall and then fall to their death, where I have to revive them later and try to force them back into the very ear that killed them. Tragic I know. Common? Every day of my life. My poor words march to their death like those flies that get snatched up by that Venus Fly Trap. Lost forever, until the next day where another innocent fly meanders about and the same harrowing thing happens again.
So, who's to blame for making me expect a mind reading husband?
I blame romantic movies, at least in part.
Have you seen the movie Only You? It's about a girl who is convinced her soul mate is man with a certain name that she heard from a fortune teller. She flies to Italy to find him, and another guy falls in love with her, but sees that she is determined to play this soul-mate thing out. So he agrees to help her find the man. They track him down at a hotel, and she sets up a date, and the guy who loves her (her true soul-mate) buys her a gift for the date. It's a pair of shoes. They are the right size. They are the right color. They are the right style. They are exactly the perfect shoes for the outfit she is planning to wear. Cinderella herself could not have possessed a more ideal shoe.
What man in the world can do this?!?!?!
This why those movies are so popular, by the way-because we all want to believe there is someone out there who could discern our every need, sometimes fulfilling needs we didn't even know we had. And so we fall in to the trap of "If I have to ask, it doesn't count." or "If you really loved me, you would know what I wanted."
I also blame the way us females think. I think sometimes...(ok, most of the time) we get caught up in our emotions running our lives and we start to assume everyone this is way, running their lives with complicated emotion, I'm starting to realize though, men don't think this way. Possibly ever.
The other day I had a MEGA-breakdown. Something very silly and unquestionable NOT my husband's fault mad me upset. Part of what I struggle with, with my PPD, is that I get fuming mad at the flip of a switch, most often over very menial things. When we arrived home I informed my husband I was upset at him and felt like screaming. After a few hours of only a handful of words, I told him I needed to get out of the house and be alone for a bit and he told me to go take a drive. I somehow arrived at K-Mart, where there were only a few people wondering the aisles as aimlessly as I was. I bought some new jeans and a new hat, because I've decided to become a hat person.
Upon buying these things, (which by the way-didn't make me feel better) I got back in the car and headed home where dinner awaited me. We ate in silence and my husband just stared at me. When we were finished he asked me, "What's wrong? Why are you so mad and sad all the time?" Which began the waterfall of tears. I told him I didn't even know why I was this way and I was as confused as he was. I told him I felt terrified I would never overcome this roller coaster of emotion I'd been on and be myself again. I went and laid down in bed where he followed me and let me stain my pillow with mascara. I told him I couldn't explain it and asked him to say something, anything to help me feel better. He said, "I feel like everything is my fault."
Okay, now this was the wrong answer.
I try hard not to be a selfish person, but during this moment I felt entitled to be. I needed him to focus on me. I cried even harder. I went to grab my phone to call my mother who, without fail always has something wise to say that makes me feel better. When Will grabbed me and said, "Talk to me! I want to help! What do you want me to do?"
Finally my moment had arrived. I had an answer that would solve all our problems.
"I WANT YOU TO READ MY MIND! I'M STRUGGLING AND YOU DON'T SEEM TO BE LISTENING! ALL I WANT IS SOME SYMPATHY HERE!'
Then, miraculously, my husband showed up and get this...COMMUNICATED with me!
PRAISES!!
He said exactly what I needed to hear, and gave me some very easy, uncomplicated advice that made me give him kisses.
Think of this:
When I start stacking up empty milk cartons and cereal boxes until they perch unnaturally two or three feet about the brim of the kitchen garbage can, waiting for my husband to take it out to the trash. After knowing each other for a mere 3 years, I have learned that my husband would do just about anything for me. He runs hard and fast, like a train on a track, and the only problem is that if the track doesn't happen to go past the garbage can, he genuinely doesn't see the trash piling up. So, I say, "Honey, could you please take out the garbage?" and he says, "Sure." And he does it. MIRACLE!
I admit part of me, really wishes he would just the initiative and look for things like that. But alas, I don't have a mind reading husband.
Finding The Balance:
Let's pause for a moment and take a second to think about this little incident. Picture a scale if you will and put my silly tantrum on one side of it. Now, on the other side, put a husband who honors his priesthood, who loves and serves the Lord, who works everyday at a slightly demanding and time consuming job, and who goes to school full time so that I can be home taking care of our daughter, who loves me enough to let me have some alone time when I need it, and who values my role as a mother and honestly wants to help me through my PPD. Put all those things on the other side of the scale and you tell me, Do you think things are in place? Do you think, in fact, that this might be my soul-mate after all?
In most relationships there's a whole bunch of good along with a pretty hefty dose of not-so-good. I think when we choose to focus on the good, it becomes easier to see each other as I believe our Father in Heaven sees us. And that my friends, is a much happier way to live.
So, do I wish my husband could read my mind? Yeah, that would be great. Should I expect him to read my mind when he honestly doesn't have a clue what's going on? Nope, not ever. I confess, however, on my bad days it's really really hard to remember that.
I expect my husband to read my mind.
The Unbalance:
Am I asking too much?... ok, probably. But in some small, and I'm sure ridiculous way, I feel justified. This Friday, October THEE 8th my husband and I went on our first date and began our journey of love, laughter and let's be honest here LOTS of miscommunication.
So, after knowing someone for 3 years, 2 1/2 of those years have been spent married, you'd assume that you would know each other pretty well.
Be able to finish each other's sentences.
Know, by the look on their face, how their day went.
How they like their undies folded.
How, one of you has a little bit of an OCD problem and has to buy everything at the grocery store in even numbers and that you don't argue about it. Ever.
You get the jist right? Ok.
My husband does not fall under this category. Each day feels like I'm trying to get to know him all over again and I'm trying to explain my life to him like on our very first Taco Time date. Most likely because he's working on the computer or doing his homework. So everything I say goes in one ear and out the other. Actually
So, who's to blame for making me expect a mind reading husband?
I blame romantic movies, at least in part.
Have you seen the movie Only You? It's about a girl who is convinced her soul mate is man with a certain name that she heard from a fortune teller. She flies to Italy to find him, and another guy falls in love with her, but sees that she is determined to play this soul-mate thing out. So he agrees to help her find the man. They track him down at a hotel, and she sets up a date, and the guy who loves her (her true soul-mate) buys her a gift for the date. It's a pair of shoes. They are the right size. They are the right color. They are the right style. They are exactly the perfect shoes for the outfit she is planning to wear. Cinderella herself could not have possessed a more ideal shoe.
What man in the world can do this?!?!?!
This why those movies are so popular, by the way-because we all want to believe there is someone out there who could discern our every need, sometimes fulfilling needs we didn't even know we had. And so we fall in to the trap of "If I have to ask, it doesn't count." or "If you really loved me, you would know what I wanted."
I also blame the way us females think. I think sometimes...(ok, most of the time) we get caught up in our emotions running our lives and we start to assume everyone this is way, running their lives with complicated emotion, I'm starting to realize though, men don't think this way. Possibly ever.
The other day I had a MEGA-breakdown. Something very silly and unquestionable NOT my husband's fault mad me upset. Part of what I struggle with, with my PPD, is that I get fuming mad at the flip of a switch, most often over very menial things. When we arrived home I informed my husband I was upset at him and felt like screaming. After a few hours of only a handful of words, I told him I needed to get out of the house and be alone for a bit and he told me to go take a drive. I somehow arrived at K-Mart, where there were only a few people wondering the aisles as aimlessly as I was. I bought some new jeans and a new hat, because I've decided to become a hat person.
Upon buying these things, (which by the way-didn't make me feel better) I got back in the car and headed home where dinner awaited me. We ate in silence and my husband just stared at me. When we were finished he asked me, "What's wrong? Why are you so mad and sad all the time?" Which began the waterfall of tears. I told him I didn't even know why I was this way and I was as confused as he was. I told him I felt terrified I would never overcome this roller coaster of emotion I'd been on and be myself again. I went and laid down in bed where he followed me and let me stain my pillow with mascara. I told him I couldn't explain it and asked him to say something, anything to help me feel better. He said, "I feel like everything is my fault."
Okay, now this was the wrong answer.
I try hard not to be a selfish person, but during this moment I felt entitled to be. I needed him to focus on me. I cried even harder. I went to grab my phone to call my mother who, without fail always has something wise to say that makes me feel better. When Will grabbed me and said, "Talk to me! I want to help! What do you want me to do?"
Finally my moment had arrived. I had an answer that would solve all our problems.
"I WANT YOU TO READ MY MIND! I'M STRUGGLING AND YOU DON'T SEEM TO BE LISTENING! ALL I WANT IS SOME SYMPATHY HERE!'
Then, miraculously, my husband showed up and get this...COMMUNICATED with me!
PRAISES!!
He said exactly what I needed to hear, and gave me some very easy, uncomplicated advice that made me give him kisses.
Think of this:
When I start stacking up empty milk cartons and cereal boxes until they perch unnaturally two or three feet about the brim of the kitchen garbage can, waiting for my husband to take it out to the trash. After knowing each other for a mere 3 years, I have learned that my husband would do just about anything for me. He runs hard and fast, like a train on a track, and the only problem is that if the track doesn't happen to go past the garbage can, he genuinely doesn't see the trash piling up. So, I say, "Honey, could you please take out the garbage?" and he says, "Sure." And he does it. MIRACLE!
I admit part of me, really wishes he would just the initiative and look for things like that. But alas, I don't have a mind reading husband.
Finding The Balance:
Let's pause for a moment and take a second to think about this little incident. Picture a scale if you will and put my silly tantrum on one side of it. Now, on the other side, put a husband who honors his priesthood, who loves and serves the Lord, who works everyday at a slightly demanding and time consuming job, and who goes to school full time so that I can be home taking care of our daughter, who loves me enough to let me have some alone time when I need it, and who values my role as a mother and honestly wants to help me through my PPD. Put all those things on the other side of the scale and you tell me, Do you think things are in place? Do you think, in fact, that this might be my soul-mate after all?
In most relationships there's a whole bunch of good along with a pretty hefty dose of not-so-good. I think when we choose to focus on the good, it becomes easier to see each other as I believe our Father in Heaven sees us. And that my friends, is a much happier way to live.
So, do I wish my husband could read my mind? Yeah, that would be great. Should I expect him to read my mind when he honestly doesn't have a clue what's going on? Nope, not ever. I confess, however, on my bad days it's really really hard to remember that.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Confession #1
Confession:
I, like most mothers, suffer with postpartum depression (PPD). I am on an anti-depressant.
And I am not ashamed to talk about it.
1 out of 679 women in the U.S. suffer with it, but those are only the ones who reported they did.
I've always wanted to be a mother. I wasn't that great in school, I didn't excel at sports or music. I didn't have any special talents. But I knew I'd be good at being a mom. I knew I'd excel. I knew I would love it. And I do. I have never experienced such accomplishment, such an unconditional love for one person, and such JOY!
So when I started feeling depressed and overly emotional. I was confused. Why was I feeling like this? Isn't this is what I've always wanted? I love my daughter..what's going on? I became infuriated over the littlest things and would take it out on my husband. Who is the least bit deserving of any of this negative, emotional, attitude I had going on.
I started having thoughts of not wanting the life I had. Not wanting to be a mother. Not wanting a marriage with my husband. Now, in these ruts I would get into I would believe every single one of these things. I became afraid. The only way I could sort the truth from those things that were false was to get down on my knees and pray for the truth. Once I started to feel myself returning my true self, the real Kara, those things I thought I truly felt, I knew without a doubt that I didn't have those desires. I was not feeling those things.
So, I decided to go back into my midwife and tell her what was going on. She said I was suffering with PPD. My first reaction was, " OH, nonono, it has to be something else, I've been really emotional and not feeling myself. I'm just being a girl." which she replied, "Yes, that's PPD." She wrote out a prescription for an anti-depressant.
I am now three weeks into taking the medication and little bits of myself seem to be slowly returning to how they used to be. I'm still having bad days, but my good days are starting to outweigh the bad.
Now let me tell you this MOTHERS: You are not crazy. You are not a bad mother. There is help available. You are not the only one struggling. Don't be afraid of getting help for something you have no control over.
God made us to be mothers and He sure isn't going to let us fail. Don't assume there is nothing you can do to help yourself. For starters, you have a friend here. :)
I, like most mothers, suffer with postpartum depression (PPD). I am on an anti-depressant.
And I am not ashamed to talk about it.
1 out of 679 women in the U.S. suffer with it, but those are only the ones who reported they did.
I've always wanted to be a mother. I wasn't that great in school, I didn't excel at sports or music. I didn't have any special talents. But I knew I'd be good at being a mom. I knew I'd excel. I knew I would love it. And I do. I have never experienced such accomplishment, such an unconditional love for one person, and such JOY!
So when I started feeling depressed and overly emotional. I was confused. Why was I feeling like this? Isn't this is what I've always wanted? I love my daughter..what's going on? I became infuriated over the littlest things and would take it out on my husband. Who is the least bit deserving of any of this negative, emotional, attitude I had going on.
I started having thoughts of not wanting the life I had. Not wanting to be a mother. Not wanting a marriage with my husband. Now, in these ruts I would get into I would believe every single one of these things. I became afraid. The only way I could sort the truth from those things that were false was to get down on my knees and pray for the truth. Once I started to feel myself returning my true self, the real Kara, those things I thought I truly felt, I knew without a doubt that I didn't have those desires. I was not feeling those things.
So, I decided to go back into my midwife and tell her what was going on. She said I was suffering with PPD. My first reaction was, " OH, nonono, it has to be something else, I've been really emotional and not feeling myself. I'm just being a girl." which she replied, "Yes, that's PPD." She wrote out a prescription for an anti-depressant.
I am now three weeks into taking the medication and little bits of myself seem to be slowly returning to how they used to be. I'm still having bad days, but my good days are starting to outweigh the bad.
Now let me tell you this MOTHERS: You are not crazy. You are not a bad mother. There is help available. You are not the only one struggling. Don't be afraid of getting help for something you have no control over.
God made us to be mothers and He sure isn't going to let us fail. Don't assume there is nothing you can do to help yourself. For starters, you have a friend here. :)
WELCOME!
Welcome friends! I've been thinking about creating this blog for awhile now, I've said it a million times that being able to write out my feelings here is so therapeutic for me. I am a wife to a very hardworking man who is almost done with school. I've always wanted to be a mother and that day finally came January 29, 2010 when my little Baby Girl P. came into this world and has brought with her the sweetest spirit and a joy that I never thought possible.
I am going to share on a daily basis my struggles and triumphs as a wife and mother and everything in between. It's time to CONFESS ladies and I'm not afraid to do it! Follow me, let's share, and have some fun!
I am going to share on a daily basis my struggles and triumphs as a wife and mother and everything in between. It's time to CONFESS ladies and I'm not afraid to do it! Follow me, let's share, and have some fun!
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