The Countdown Is On

There’s a two-part episode of Star Trek Voyager titled “Year of Hell” in which Captain Janeway and her crew suffer a series of calamities over the course of a year. Eventually, through the magic of temporal phenomenon, everything ends up honky-dory, and the Year of Hell never happens. Voyager’s crew continues on their journey unaware of the disasters that befell them or they avoided...I’ve never understood temporal mechanics.

There have been more times than I can count that I’ve wished for a temporal phenomenon to undo this year or fast forward it. My very own, very real, very intense Year of Hell. As science fiction isn’t all science fact yet, that leaves me just waiting for the end of 2014.

Many times, almost daily, I ask myself what right have I to complain. I know people who’ve been through far too much for me to ever complain about anything. How dare I mope when people are starving, when wars rampage across the world, when cities burn, and mothers lose their children! Who am I to lie in bed at night crying? My husband holds me but is helpless to comfort me because I am inconsolable. In those moments, I allow myself to fall because I tell myself that grief is not a contest and there is no measurable way to compare pain, that even though others have suffered far more than I could ever imagine, my anger, sadness, and hurt are just as real.

I count, I breathe, I pull myself together because I have no other choice.

Am I depressed? Yeah. Clearly. There’s no denying that. My one and only solace? I know that my depression is situational. That things are generally shit right now, but it won’t be like this forever. I know that as long as I keep putting my feet on the ground every morning, that someday it won’t feel like such a chore. There are days when my smile is genuine and my laughter is not forced. And those days are slowly starting to outnumber the others.

I’ve said it before that I should have done an anonymous blog, then maybe, I’d post more about my life. Maybe if I had a top secret super blog I’d vent, I’d rant, I’d utilize an outlet that I honestly should have been using: my words. My chaos has been my own this year. I’ve not wanted to share it or talk about it here or anywhere, so even an anonymous blog would have sat unattended this year. I’ve got 31 more days to go in what I expected to be a great year. I have used this year as an excuse for not writing, not crafting, not doing and that’s got to change. Whether I post to a public blog or just jot notes in a journal, writing has always helped me work through my issues and I need to get back to that.

In 31 more days I’ll have survived 2014.

In 31 more days I’ll file 2014 away as a lesson learned.

In 31 more days I’ll jump into 2015 looking to exceed rather than endure. 

 

Scott asked me the other day if I expected 2015 to magically be better. Of course not, I said. But it’s like a clean slate. New Years is a tangible mark, a concrete, albeit human, passage of time. Time allows distance and clarity, healing and hope. Time, right now, is the best friend I’ve got.

This year I fell. Come January 1st, I will start standing again.

Plumb Tuckered Out

April, much like November and NaNoWriMo, is tiring. Different reasons for being tiring, but tiring nonetheless. NaNo is a hectic and fast paced but it's a me against me thing. April brings a different level to the writing. It's me writing, but also making the rounds, reading, commenting, responding. More giving of my time to outside influences, maybe.

And that's a good thing. NaNo is all about removing myself from reality and focusing on my novels. Blogging A to Z is all about making connections. And really, who doesn't like connections. Introverts maybe, but then introverts probably wouldn't be participating in such a challenge. Though I could be wrong. Heck! for all I know I was the only extrovert participating this year. I'm tired but in a good way. I feel accomplished and dedicated. And that's saying a lot right now. So no worries, Pickleope, I'm still going to be blogging. I miss my "I Made It Mondays" and my "Friday Photos."

Two things before I go. First, I hit a blog milestone during the A to Z Challenge: 300 posts! Yay! But even more awesome? All my new peeps! I'd like to give a great big welcome to all the newcomers to my blog. You found me through A to Z and stuck around and that's a major ego boost! Glad to have you around for my journey!

Big Dream One: The RV Life

I’ve always been a big dreamer. I set my sights on goals that are almost unattainable like winning the lottery despite never actually playing the lotto. I dream of sailing around the world in my custom built 60 foot sailboat, The Hyperbole, despite the fact that I get seasick just looking at a boat. I dream of thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail despite my overwhelming fears of aliens, sasquatch, and alien sasquatch. I dream of opening a gaming shop with my husband even though we’d end up strangling each other after the first day or two. I dream of a bakery with Sara even though she isn’t nearby.

I dream Big Dreams.

Two of the most diametrically opposite Big Dreams have been at the forefront lately. One stems from my love of travel and sightseeing, the other from my growing desire to be self-sufficient. A third Big Dream is really the most realistic it's just a matter of pushing myself. 

Today I’m going to talk about Big Dream Number One.

Before I met Sara, home to me was a place. A single location where roots were set down and bonds formed in the community. Home was a tangible, unique space. Growing up, I moved around a lot. Maybe not more than a military family, but it seemed every few years we were up and going somewhere else. I hated it. I wanted a place that was ours and we’d never have to leave. Sara, however, taught me that home wasn’t a place and roots could be transplanted quite easily. Home is my family: Scott and the girls. If I’ve got them, then I’m good. It doesn’t matter where we live. I’m sure I would have figured this out eventually, but Sara, being awesome, helped speed the process up.

The longest I’ve ever stayed in one house was six years. It seems that maybe all that moving around in my youth stuck with me and I get itchy feet every three years or so. There’s a Tom Petty song I love, Time To Move On, and I am fairly certain he meant it to be my theme song because I always have this need to just go. 

Dream Number One would help to alleviate those feet. If I had any assets to liquidate, I would do so immediately, buy an RV (I really like this one and this one) and take to the road. I would love to travel the back roads with the girls and Scott exploring every nook and cranny this country has to offer. How cliché, right? But how very cool would it be to wake up in the morning and say, “Hey, let’s go check out Montana” and just go? How freeing is that? Today I feel like…New Mexico…Next week, how about Ohio?

If I RV’d my life I would certainly have to make some major changes. And maybe they’d be for the best. The appealing idea here is that not only would I get to travel the country, but I would have to, by the very nature of living in an RV, downsize my life. Go minimalist. I am the first to confess an attachment to my stuff: books, craft supplies, gaming supplies, bakeware, all my Christmas decorations! Gack! Just thinking about not putting my Santas out on display makes me squirm in my guts. But like wiping a blackboard clean, there is something very appealing about getting rid of everything. I’m not anywhere close to being a hoarder. I’ve seen true hoarding and trust me, it keeps me in check! And surely anything that I could not bring myself to part with would find a home in storage until I needed it again.

Maybe after a few years or so driving the road, I’d yearn to plant myself firmly in one spot.

Going to School

I miss school. More specifically, I miss going to school to learn, not to teach. I’ve been on both sides of the desk, and I have realized that I am a better student than I am a teacher.

When I graduated from college in ’04, I was ready to go, but I regretted not being able to complete my plans of duel major in English and Religion&Philosophy. How was I to know that there was such a thing as “lifetime student loan limit?” Really?? Why limit my ability to learn when I am obligated to pay back my loan? How much money could the government have made off of my student loan interest if they kept lending me money? I could have single-handedly saved us from the economic recession! I could have been a hero!

Over the past few months I’ve been toying with the idea of going to grad school. I always planned to continue with my education, but money was always an issue. Guess what? Money is still an issue. Scott says we can figure out something if I really want to go. I suppose if I budget even more and oh I don’t know, cut out food, I might be able to afford a class each summer. It is a nice dream that I’d like to see realized sooner rather than later, but I am willing to bide my time.

I longingly perused university websites tonight looking at requirements for grad students and overall, I could easily qualify for a number of schools around me. I would love to get my Masters. Even better, I’d love to get my Masters in English and complete my Bachelors in Religion&Philosophy.

My colleagues urge me to go to the University of Phoenix to get a Masters in education. I keep telling them that I don’t want to be in education my entire life. I’ve got plans beyond where I am.

I dream big. My plans are always complicated and intricate. I know there is a way for me to return to school. Now I just have to research. Maybe I’ll find a grant for broke English teachers who work at ghetto schools and have way too many bills but are really adorable, smart and deserving!