Tuesday, February 2, 2016
As I head into the last few class days of my Master's program I am struck by my impending future and what lies ahead of me, along with being overcome with emotion as I think of the journey that has brought me to this moment in time.
I began this process in the summer of 2010 as I finished the classes I could (because it was WAY cheaper) at community college and transferred to ASU in spring of 2011. In the fall of 2011 I began a job at PCH which would forever change my life (still can't believe I worked there). I busted my butt each semester going to school full time working full time (nights, which adds a whole new layer of hard work). I began the BSW in the Fall of 2012 where I did my internship at the Glendale Fire Dept Crisis Response team, which to this day do not know how I survived (worked full time nights Fri, Sat and Sun, had Mon off, school Tues and Thurs and internship Tues night to Wed night) and not afraid to admit I had a few meltdowns during that time period and some very scary dark days (thank you to those who saved me on those dark days). In my final semester of the BSW I was accepted into the advanced standing MSW program, landed an internship in the ED of PCH (not sure how I thought that was a good idea), and continued to work nights at PCH . In my personal life my mom was becoming more and more of a worry and I wasn't sure how much longer I could "deal" with her drinking. April came and the first of the cascade of terrible events started. Peter died April 25th, his memorial was May 8th and I graduated with my BSW May 9th. I started the MSW program at the end of May along with my internship at PCH and on June 18th found my mom dead. I slowly began to unravel causing me to fail my internship forcing me to take the year off (best thing I could have done for myself).
And in between all this I moved 3 times and all the craziness that I can't remember or mention.
July of 2014 I quit PCH (one of the best days of my life). In the fall of 2014 I moved, started work part time and began the MSW program again. A lot less stressful and I have been able to grow tremendously since that time.
Fast forward to 2016. I never would have thought I would survive Mckenna's death and yet here I am about to graduate with a Master's degree (holy shit). I can't help but feel nostalgic as I think back. SO much has happened since that summer of 2010 and I'm still alive and a different human being ready to take on the world and do what I need to do to continue to grow, learn and become the Ashley I have been fighting SO hard to become. It has been one hell of a journey and I can't imagine what the months to come are going to bring but I am working very hard to make things happen and see what unfolds.
Big changes are in my very near future.....Stay tuned!
Saturday, December 19, 2015
I am often thinking about what I would say to Mckenna if she showed up one day. I wonder how I would react. I am sure I would stand there in disbelief that I was staring at the face I have missed all these years. I want to write her letters but I so often push them aside because I seem to not have the words. The other night I decided to finally write her a letter because her birthday is approaching. It seemed like a fitting time to actually sit down and write to her. I will keep most of my letter private but wanted to share a couple parts that seem to deeply affected me.
This time of year is always hard but this year seems to be kicking my ass. I can never predict how the holidays or her birthday are going to affect me. I now am trying to just go with what I am feeling and not try so hard to feel "happy" "jolly" "cheerful" when that is not how I feel deep down in my bones. If I am sad I am sad, if I don't want to participate I'm not going to participate. It's not easy to watch all around me the things I am missing. Don't get me wrong I am so grateful for what I do have and I don't take that for granted, but I can't help but miss what I don't have.
When Mckenna's birthday approaches I am often met with her death day. This bothers me because I feel her birthday should overshadow her death day. Those who really know me well know that I judge my grief and I am super hard on myself.
I read Mckenna's letter to a trusted friend yesterday. Before I even read it out loud I told her that it was a stupid letter and that I can never seem to write her a letter that is beautiful (judgement). I read the letter out loud, tears fell, my heart ached, I was deeply saddened by reading my words to my beautiful daughter.
I wanted to protect you, give you love, be the mom to you that I so desperately wanted. I wasn't going to hurt you the ways my mother did to me. I wouldn't have been perfect but I wouldn't have been an alcoholic. I never hurt you like my mom did me, I hurt you by being distracted, in my own head, careless.....I deserve to hurt.
The guilt is never too far from my mind. It is so easy to get caught up in our own troubles and pain that we lose sight of what we are supposed to be doing. That day I was supposed to be protecting my daughter, keeping her safe and instead I was distracted by my having to move, the loss of my marriage, angry at him that I did the opposite of protecting my daughter, I killed her (accidentally).
I'm sorry I failed you that day. There are not enough I'm sorrys in the world to make up for what I did. All I can do now is try and be a decent human being by helping others. All I can do now is try and be the mom you still deserve (though I am not sure I am doing all I can to be that mom) My world feels so incomplete without you here with me. I'm not sure it will ever feel complete.
One thing was different as I read it out loud and had it read to me out loud was the compassion I felt for myself. I looked at it as if it was not my story but someone else's story. My heart ached for this mother who made a terrible mistake that cost her her daughters life. When Mckenna was alive I felt like as long as I had her life would be fine. I couldn't imagine my life without her and here I sit in my life without her. I have survived but I am not the same.
I gain more and more compassion for the mom 7 years ago who was so in love with her daughter and never would have intentionally hurt her. The mom who was distracted, in her head and careless because life was falling apart around her and she didn't know how she was going to survive.
I may be met with her death day during her birthday but I am going to try and just be with it and notice the judging voice and meet that judging voice with compassion because it's ok to remember both days because both days changed my life forever.
Wednesday, December 9, 2015
I have been noticing it more and more and have had a couple conversations about social media and the persona people put out there lately. Social media is an interesting thing. Many times we post about all the good, the perfect picture, the perfect moment in time and yet the behind the scenes of that perfect moment or perfect picture are never disclosed. For example, how many shots it took to get the perfect picture, about the fight that happened just before the "perfect moment". The smiles are deceiving and don't always share the whole story (Trust me I can turn on a smile in a picture and no one would know the pain I am feeling under the smile.) Why is it that when we post about the realness of our lives or how we are really doing it is seen as weakness or annoying? How people place judgment on a post that is too personal as if they have never experienced a rough day? Who cares if someone shares their real life, I would rather see authenticity.
I too am guilty of getting the perfect picture and posting it, or sharing what is good, but I also am sad a lot. I don't always post about it because I just need to be in my space with it. If I do want to post about it I don't want to feel stupid since I know I am being judged for feeling the way I do.
So many don't want to hear about the reality of life but lets face it our lives are not perfect, they aren't always rainbows and butterflies. Why can't we post the joys AND the sadness and EVERYTHING in between when that is what life is all about.
Yes we don't need to post every personal detail about our daily lives and what is going wrong or what is going right, but when we do we shouldn't be made to feel less than for posting it.
There is a balance to everything in life. Post what you want and don't judge what others post.
Give love and support because most people just want to be heard, acknowledged and validated.
That's my two cents anyway...
P.S. This is not based on anyone in particular but just something that has been on my mind with social media.
Wednesday, November 18, 2015
"I'm so proud of you honey" my mom would say. Thank you I would say back to her, be shy about my accomplishment and move on. I never knew how much I would miss those words coming from her. But I do....a lot.
For whatever reason I am stuck on this word proud. You know that feeling you get when you are proud of someone? The immense joy you feel, the smile on their face shining through as they see how proud you are of them? Or the feeling you get when someone is proud of you. How it makes you feel proud of yourself. How it makes you feel loved. I love/d that feeling and yet I am often hit with grief when I see it around me. I think how I will never hear my mom tell me how proud she is of me or how I will never get the chance to show Mckenna my pride in her. I love/hate seeing parents proud of their children. It's a beautiful thing and yet a hit to the gut.
My mom was so full of pride in both of her children and was never afraid to tell us. When I graduated with my BSW she couldn't get to me fast enough to be the first to hug me. The look on her face that I didn't "see" till after she died was full of pride. I never doubted it I always knew how proud she was of me.
I know others are proud of me and it really means the world, but there is something about your parent being proud of you that truly makes you see your accomplishments. It makes you feel proud of yourself and know you can do anything. I took for granted what it felt like to hear my mom say those words to me. To put her hands on my face and tell me how proud and how beautiful I am.
I yearn to have these moments again with my mom, I yearn to to watch my daughter grow, learn and do things that make me proud. It is two different sides with me being the daughter missing those words from my mother and me being the mother missing sharing those words with my daughter.
I miss my mom, I miss Mckenna. It's a tough time of year and I am feeling it deeply.....
Friday, August 28, 2015
How does one discover who they are? How do you find yourself when all your identities have been stripped from you? I have found myself struggling with who I am, knowing the core of my soul. Who am I? This is what I know about me....
I am a care taker. Loving and caring more for those I love deeply than I care and love myself. I would literally die for those I love and be ok with that as long as they are safe and alive. I would suffer just so someone else doesn’t have to suffer. I would go with out to give to another. My heart hurts for animals, children, elderly, those who are hurting. I want to help, I want to fix, I want to be there. All of these things sounds like I am a beautiful soul with so much to give this world and yet I feel like I have no purpose in this world, that I am not good enough, smart enough to be what I need to be for others.
I am a people pleaser. I am so afraid of hurting others that I would do anything to not hurt them so I often don’t say anything at all. I get hurt easily. I have too high expectations so I am disappointed a lot. I say I’m sorry for anything and everything I do, I cry when I receive constructive criticism for something I have written or said to someone, I feel stupid when I don’t write well which makes me cry.
I am sensitive.
And extremely observant
I was once a daughter. I lost my dad the day before my 14th birthday. I never got to know him like my siblings did. I have few memories but the ones I do have are some of my most fond memories. He loved me deeply and I knew how much he loved me. I had regrets after his death. I didn’t see him enough and when I did I couldn’t be around him because it was too painful. The man I knew was wasting away right before my eyes. So I sat in the other room and played video games. I was a young girl who didn’t know how to be with her dying father. Though those regrets do not linger anymore. I was 14 struggling to figure out how to deal with my dad’s death while dealing with my mom’s drinking. I lost my mom when I was 29. Her death shook me to the core. Still does. The night I found her I didn’t care about the drinking because I just wanted my mom back. Though in reality that life was challenging. Dealing with an alcoholic is almost impossible. Since her death all I can think about are all the ways I didn’t help her. How I could have done more. I have to be reminded of the ways I did that I did all I could do with what I had. I feel like I failed her on so many levels. I was the child but I was more of a mom to my mom. A role I shouldn’t have had to take on. I loved her fiercely, I loved her with all of my being and in the end that wasn’t enough, she still died. I couldn’t save her. I yearn for her. I ache for her. I miss the mom I knew behind the alcohol. Yes your parents are supposed to die before you, but I just wish it didn’t have to happen when I was 14 and 29.
I was once a wife. I thought I was a good wife. I would have gone to the ends of the earth for my ex husband only to be treated like I didn’t matter. He never stood up for me. He often made me feel like I wasn’t as loved as I loved him. I felt like I was the last thing on his priority list. Yes this was not my fault but it was what I felt deep down I deserved back then. I didn’t deserve to be treated with respect so I just took what he did give and loved him with all of my heart and soul. Being a wife was so important to me, I took my vows seriously. I gave my all and in the end I lost everything. My love could not save it.
I was once a mom. I LOVED being a mom. Waking up to the beautiful sounds of Mckenna made life all worth it. It didn’t matter what I was going through as long as I had her I knew I was going to be ok. We were buddies. I loved watching her explore her world. Making new sounds, learning new things every day, taking the world in (she was observant like me). I loved her beyond this world. She trusted me completely, did not know fear and knew I would be there. Knowing how much she trusted me breaks my heart because all she wanted to do was be next to me and I drop a television on her. Yes unintentionally, but it happened because my hands moved the TV and I wasn’t paying attention. My love ultimately killed Mckenna.
I was once a different person though I don’t know who that person was. How do I try to be the person I think I am if I don’t know who that person is? I don’t have anyone to take care of anymore. I have not been a daughter of a father for 17 years, a daughter of a mother for 2 years, a wife for 7 years and a mother for 7 years. I know these roles should not define me as who I am. I just want to be content with the person I am and know me to my core. As my friend said…the struggle is real.
I want I was once to be I am. I am fearless, I am lovable, I am funny, I am worthy, I am beautiful, I am smart, I am, I am, I am....All the things I feel I am not need to be I am.
It has been a struggle for a few weeks to try and figure out who I am. I love deeply, I hurt deeply and I wish I knew where life was taking me because I feel a bit lost in the world. I guess we all feel a little lost sometimes.
I am blessed with some beautiful friends who walk with me along the way. I may be sharing some of my pain publicly but I share my deepest, darkest thoughts and feelings with a select few. They help remind me of the person they see, what I did for my mother, how my ex husband is an asshole, and that I really was a good mom. I need to hear those things from time to time. They sit with me in the space and understand how it feels. They aren't afraid of my pain and thoughts, they listen, they love and they honor my journey. I love you and thank you for loving me.
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
You know, we all oppose animal cruelty. But sometimes we forget that animals on farms suffer and feel pain like all other animals. They, too, deserve to be protected from harm and cruelty.
-- Charlotte Ross
-- Charlotte Ross
When I was a little girl I always felt pain when I saw an animal hurting or even felt bad if I accidentally stepped on an ant hill. I would feel terrible. I didn't use my voice back then to stand up for the animals. For example my Nana had a pig. She warned me what was going to happen to the pig and to not get too attached. Well I ended up naming her Daisy and gave her bathes, loved on her and took care of her. I actually don't remember the moment she was taken to be slaughtered but my family did not help. We would be eating and they would say you know we are eating Daisy then proceed to say things like, "Ashley why did you let them kill me." I'm surprised I didn't become a vegetarian right then and there. I didn't even know what that was and I didn't know how to stand up to my family who made fun of me for loving a pig, a hunting family, a meat eating family.
I recently got into a FB fight with a family member about this very thing. It made me realize just how passionate I am now for animals. I am starting to wonder how people can watch those videos and not feel compassion and love for them. Is it out of sight out of mind? Would you be able to eat a horse, a dog or a cat as easily as you can a cow, pig or chicken? Do you not feel pain as you see the fear in their eyes? They know know pain, they feel deeply just like we do. They cry when their babies are taken from them, they cry when they are hurt. Factory farming is disgusting and no animal should have to live in those conditions and treated the way they are.
I will never go back to eating meat because I love them too much and I care about how they are treated and in my opinion so should everyone else! A friend recently became a vegetarian and it makes my heart happy. "I looked at my burrito meat chopped up and for the first time saw what I was eating. Dying, crying, slaughtered soul. Ugh." When your heart is broken open to see these precious animals as more than "meat" it changes you, it changes your soul. My family doesn't understand, some of my friends don't understand but I will no longer silence my voice.
Open your eyes people....
Until we extend our circle of compassion to all living things, humanity will not find peace.
-- Albert Schweitzer
Monday, August 3, 2015
Mckenna's "school" picture (possibly, who knows, I don't know, maybe)
The first day of school pictures have started to fill my FB feed. I have been mostly avoiding FB and I was doing it naturally without even thinking about it. I know what I will see and I know how it will make me feel so I avoid looking when I can. I can feel her absence as she should be starting 2nd grade this year. No school shopping, no clothes shopping, no getting school supplies, no excitement to start a new year with her friends, I will never do these things with Mckenna.
I don't even know what it would be like to have a 7 year old let alone a child going to school. How is it that she would be starting second grade? How in the world is it possible that I would have a 7 1/2 year old little girl?? Seriously blows my mind. I am sure I would feel this way if she were here, but it's different when you've never got to experience each milestone.
When Mckenna was going to start kindergarten it was at the tail end of the summer my brother died, my mom died, I failed my internship, friendships changed, it was just a shitty summer. It didn't hit me as hard since I was going through hell. I must have put it out of my thoughts because I could not add anymore pain to my already shattered heart. Last year, 1st grade, I was getting ready to start a new chapter, move, start grad school that it didn't seem to bother me as much and frankly I have a hard time remembering that time in my life. Must have still been in a fog. Second grade seems to be hitting my heart. I ache to be 7 year old, second grader Mckenna's mom. I ached to be her 1 year old mom, 2,3,4,5,6 year old Mckenna's mom (wow so many years I missed already...sigh) and I am sure that will never change.
Several of my beautiful bereaved mama friends who are like me, no living children, have posted about this. Some may not even think about this as it is their "normal" for first days of school. Our "normal" is far from "normal". Please cherish this time with your children. Back to school is stressful I know and it's hard to see past the normal everyday life. Just give them an extra hug and kiss, always say you love them and listen to their days as we would give anything to have these moments with our children. Stress and all.
Not all children get to start school this year and their parents miss them.... It may seem silly to some, but it is our reality and some years it's just painful.