Birthday Blues

The funny thing about finding out you have stage 4 metastatic cancer is the first thought that comes into your head is usually something completely ridiculous but also revealing of what matters most to you.  In December 2015, when I was re-diagnosed, I thought I only had a few months to live...maybe just a year.  Cancer had metastasized to my bones.  I could barely walk.  My first thought... I've never taken my kids to Disneyland.  I just want to take them to Disneyland before I die.

Today we celebrated my 37th birthday with my family (two days early).  Maybe it's just the birthday blues but I've been consumed with morbid thoughts.  When you're thinking of your life in terms of birthdays, it's hard not to wonder how many are left.  Right now I'm living.  I'm thriving.  These cancer killing pills I take every day are doing their job...without them, I die.

The domino effect... Morbid thoughts lead to feelings of loneliness.  My first bout with cancer... I was married and pregnant.  Through my entire year of treatment my ex-husband only attended one chemo appointment with me...yet, through the first half I was not alone.  I had my little man, growing in my womb, battling cancer with me.  I had my sister attending all my appointments with me, taking time off of work to sit with me through chemo.  The diagnosis of cancer was just one of the many nails in the coffin for my marriage.  Now I'm single and alone.   Most of the time I'm good with that because men are more trouble than they're worth (unless you happen to meet that man who is worth the trouble).  But I have my moments...those moments where I just desire to be with someone who can hold me when I'm down...someone who will just say...I'm with you in this.

The escape...avoidance...filling my time....distractions...friends...music...dancing...acting stupid...just living.  Fifty percent of the time, I have my kids.  The other fifty percent of the time is spent escaping my reality.

My attempt at resolving my loneliness...  A couple weeks ago my friend talked me into doing a dating app again.  I downloaded it on a Monday and deleted it by Friday.  On Wednesday I had my first date.  I refer to him as "the Egyptian".  He's a handsome realtor who lives in Santa Barbara.  We met for a beer.  It went well but by the end of the date he was asking me if I was interested in being "exclusive".  Red flag.  The date only lasted two hours because I intentionally planned something with my friends afterwards so I would have an out.  Next guy...the "wine guy"... He asked to meet at a restaurant for a glass of wine.  I had my kids that day and went to the pool then dropped them off with their dad and had to meet him immediately after.  I was wearing yoga pants, a tank top, and converse.  I showed up at the restaurant and he was wearing a suit.  It made me giggle.  I find awkward moments mostly comical but the awkward moments with this guy just made me feel awkward.  He didn't seem to mind my attire and he stared at me in this very uncomfortable way.  I found myself talking about all my worst qualities and life experiences.  I excused myself to the restroom and when I came back I didn't sit down, I simply asked, "Are you ready?"  He walked me to my car and I drove away, not looking back.  The third guy... "The wrestler".  He's a professional wrestler.  He was so sweet and such a gentleman (and very muscular).  We went out to play pool.  I'm not a good pool player at all.  Anyone with any kind of hand eye coordination and an understanding of pool should be able to beat me easily.  The first two games were close.  I won both.  The third game, I scratched on the 8 ball, so he won.  The fourth game I won, leaving 6 of his balls still on the table.  We started talking about other games we're good at.  I told him I'm terrible at connect four.  We ended up playing connect four on an app on my phone.  I won the first game then started to feel bad and decided to let him win.  We now needed to go best three out of five.  There were opportunities for him to win and he didn't even see them.  It was like playing against myself to not win and make sure I left opportunities for him to win without being too obvious.  The date was over.  I had the dating app on my phone for four days and then I deleted it...never again...

There was some good that came out of my four day long dating app experience.  It confirmed the fact that I am attracted to a man's mind and personality more so than their looks.  But it also did harm.  It caused me to look at myself and my standards (which is actually more beneficial than harmful).  I am so cautious with allowing myself to feel...or maybe just admitting to myself that I do...a friend who lives too far away...a guy who is close by but emotionally unavailable... Maybe I just have a thing for guys who aren't available.  It's safe to feel something for someone when you know it can't go anywhere...  Yet, I'm alone and sometimes I just don't want to be alone.

My birthday is on Wednesday.  I will drop my kids with their dad then go sit on the beach and have my alone time.  I will continue to be alone because I won't settle ever again.

Conquering Mountains

Today I woke up in the middle of a bad dream that was so vivid and haunting.  I couldn't get it out of my head. It left me feeling completely unsettled.  

I drove over to my Monday morning workout and the introvert in me couldn't get out of the car.  The idea of being around people was just something I couldn't even entertain.  I drove away.  I needed to be alone. So, I drove down the coast to a hiking trail.  I put my ear buds in, turned on my music, and began my climb up the mountain.  

It's not a very long hike but it's grueling because the first half mile is just a straight up climb to 1200 ft elevation.  There's something about this kind of physical exertion that gets my mind going, finding an analogy to life.  I observed my own efforts pushing up the mountain.  I watched the other hikers.  

I started climbing this mountain with no other hikers in sight.  I pushed myself hard, immediately feeling the burn. Pushing myself until I was out of breath, passing other hikers.  Knowing what I wanted was to just get further than I did the last time I did this hike.  

I passed a group of hikers that were taking their time.  They were taking it slow.  As I worked my way up that mountain I had to stop to catch my breath a couple times.  I looked back and could see that group I had passed.  I watched them struggle.  I watched them second guessing themselves and their ability to make it to the top, despite the fact that all of them appeared to be in better physical shape than I am. As I made it to the top of the mountain, I turned around and looked down the trail. That group of hikers had given up.  They were finding their way back down the trail.  They quit.  They took their time, overthinking it, wondering if it was worth it.  They couldn't just commit and persevere through the discomfort. 

My legs were burning.  I was out of breath.  A few times I had to take a quick break to look ahead, refocus, and recommit to getting there but I was at the top of the mountain.  I pushed myself hard, sometimes jogging up the hardest parts because I knew I needed to just push through.  If I slowed down I might give up too.  Standing at the top of the mountain, I realized my beginning goal had been to just make it past the place I had given up last time.  I pushed hard and didn't even notice I had passed that place by.  I have grown.  I am stronger.  My focus was no longer on where I've been.  I was focused on where I'm going.  

The top of the mountain...this is where the trail became flat.    This is where the breathtaking view made that struggle up the mountain feel worth it. I was able to relax and just enjoy the rest of the hike. The hard work was done. I persevered and surpassed my goal.  

As I stood there taking in the beauty, I began to think about how sharing that with someone could have enhanced the experience.  I didn't need anyone there to encourage me.  I didn't need anyone there to make it enjoyable.  Experiencing life with someone is not something I need. It's something I want. But what if that person you want to share the experience with isn't capable of pushing hard up the mountain? What if they need to take it slow?  What if they can't commit to making it to the top?

I love the view at the top of the mountain but does the view really matter that much?  The journey up the mountain is really what it was all about.   

The Roller Coaster

Life has often left me feeling defeated.  Then I remember that I am in control of my life.  I might not be able to control the circumstances of my life but I can control how I handle those circumstances.  

Yesterday was one of those days. I went in for my one week post-op check up after having my ovaries removed.  Some random doctor was filling in for my doctor.  He walked in, sat down, and said, "They found cancer in your ovaries. I'm very sorry".  I responded, "Such is my life".  

Shock set in.  I felt nothing. Then my mind started spinning.  What does this mean?  The fact that my cancer had only metastasized to my bones was what gave me hope for still having a long life. Am I going to die before my children grow up?  I am going to die. What now?  How will they treat this?  Will I have to lose my hair again?  How long do I have?  

I called and left a message for my oncologist.  "Please call me back about the pathology results."  

I went home, climbed into bed, and fought back tears. Trying to be okay for the sake of my children who were sitting on my bedroom floor watching a movie. 

A couple hours passed by and I finally got a call back from my oncologist.  This changes nothing.  What they actually found were just microscopic metastatic breast cancer cells in one ovary. The ovaries looked normal and there were no masses or tumors. Apparently this is very common.  My treatment and prognosis remain the same. He still expects me to live for a very long time.  

I cried from relief. Then I was both physically and emotionally exhausted. The emotional roller coaster, even though only a couple hours long, is traumatic. It left me feeling fragile. It left me feeling alone.  

I woke up this morning feeling heavy hearted...feeling down.  I went to workout with my sisters. I walked in and my sister asked if I was feeling relieved.  My eyes began to fill with tears. I am emotional. My facade has been broken.  The fear left me emotional and vulnerable.  At any moment I might break down.  At any moment the tears might begin to flow.  

Working out helped. Today was a boxing day. I was hitting that bag hard and it felt good.  This shit can't knock me down and keep me down.  

Tonight, after I drop my kids off at their dad's, I will go down to my beach. I will sit and watch the waves and drink a beer.  I will sit there alone and let myself process the roller coaster of emotions.  I will be good.  

Intuition

Four years ago I found out I was pregnant. My fourth child. I knew before I had even missed a period. I was excited. I was the healthiest I had ever been in my life.  I was running and doing yoga four to five times a week.  I felt amazing. I decided to have a home birth.  Two of my three previous births were done completely natural.  This one would be easy.  I found a midwife who started coming to my home to do my check ups. On her second visit she asked me how I was doing. I told her I was having anxiety.  I felt like something bad was going to happen. She asked about it.  I told her I knew it sounded crazy but I was worried I was going to have cancer during my pregnancy. Two weeks later I found the lump in my breast. 

Intuition is a powerful thing when we listen. More often than not, it is too hard to differentiate between fear and intuition.  As I have gone through the trials the last four years have presented me with, I have learned so much about myself and fear.  I have had to learn how to accept whatever life throws at me. (Just stating for the record that I have yet to learn how to not fear being vulnerable.  That's a whole different issue.)

Three months ago, as I was waiting for the results of the PET scan that would tell me for sure if cancer was yet again trying to kill me, I went in to my doctor's office. They took my blood pressure.  210/102.  I knew the news was bad.  The anxiety was so intense that I could barely breath. Two weeks ago, I had another PET scan. I went in to get the results. They took my blood pressure.  111/59. The results were good.  The treatment is working. My body is reacting just as it should. I am winning and I can feel it. 

The Dating Game - Take Two

I've been trying to play it cool and failing miserably.  The deal breaker guy broke my heart. I've tried to act like it wasn't a big deal but the truth is that for the first time I let myself be completely vulnerable and it felt so good.  He initiated it all. He made me feel safe. He told me he was taking it seriously.  He called me his girlfriend. He told my friends he wanted to make me his life partner.  He made me feel. 

Truth be told, I feel pathetic for caring so much after such a short period of time. We weren't together long enough for me to feel this strongly.  It goes against all logic but how can I explain my heart?  I can't. 

After his sweet confessions of how intense he felt for me, I expressed concern about how quickly things were moving. I questioned him.  This can be a fatal error.   I assume this is where I went wrong. The next day he needed space.  That was the end.  We never had a real conversation after that. We spoke briefly twice when I ran into him while out with friends.  The first time I saw him, he said the reason he couldn't do it is because of my crazy ex (which is kinda funny because he doesn't even have a clue how much conflict there actually is there).  The second time I told him I hoped we could still be friends and maybe we could grab a coffee sometime.  I texted him a couple days later and asked if he wanted to grab that coffee.  He blew me off.  

I met a new guy.  He's telling me he wants to be my boyfriend. He's saying all the right things. He looks good on paper. He's sweet and attentive. I keep telling him to stop using the word boyfriend.  It's too much too fast. It makes me want to run. 

This whole dating thing is too...confusing.  This perfect on paper guy...who's to say he won't do the same thing?   He likes me but how long will that actually last?  I started thinking about the deal breaker guy. I started to get pissed....like really really pissed off. He said all these things to me and let me feel safe. Then he was gone. Was it even real?  If my friends hadn't seen, I wouldn't believe my own take on it. Logic wins anyhow. He couldn't have felt the way he said he did and just turn it off like that. He couldn't feel the way he said he did and just want nothing to do with me anymore. I've been played?  Does it even matter?  Not really...except for the fact that now I don't trust quite as easily.  Now I'm afraid to let myself feel.  Now I don't want to see his face ever again. I am angry.  

The Dating Game

Deadpool.  A movie based on a comic. Full of action. Bloody at points that made me cringe. The movie ended and I giggled. A love story. A bloody and messed up love story. 

Anyone who follows my blog knows about the guy I was dating...the deal breaker guy.  He's the guy that just made sense. It felt right.  The connection was instant. The connection was real.  The first time he hugged me, I turned toward him to kiss him because it just felt right.  Then I caught myself and stopped.  It came so naturally. But then he decided that my baggage is too much.  And it's over despite the fact that I don't want it to be over. 

I've been on dates with four guys since then.  The first guy... We went on a date and I just felt a heaviness the entire time. I felt sad. I felt disappointed. He was nice. He was handsome. I felt nothing. 

The second guy... Thirty minutes into the date I figured out that he's a white supremacist. It lasted long enough for me to say goodbye. 

The third guy... A vegan.  I don't mean to be judgmental but men eat meat. He is also a germaphobe.  He tried to act like he isn't but I read people. I know. I want a man. 

The fourth guy...  We went to see deadpool together yesterday.  He lives an hour and a half away...

Experiencing a real and legit connection doesn't happen often.  When it fails, it's devastating. It makes it hard to settle. It's hard to let go. 

The thing is...I've realized...I have a story. My life is a story. It's messy story.  But anyone who chooses to be part of this story is lucky...it's a good story. A bloody and messed up love story.  I'm no longer worried about if my story is too much.  My story is epic. My story is worthy. 

I Will Dance

Anyone who knows me well knows that I love to dance.  I have no shame.  I will make a complete fool of myself dancing and laughing.  I feel the music and I must dance.  I dance to the point where I'm dripping with sweat and my cheeks are flushed.  I dance so hard that I am sore the next day.  

For the past three months I haven't been able to dance.  The pain has been the most intense pain I've experienced.  I walk down the street and try to walk without a limp.  I act like the pain isn't there.  I couldn't dance.  Physically, I've just been going through the motions, trying to just be normal.  But I've been missing the bounce in my step.  I went out with friends and had to stand back and watch them dance.  I watched them let the music take over.  I watched them living in the moment. I was an observer.  For so long I also lived my life like this...watching others really live...standing in the background in pain...not allowing myself to feel.  I was married for 14 years and I said so many times...I don't know what happened to me but this is not who I am.  I used to be fun.  I used to love to laugh.  I used to love to dance.  Over the past two years, I have found myself again.  I found my love of laughter.  I've let go of everything that got in the way of letting myself feel the music.  Now this is how I choose to live my life.  I'm not going to let anything get in the way of allowing me to feel.  I am going to take chances.  I am going to live life without regret.  I am going to feel the pain. I am going to feel the joy.  I am going to allow myself to feel deeply.  I've made the choice to feel and now everything is a new experience.  Whether it's laying on the beach feeling the sun on my skin and allowing the peacefulness to flow through me, or driving down the freeway with all my windows down, feeling the wind on my face while my music is turned up as loud as it will go, or putting myself out there in a relationship and sharing my heart and not holding back.  I feel.  Allowing myself to feel is empowering but also sometimes scary.  

The other day, for the first time in months, I experienced no pain in my hip.  The cancer killing pills are doing their job.  I can dance.  Since then, I've found myself dancing when I didn't even realize I was doing it.  Dancing is good for my soul and my desire to dance tells me all is well with my soul.  

Kick Me

Ever felt like you're walking around with one of those signs on your back that says, "Kick me"?  

Fourteen years of marriage...  I have been able to see the good that has come from that fourteen years of marriage.  I see the beautiful children I have been blessed with.  I can see the personal growth that came about as a result of my failed marriage.  There's another side though.  The negative consequences...the wounds that run deep...the fact that this man still has the ability to hurt me through my children. 

Today I went to court because my ex-husband is trying to get full custody of my kids. Yes, he believes I am a neglectful mother. The examples he used are things like...my daughter lost several bathing suits at my home, my youngest had a couple typical childish injuries, I ran late getting my oldest to one of his cross country track meets.  These, he believes, are grounds to take me to court to get full custody. Today we went to court. I represented myself.  I didn't feel the need to use an attorney for such petty accusations. We met with the mediator.  She asked why he felt the need to take me to court to change the current agreement. He said, "she has been diagnosed with a terminal illness. I'm concerned for the children in her care."  I listened to his claims and it broke my heart.   This man who I was married to for fourteen years wants to take my kids from me because I have cancer?!?!  What sense does that make?  It just doesn't.  And it's not true. It's just the most recent piece of ammunition he has to use against me. The truth is that he filed for full custody in October...before I knew anything about the metastatic breast cancer invading my body.  After the mediator stated she didn't see any reasons to take any custody away from either of us, his attorney requested a trial. He wants to try to prove that I am not a good mom. The trial date was set. 

I walked out of the court house feeling so alone, feeling vulnerable, feeling betrayed. I am no longer married to this man but I deserve to be respected and valued as the mother of his children.  I am irreplaceable. He doesn't see it. 

I walked to my car and the tears began to flow. I am alone.  I don't do vulnerable. I don't talk about how I feel.  I don't let people see my tears. I am alone and I have never craved human touch so deeply. I just laughed at myself as I realized that what I was desiring was to be comforted. That's such a foreign concept to me...a person who feels safe enough to be vulnerable with...a person who I feel safe enough with to allow them to comfort me...

I rarely feel sorry for myself.  Right now I can't help it. When is enough enough?  Feeling defeated...

Deal Breaker

“We're never so vulnerable than when we trust someone - but paradoxically, if we cannot trust, neither can we find love or joy.”

I don't do well with vulnerability.  I'm afraid to let myself feel...but there are times when I just don't have a choice.  It's not often that you just walk into a room and feel drawn to someone.  It's even more rare when that person appears to be equally drawn to you. 

When it comes to guys and dating...I'm a complete mess.  I read too far into things because I'm afraid.  I struggle with trust.  I'm struggling to find my way with my new reality.  I am living with stage 4 metastatic breast cancer...a death sentence.  I meet a guy.  Do I tell him right away?  Do I wait for him to get to know me better and then tell him? 

Well, I met a guy.  We were joking around about deal breakers in a relationship.  I asked how he feels about coffee.  He likes it.  I said, "It's a good thing because that was a deal breaker question."  We joked around some more and then I said, "I actually have a real deal breaker."  Then I regretted bringing it up.  I wanted to take it back.  I didn't want to tell him.  I wanted to continue pretending that it isn't real but I had taken that choice away from myself.  At that point I had to tell him.  And how could I not?  It would be living a lie to withhold that information from him.  So, I told him..."I have stage 4 cancer that will eventually kill me...but don't worry...it could take 30 or 40 years for it to do it's job..."  (I might be slightly exaggerating with the words I used)  As he sat there processing what I said, I just watched his face.  A little time passed with just silence, then he said, "So not a deal breaker".  I wanted to cry.  A rush of emotion...relief...  Then a rush of emotion...fear...  Can I believe him?  Could he be honest with me....I'm sorry you have cancer but that's just more than I'm willing to take on...? 

So, here I sit...feeling vulnerable...feeling slightly sorry for myself.  As I said, I don't do well with vulnerability.  I want to protect myself.  I want to pull away.  I want to not care.  I don't want to be afraid. 

Breakable Girl

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. 

Romans 15:13

Cancer is back in my life. This time invading my bones. By chance...by some innate feeling I had...I guessed that my cancer was back. For the past month I have been getting scans and bone biopsies...waiting...  Waiting is always the worst part. There's no way to move forward.  There's no way to make a plan. There are too many what-ifs. Yesterday I finally got all the answers.  My breast cancer metastasized to my bones. Mainly in my hip and my rib.  I've known for certain that it is definitely cancer for a week.  I was just waiting to find out if the cancer markers had changed.  Most people don't understand how breast cancer works so the importance of this is lost on most. Cancer markers can make the difference between living with stage 4 metastasized cancer for a few months or living for many many years. I went in to my appointment to find out this information.  I met with my doctor and got the information and then he sent me to the infusion room to start treatment immediately.  I sat there in the chair with the nurse standing next to me preparing my injections. I started giggling. The nurse looked at me as if I'm crazy. It made me laugh even harder.  I tried to explain myself to her but I don't think anyone can understand the mix of emotions I was experiencing. The thoughts going through my head...I have cancer and I'm happy. I'm happy because it's only in my bones. I'm happy because my cancer is still fed by estrogen.  I'm happy because if I had to have cancer invade my body again...this is the best kind I could have. I will see my children grow up and that's all that matters to me.  The words from my oncologist's mouth... "You will live for a very long time."

The plan... Stop my body from producing estrogen. I was already taking a drug that was supposed to do that but obviously it didn't work for me. Yesterday I was injected with a drug that will shut down my ovaries for one month. I can keep going back monthly for this injection but drugs didn't work last time. Instead I've chosen to have my ovaries removed. I will have my uterus removed as well.  There's no sense in keeping those unnecessary parts anymore.  They're just more parts that are at risk for cancer. I was also injected with a drug for strengthening my bones. Today the drugs for killing the cancer were delivered to my door.  Just a couple pills I take every day. I won't lose my hair. I won't get sick and weak. I just need them to start working quickly.  My bones are hurting.  I can feel the cancer...my rib especially. I'm limping also.  The cancer in my hip hurts when I walk but the rib hurts all the time. The doctor says the meds will kill the cancer and the pain should be noticeably improved within a month. I couldn't get those pills in my mouth quickly enough this morning after they arrived. I feel like it's a pretty good start to my day. I've already started kicking cancer's ass again and it's just barely 10am. 

Here I go...living life with cancer. I'll continue on just as I was.  The only real difference is that I am breakable. My bones are fragile and I have to be careful.  It made me think of this song.   

http://youtu.be/MgZ_tu8s5Wk

The best gift I have received in a very long time was given to me by one of our closest family friends. She captured the most beautiful pictures of my family. These moments become even more precious when you're wondering how much time you have left with your children.  I spent the past month worrying about that but now the worry has been lifted. I am blessed beyond what I deserve. I am surrounded with those who love me. I am blessed with the most beautiful and gifted children. I am in good health with the exception of a little bit of cancer that's trying to kill me.  I really am blessed.  Merry Christmas!

Fear and Loathing

Fear is disabling.  Fear grips tightly and doesn't easily let go.  Fear is a bitch.  

I've been struggling with sciatica for a while. Last month after going to the gym, I came home and barely could walk.  I decided to take an Epsom salt bath, hoping it would help alleviate the pain.  I finish bathing and stand up to shower. As I'm standing there I feel myself begin to black out. I started to lower myself down (which was a slow process because of the excruciating pain from my sciatica) and I black out as I'm going to my knees.  I woke up on my knees with my face pressed up against the wall.  My head hurt and my foot was throbbing.  I managed to get out of the tub and limp to my bed, only able to put pressure on my heel.   I don't even know how I ended up hurting my foot during the blackout. 

The next morning I went to the ER to get an X-ray of my foot which I thought could have been broken.  The doctor comes in and I tell him that I'm worried that I have a tumor on my spine and that is why I am having all this pain and numbness down my right leg.  He orders an MRI of my back.  After being in the ER for 8 hours, the doctor comes in and tells me they have found two suspicious spots on my spine.  Devastation.... fear... I can't have cancer in my spine. 

The next morning my oncologist tells me to just come see him without even scheduling an appointment. I bring a copy of the MRI and he reviews it.  He then informs me that the pain is actually caused by a slipped disc but higher up there are two spots that need to be looked at through a bone scan.  So for the past month I have been dealing with new insurance and new doctors trying to get the approval for the scan.  I also have a new oncologist. I went in to see him last week.  He reviewed my MRI and blood work and told me he doesn't think it's cancer. I asked him if he was just saying that to make me feel better. He said he never misleads his patients.  

Today is the day.  I went in at 10:00am and was injected with some chemicals.  I will go back at 1:30 to get the scan.  Tomorrow at 11:30, I have an appointment with my new oncologist where I will hopefully hear the words "I told you so". 

Here's the thing...  Every time something comes up it completely traumatizes me.   It traumatizes my family.  I can't function.  I can't move forward with my life while I'm sitting around waiting to find out if I have cancer again.  Relationships...  I had started dating.  How can I pursue a relationship knowing that I might soon be bald and sick?  I didn't want to tell anyone. I didn't want to talk about it. I just wanted to pretend it wasn't happening.

I am surrounded by people who love me...people who want the best for me.  I am also forced to deal with an ex-husband and his live in girlfriend.  I survived a 14 year dysfunctional marriage. I now have to deal with the crap that comes with divorce. 

I've spoken to the ex-husband's girlfriend a couple times.  I didn't have an issue with her until last week.  I was out with some friends. We were having a couple drinks.  One of my friends takes a picture of herself with my phone then goes to text it to herself and accidentally sends it to my ex-husband. Immediately afterwards she realized and sends a text saying "sorry!"   A few minutes later I receive a text from the ex's girlfriend.  Below you will find the text exchange. I had been drinking...probably should have just ignored her but I chose to respond to the picture of her cleavage with a screen shot of text messages my ex had sent me the previous day.  

So...she sends me a picture of her cleavage and then wants to have a heartfelt conversation about how to talk to my kids about my death...  This is the woman living with my children.  This is the woman that will be raising my children if something were to happen to me?  The insensitivity she displayed just by talking about my death before I have even been diagnosed...  Was she trying to be helpful and misunderstood? Was she trying to hurt me intentionally? Is it irrational to assume that by the way the conversation started (with a picture of cleavage) she is intentionally trying to hurt me by throwing in my face the worst possible thing someone can? Is it irrational to think this is a spiteful, heartless, shallow thing to do to someone who has to deal with the possibility of having cancer again? I know what I think about it. It's pretty clear to me. And I find it pretty sad.  I actually pity her.  Honestly, the fear of having cancer again is enough to deal with without having to deal with that kind of insensitivity and disrespect. 

Frank

Frank.  Short for Frankenstein. That's what I have named my right breast.  It's ugly...but it's a boob.  Can I really complain?  I mean...I could but I don't have it in me to complain anymore.  It is what it is.  I am flawed...physically...emotionally...  I have been wounded.  I am a mess.  And I'm okay with that.  I have learned to love who I am despite my imperfections and it actually feels pretty good.  

I can't even remember how many times I've said I was done with surgery.  I guess I've also resigned myself to the fact that I may never be done.  It has become routine.  Friday I had surgery.  I told my parents...I'm having surgery again.  I'll drive myself and have them call you when I'm ready to be picked up."  And that's how it works.  No big production.  No need to wake them up early and inconvenience them any more than they already have been.  This surgery...repairing my abdomen wall where a hematoma had formed and was causing me trouble.  Tattooing the nipple and areola so I no longer have a "Barbie boob".  A few other little touch ups.  A couple hours under anesthesia and I'm headed home to spend a couple days laying in bed again.  

Like I've said before, the worst part of surgery is the emotional toll it takes on me.  The physical pain makes me feel vulnerable.  After this surgery I woke up thinking about the relationships I've lost over the past couple years.  Some I mourn and some I don't.  My divorce will be finalized on Tuesday.  I will officially be single.  I am so hesitant to say that I no longer mourn my failed marriage...but it's true...I don't.  I have mourned and I'm ready to move on.  I have no hard feelings  I wouldn't change a thing.  It failed and I am done.  When I woke up thinking about failed relationships...I was thinking of those I'm still mourning.  A friendship.  A step-son.  A mother-in-law.  These are relationships where people chose to cut me out of their lives...therefore...I mourn.  

So, here I am...Frank and I...ready to move on with life.  I'm feeling pretty good physically.  I'm working out again, spending time in the sun, getting out and meeting people...It's been good.  In the past I've struggled with fitting in...figuring out where I belong.  Divorce brought up the same issue again.  Going to church and seeing those couples who once wanted to hang out when I was part of a couple...being with other moms who no longer share the common bond of being a stay at home mom...the looks of pity aren't that different than when I was going through cancer.  They might actually be worse now.  The fact is that I just don't care anymore.  For a while it really bothered me.  Then I realized that I don't really need to fit in anywhere.  I've always been a little different anyhow.  I have an off sense of humor...dry...blunt...awkward.  I'm obnoxious and like to act like a kid.  I like to point out my flaws and make fun of myself.  I like to be spontaneous and try new things.  I felt like I kinda fit in when I was married but I also lost myself.  I forgot who I was.  That won't happen again.

To all my prayer warriors:

Please pray for my brother-in-law, Jim.  He was recently diagnosed with colon cancer.  Jim, Heather, Dylan, and AlliGrace need all the prayer they can get while they fight this battle.  Thank you!

Where It's Safe

There's this person inside of me who laughs easily...dances freely...sings loudly...  For so long this person was lost.  I remember thinking...who am I...what happened to that fun loving person...  For a long time I didn't know how to get back to that but here I am...for the most part.  A friend sent me a meme today... it said, "You're only as deep as your most recent inspirational quote".  My response was... "I must be pretty shallow then because my last one was...Kids, stay in the shallow end of the pool".  I was being silly and it wasn't even very funny but it was so fitting because that is exactly where I'm at...being shallow...not letting myself think too deeply.  Letting my thoughts go deep is a dangerous place for me.  I just want to be light and feel only the good...but that can only last for so long.

Last night I sat down with one of my dearest friends who I met when I lived up in Northern California.  We were catching up on each other's lives.  I have only seen her once or twice in the past three years since I moved away.  I was telling her how I try to stay off of Facebook because it seems like every time I log on there is some terrible news about another friend from my Facebook group of women I've met who were also diagnosed with cancer during pregnancy who is dying.  I can't do it.  It scares me.  I am selfish.  I am not a good friend to these women.  If I have to face these realities it means I have to feel.  I have to feel the fear.  I have to feel the sadness.  I'm not ready to face these emotions.  Staying in a shallow place is so much easier... and right now I need easy.

As I sat there venting to my friend...she asked me..."Does your family know of all these little mini traumas that you have suffered on top of cancer and divorce?"  My answer is that I don't know.  I don't want to talk about it.  I don't want to talk about anything.  I have to ignore these things.  I have to remain numb to most things because I'm not ready to deal with the emotions I have been stuffing for so long.  For the past three years I have had the physical affects of cancer to distract me from the emotional pain.  My excuse for everything...I just had surgery....I'm getting chemo...more surgery...I just had a baby...more surgery...I'm doing radiation...more surgery...an infection...more surgery...a spot on my lung...biopsy...more surgery...  I haven't had the time or energy to take a good look at my emotions or my life.  For the past year I have had a surgery every 90 days...so much easier to focus on than the emotions I have been suppressing for so long...the traumas from cancer and even more so from a disastrous marriage.  

So here's the problem... I can't talk about the painful things and it's affecting my relationships with those that I love... the people who surround me who have blessed me in so many ways...the people who have sacrificed so much...the people who are emotionally invested in me.  They want to help.  They want to understand.  They ask questions.  I snap.  I push them away because I can't do it.  I can't be vulnerable.  If I'm vulnerable I will cry.  If I cry...I'm afraid I might never stop.

This is where the shame comes into play.  I should be okay.  I have so much to be grateful for.   I should be filled with joy because I'm alive...because I am blessed with four amazing children...because I am surrounded by family who love and support me.  I should be okay...but I'm not.  I'm not okay.  I push people away and I'm lonely.

My favorite artist: https://youtu.be/gBcQjTKAOQI

Sad and Numb

"Feeling too much is a hell of a lot better than feeling nothing."

- Nora Roberts

I remember a time where laughter came easily...smiling was natural. I remember a time where talking and sharing myself felt good. I remember when trusting people was automatic. I find myself sitting here staring out at the ocean mourning the loss of the person I was. It seems my life has become a confusing mixure of numbness and sadism. I run away from people because when I am around them I find myself detached...numb...lonely... To me there is nothing worse than feeling loneliness when I'm not alone. So I have become a recluse.  In my loneliness I allow myself to feel.  I allow myself to grieve.

I spent some time talking with my "soon to be ex-husband". It was a heart felt conversation.  As I looked at him with tears in his eyes, I wondered to myself...how did I become this person?  He is so filled with emotion and I feel numb. As we talked about our history I realized where this numbness came from.  I mean, I knew it before but it wasn't as clear as it became today. I spent my entire marriage hoping...giving the benefit of the doubt. I should have left a long time ago. I couldn't give up though.  Times were hard but I held onto a tiny shred of hope that we could succeed. It wasn't until every bit of hope was gone that I could let go. And this is where I'm at now. It's been almost a year and I am still empty...drained of hope. These are just feelings I speak of. Of course I know I am okay and I know my life will turn around from this chaotic mess. But right now I can't allow myself to think that far out. I can't allow myself to think of anything but this moment. If I put any thought into the future it will require me to hope...and right now I'm still recovering from all the disappointment. Right now I must choose to be okay with being numb and sad. It's not who I am but it is where I am at. 

I had my 7th surgery a couple weeks ago. I thought it would be my last.  I was so excited to be done. Two days after the surgery, I removed my bandages, looked in the mirror, then began to sob uncontrollably.  My boobs looked worse than they did before the surgery. Every time I walked past a mirror that first week, I just cried. I went to my follow up appointment and my surgeon said he couldn't do everything he needed to in order to make them symmetrical because he needed to make sure the transplanted tissue would survive and it couldn't handle that much alteration during one surgery. So...another surgery is in my future. 

I must admit that when I looked at them for the first time after this last surgery, I was devastated on many levels.  I just want to be as normal as I possibly can be. After going through breast cancer and losing my breast and my hair...I felt like everyone looked at me with pity in their eyes.  This disappointment was just one more opportunity for people to pity me for my mess of a life. (Yes, I realize how much I sound like I'm feeling like a victim)  I told my mom about it and asked her to tell no one else. I don't want anyone else telling me they're sorry for the things I've had to go through. I got it the entire time I was going through treatment.  I've been getting it for the past year with all the drama from the divorce.  I just want it to be over.  I don't want any more pity or sympathy or empathy... I hear how selfish I sound as I write this...how ungrateful I sound. That's truly not the case. I know I'm blessed.  I'm just in a grieving process and it keeps getting drawn out and I'm just exhausted and tired of disappointment. 

Paint Me a Picture

I fell in love.  He painted me a picture of who he was supposed to be.  I fell hard.  It was the first time in my life I felt that things made sense.  He would love me.  He would be loyal.  I looked into his eyes and they were so honest...so pure.  I could see the love in those eyes.  I could see the truth in the way he looked at me.  I fell in love.  I fell so hard.  I saw my future.  I had hope.  I opened my heart.   I let him in.  I gave him my everything.  All that I had.  I spoke my heart.  I revealed it all.  Then there was silence.  I panicked.  Desperation consumed me.  He was gone.  My mind started spinning.  What had I done?  It all became clear.  I had fallen in love with a picture.  It was painted with me in mind.  A deception.  A forgery.  I had been duped.  I have been played.  Who can I blame but myself for being so naive?  Who can I blame but him for being everything that I don't want.  I fell in love.  I fell in love with someone who was only make believe.

I am lonely.  I'm well aware of the state I'm in...fragile...vulnerable...naive...

Despite the fact that I was in a relationship where I was lied to and deceived for years...somehow I haven't become jaded.  I still find myself trusting too easily.  I am honest...brutally honest about myself.  I will tell you all of my flaws the first opportunity I get.  I am honest.  It makes me assume that other people will be as honest as I am.  Despite the fact that I have been lied to over and over again...I just can't find it in myself to assume that all people are that way.  I can't become jaded.  I can't allow myself to lose hope.  When will I learn my lesson?  Or is it a lesson worth learning?  I can close myself off...shut down...become jaded...not trust...assume people are all the same...untrustworthy...   Or I can continue on in my vulnerable state...my heart open...ready to trust...always believing...fragile...ready to love...  There's this internal conflict going on.  My mind tells me that I'm crazy.  The deepest part of my soul...who I am...me...I can't change it.  I don't want to change it.  I believe.  I trust.  I get my heart broken.  I am ashamed...and this shame comes from the fact that I know I am choosing to open my heart up even though it's most likely not wise.  This is who I am.  I think I would be more ashamed if I betrayed that.

Disclaimer:  I'm really okay.  I know I post these sad and desperate posts but that's because I only feel the need to write when I'm feeling strongly about something. Life has really been so much better. I feel an emotional freedom that I haven't felt in years....yet, I am still broken. I am learning to navigate a new life.  Mistakes will be made along the way. I can only hope that I learn from them.  This blog helps me. It's an outlet...my cathartic release.  I may seem like I'm falling apart but after I share my heart...I'm able to move on...to pick myself up and I feel restored after letting go of my emotions. 

Running Away

Life is so much easier when I can find something to distract me.  Distractions have become a vital part of my life for the past couple of years.  Before cancer, when things were hard in my marriage it was reading.  I used to pick up a book and finish it within 24 hours.  Reading was my escape from reality.  While I was going through treatment I didn't have the energy to read.  I tried.  I just couldn't focus or keep my eyes open long enough to finish a book...and besides that...it took every ounce of energy I had to keep it together...to figure out how to function.  I just couldn't handle distractions.  After treatment was over I needed a new escape.  I started playing a game on my phone.  It is a social game where you play with other people.  I started making friends through the game.  It was perfect.  I started interacting with people through the game...people who knew nothing about me...people who I could choose what they knew about me.  They didn't know I had short hair because it was just growing back from being bald.  I got to start fresh and decide what they knew about me.  I needed to have interaction with people who didn't look at me with pity in their eyes...people who didn't know...  I craved conversation about the weather...small talk...people who learned to like me for my personality, without their opinions being tainted by what I have been through.  This game has been my escape for the past year.  The funny thing is that I have made some real friendships with people I have met.  There are two women I've met who I am positive are friends for life.

Sometimes there is just no escaping reality  No matter how hard I try to pull away...sometimes reality still just slaps me in the face.  Today is one of those days.  I am so overwhelmed with anxiety.  I can't breathe.  I can't think.  I can't feel.  I am numb.  I want to run away.  There is nowhere to run though.  I have made choices in my life and I am now suffering the consequences.  I married a man who destroyed me emotionally.  The odd thing about this situation is that I don't see myself as one of those women who typically ends up in my situation.  I always looked at women in my situation as weak...insecure...damaged.  I've never thought of myself as insecure.  I know my value.  I just didn't understand why my husband didn't see it.  I fought...I fought hard and I failed.  Now things are a mess.  I have four children who love their father.  Their father is a man I can't stand to be around...a man who I don't even want to think about.  It's a mess.  Sometimes I spend all day long receiving text messages from him...things I don't want to read...hurtful things...it's exhausting.   I am surrounded by people who love me...people who are concerned for me and my children.  I am so blessed but that blessing can also be such a curse at the same time.  I know how terrible that sounds but it's how I feel.  I am so exhausted from dealing with the soon to be ex-husband and then I show up at my nephew's basketball game...I sit down on the bleachers next to my mom and my sister and all the questions begin...did he really do that?...did he really say that?...how did the kids react?...are they okay?...are your lawyers taking care of this?...do you need me to have a talk with your lawyer?...  The weight bearing down on me is so heavy already.  I love that they care so much...that they love me...that they love my kids...but I can't breathe.  The air is thin.  I am suffocating.  Where can I run to?

Who Shares This Crap?

Do not give dogs what is sacred; do not throw your pearls to the pigs.  If you do, they may trample them under their feet, and turn and tear you to pieces.

                                                                                                                      Matthew 7:6

Sometimes I think to myself...why do I feel the need to share my deepest feelings, my darkest thoughts, my heart...?  There are times when I can feel the judgement from those around me.  Why?  Why do I choose to put my private life out there for the world to see?  The funny thing about this...I didn't start questioning this until I blogged about non-cancer related topics.  Why is it okay to blog about cancer but not about a failed marriage?  Why is truth and vulnerability only okay if it's about illness?  It's okay to blog about the fear of death brought on by cancer but not the fear of having my heart broken again after a failed marriage?  I am black and white.  Fear is fear and pain is pain.  I have nothing to hide.  I am imperfect.  That's old news.  I choose to continue on writing whatever is on my heart.  I no longer care what people think.  I guess walking around bald and with one boob...seeing strangers look at me with my four children noticing that I have no ring on my wedding finger...maybe these things have left me realizing that I just don't care anymore about the judgments of those around me.  And most importantly...I believe that truth is the best medicine for my soul.  I also believe that hiding the truth from my children will only do more harm than good.  

I have a friend who recently started dating again after her divorce.  She was telling me about this dating app she uses.  She told me I should try it.  I laughed.  That is so not me...but then I started thinking about it.  What I look like on paper...  

35 years old.  Four children.  One real breast (but don't worry...in the process of finishing reconstruction of a new breast).  Unemployed.  Has completed some college (just the classes I found worthy of showing up for the final).  Lives with parents.  

I actually thought about creating a profile just for the sake of being able to laugh at how terrible it would look.  

I guess I'm kinda hinting at the idea that putting my heart out there again is terrifying.  My heart has been broken so many times...repeatedly by the same man.  I'm afraid that I am damaged beyond repair.  I am worried that my wounds are too deep.  I am terrified that my scars are too hideous to allow me to be still lovable.  

Too Honest (revised without the honesty)

Once again I didn't send out a Christmas card...so here it is.  I find these photos so fitting for my new family dynamic...selfie style...personalities are expressed perfectly.  Bubba (Ezekiel), on my hip...going with the flow and always smiling.  Ephraim, silly and always making the best of any situation.  Daphne, with her precious dimples, smiling, laughing, and finding a way to antagonize anyone in her presence.  Tobias...my mini me...stubborn...hates pictures...incapable of pretending to be something he's not...what you see is what you get...life is black and white...  This is our new family...me and my precious gifts from a failed marriage.  

Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward.

Psalm 127:3 

I had posted about issues that I was unable to be honest about while I was still married.  I ended up removing it all because it was requested.  Several times I have had permission to post this truth, however, it turned into a big mess.  I was accused of posting untruths...but the truth was written and some people don't like to have the truth brought to light.  It's unfortunate.

One Big Boob

Hey...guess what?  I have two boobs.  Seriously.  This isn't joke.  This is the real deal.  Rebecca Raymond finally has two boobs!

On August 6th, I went in to the hospital at 7:00am.  I drove myself, much to the dismay of my mother who said it just isn't right.  For me it is right.  I am stubborn and strong willed.  When I'm afraid or going through something difficult in my life, it's easier to keep it together if I'm alone.  When I'm alone, there is no one else around that I have to be vulnerable to.  Being vulnerable leaves me weak.  I must be strong...and my strength comes from deep within where I can be quiet and know that God is holding me steady and I can just breathe deeply.  The time before surgery starts is always easy as long as I'm taking those deep breaths.  It's the part where they wheel me into the cold sterile operating room...that's the part where I can feel my heart begin to race.  I feel alone.  The room is filled with people in masks.  There are no smiles.  There are no soft eyes looking into mine, reassuring me that everything is going to be okay.  I'm going into an 8 hour surgery with two surgeons.  They are going to cut into my stomach, dissect blood vessels from my abdominal muscles, remove skin and tissue, cut into my chest, reattach those blood vessels and create a breast.  EIGHT HOURS with TWO surgeons.  My entire adult life has been traumatic experience after another.  I was scared.  They wheeled me into that cold, sterile operating room.  They strapped my arms down to the table.  A nurse came up to the table, leaned against it so her hip was pressed against my side.  She laid her hand on my arm and rubbed my arm with her thumb.  She didn't say a word.  The warmth of her touch in that cold, sterile operating room is something I will never forget.

I met with the plastic surgeon 4 weeks before the surgery.  He told me that my homework was to do sit-ups every day.  He wanted me to send my abdominal muscles into a "state of shock".  Working them hard would get the blood flowing and open up the blood vessels.  This is important for this surgery because The fat, tissue and skin he was going to harvest from my stomach needs it's own blood supply so they take those blood vessels from the abdomen and then transplant them along with the tissue and skin to my breast.  They reattach the blood vessels and we pray that it all takes.  The normal number of blood vessels that are taken from the abdomen for this surgery is between 2 and 5.  My surgeon gave me homework and I did extra credit.  I was doing sit-ups, leg lifts, plank, and any other core exercises I could think of, trying to focus on my lower abs especially.  Dr. Watson is my new plastic surgeon.  He was proud of me and my work on my abs.  He only had to harvest one blood vessel.  The blood vessel was 4mm...which I guess is pretty impressive.

I woke up from surgery with a second boob and an incision from hip to hip across my stomach.  I was in the ICU for over two days.  This is because that new boob with that 4mm blood vessel supplying life to that newly transplanted tissue have to be monitored every hour.  The nurse would come in with a doppler and place it at the center of my new breast and every time I heard the woosh woosh of the blood flowing...it was music to my ears.  It brought a smile to my face...success.

I was released after 4 days in the hospital.  I came home and all I wanted was my kids.  I had missed them so much.  I spoke to them a few times on the phone while I was in the hospital but phone calls just aren't enough.  My babies bring me joy.  They are the greatest blessing.  I have a marriage that has failed but I received the four greatest gifts from that marriage.

Oh...one big boob...the title.  I almost forgot.  When Dr. Watson (the most amazing breast reconstruction surgeon) met with me for my follow up appointment, he told me that he made the new breast bigger than the old (saggy from breast feeding 3 children) boob because not all the tissue will be soft and supple.  Some of it will be hard and he will remove that tissue when he makes me a new nipple in three months.  I looked in the mirror...I thought it was just swelling but that new boob is HUGE!!  I was thinking...maybe he should just leave it and make my old boob just as big.  Just a thought...

I've mentioned several times that cancer is not the hardest thing I've had to endure.  It remains true.  Before it was my marriage that presented a greater challenge.  Now it's divorce.  Life has become a battlefield.  I'm realizing that it's a lot like that cold, sterile operating room right now.  I feel alone.  I need to breathe deeply and allow God to heal my heart that keeps getting broken over and over again...and the littlest touch...the smallest amount of warmth can impact my life so deeply.  I'm working on my deep breaths and every once in a while big tears.  Tonight those tears are extra big... with deep sobs.  These past few days I have been in mourning.  With the conflict between John and I...it's a lot.  Sometimes I just want to cry out...I want to search for that man who I thought loved me.  I want to say...don't you know how much I loved you?  Don't you know how much hope I had for our marriage?  Don't you know how much I saw the potential you had to be an amazing man...an amazing husband...an amazing father...just because the marriage is over...it doesn't mean that man needs to completely disappear.

Climbing a Mountain

Independence Day...my first time celebrating the 4th of July without my children.  John picked the kids up at 8am.  Every time John and I have any interaction there is quite a bit of conflict and tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.  Yesterday after he picked the kids up I felt myself brokenhearted.  I felt sick to my stomach that this is what all those years of work have turned into.  I needed to escape.  I needed to be on my own...to clear my head...to not speak...to just breathe.  I found myself longing to be out enjoying nature...alone.  I decided to head up to Ojai for a hike.  When I got home from the hike I was telling my aunt about my journey and the parallels with my life were just too ironic...so here you have my journey: the analogy... I'll make the analogy in the beginning obvious and then you can figure out the rest on your own.

The hike began on a smoothly paved road...a simple walk on sloping hills where my footing was firm and stable.  The path was easy to follow.  It was laid out for me...clear as day.  This was much like my childhood.  Raised by amazing parents who always made me feel safe and secure, who I knew were guiding me in the right direction.  

The paved road led me to a dirt trail.  I stepped onto the dirt trail and found my way on level ground for a while.  But then the trail started to get rocky and the climb up the mountain began.  This trail was new to me.  I'd never experienced it before.  Sometimes the trail forked and I wasn't sure which direction to take.  I found myself choosing the path closest to the creek.  Even though it was more rocky and a harder climb...it made me feel safe knowing that I had the creek to follow.  Several times I had to do a balancing act...finding my way on slippery rocks across to the other side of the creek.  I fought my way up this mountain...pushing myself hard.  This wasn't a leisurely stroll to enjoy nature.  This was me fighting to prove something to myself.  It was 101 degrees out.  I was dripping with sweat.  I heard the rattle snakes in the brush just off of the trail.  A snake even slithered across the trail just as I was about to pass.  There were places where there was no shade and I pushed myself even harder when the sun was beating down on me until I could get to that next shady place where I could stop for just long enough to get a drink of water and push on up the trail.  At one point the trail got extremely rocky and I couldn't tell where the trail was going.  I got lost.  I was no longer on the trail.  I no longer knew where I was going.  I looked at my phone.  I was three hours into my hike and had no cell reception.  My face and my arms were bright red despite having applied sunscreen three times.  My legs were dark brown from the dirt sticking to my sweaty legs.  I was dehydrated and exhausted.  I looked around to try to find the trail again and I couldn't find it.  I looked up the mountain and realized that I didn't want to do it anymore.  I couldn't do it anymore.  I couldn't find the trail to take me to the top of the mountain.  I couldn't continue searching for it and trying to fight my way to the top of the mountain when I was already so exhausted and the trail had been misleading me all along.  I decided I was done.  It was so hard for me to make this decision because I had committed to this hike.  I wanted to finish it.  I felt ashamed of myself for turning back so soon.

Heading down the mountain I had to find my way back to the creek and follow it until I came across the trail again.  Once I found the trail, it was so easy to follow this time.  Going up the trail, I couldn't see where it was leading me...but on the way down I knew exactly where I was headed.  The trail was easy to follow because I could see it.  I could see the coming obstacles.  I made it down the mountain in about 1/3 of the time it took me to climb up it.  By the time I reached that paved road that was so easy to walk on the way up, my legs were exhausted and that paved road seemed to go on and on forever.  I finally reached my car I realized what a wise decision I had made not to continue up the mountain.  I had called it quits at just the right time...while I still had enough energy to find my way back to the safety of my air conditioned car.  

The other day I picked the kids up from John's house and my daughter announced, "Dad has a girlfriend and we got to meet her."  My response..."Oh."  On the drive home, Ephraim asked, "Are you and Dad still married?"  My answer, "Yes."  Daphne said, "You haven't signed the paper that makes you divorced."

The path down the mountain may be clear to me now but there are still many obstacles...many rocky places where my footing isn't always firm.  While I know I made the right choice to not keep fighting my way up the mountain...I am exhausted and path down isn't as easy as it looks.