December

Well, my plan to write a post of gratitude for each day in November kind of bit the dust. I forgot the industry I work in and that spare time hits the fan in mid-November. Truthfully, I didn't think anyone was reading. Then a couple people asked what happened and why I wasn't writing. Thank you guys for noticing and for caring. 

I felt compelled to write today because it's the week of Christmas and I'm in a terrible mood. This Christmas seems harder than most, maybe just because I'm in it, but in my current state it feels like the Christmases inside of a bar watching my mom wobble on a round stool or trying to figure out how to make a Christmas dinner for three kids with $36 in food stamps was a breeze. Why? Life is stabilizing and things are good. 

I think I'll be spending Christmas Eve and Christmas Day alone. If so, that will be by choice- I was invited to Christmas by multiple people. My first thought was sitting in a room full of people who are family, and invading that space. When my family did have Christmas way back when, there was always an uncle or aunt who brought along a weird girlfriend or boyfriend we didn't know. Nobody spoke of the tension. You either buy that person an impersonal gift out of obligation because you don't know them, or they sit and watch you do an exchange with your family. The thought of being that person felt lonelier than taking care of the pile of laundry I still haven't hung up in my closet so I opted to do the latter. 

The thought of Christmas seems extraordinarily lonely for some reason. Is it the idea that "since now life is fixed, why are holidays still so broken?" Is it working in a tense place where for weeks I have seen the behind-the-scenes stress of people preparing a holiday that looks perfect from the outside? Is it the approaching anniversary of being pinned down on a bed and told that nobody would believe me if I said what was happening to me? I can't say. Maybe it's everything. Maybe it's something else. 

Somebody told me the old song-and-dance about how holidays are "just another day." I know this was to make me feel better. It pissed me off. Special days are important to me. It doesn't matter if I've been conditioned to think that or not. I've spent most birthdays and holidays alone and they're deeply meaningful to me to try to make good. I think people who say that special days don't matter either have always had the luxury of them being special, or it's a self-protective statement from someone who's perpetually felt a deep, aching aloneness where there should be a feeling of unity and belonging. 

I got into this mode I get into. I'm alone, nobody cares, I don't matter, no one around me understands. And then for some reason, there was a voice of conviction. 

A while back, I was talking to a friend who said, "Angela, how self-absorbed are you to think you're the only one like you?"  Maybe it was just his echo in my mind. I was talking to him about feeling like my only options for a partner were a caring, boring person or a trainwreck with passion. I thought about the last year of my life, the people I met... Was I really the only person who knew aloneness? I certainly was not. And this year, I learned I am loved. 

How self-absorbed and entitled am I to feel alone? How many people did I turn down in favor of being alone because the old tapes in my head told me I'm unworthy to join other people, that I would be invading some kind of a sacred space? What about my children? I see them tomorrow. Maybe not exactly the way I want, but how can I look at them and think that I am truly alone? They don't want the version of a mother that I thought I would be or that I promised myself I would be- they just want to know they matter and nobody can do that the way their mother can. I know because I had parents that gave up. They let go without a fight and that's what this feeling inside of me truly is. It's not the people around me. They're loving me. They're inviting and including me. They're proving themselves safe. As an adult I can now say that three important people in my life- my parents and the man I thought I would spend the rest of my life with- did not truly love me, did not protect me and did not fight for me- so what? That's three people. Three people with important roles, who didn't do their job, but in that, a sea of others flooded in with understanding and a love free of obligation. I never want my kids to have to make that choice or that realization with me, but I am grateful I can make it for myself since I can't change where I came from. They are three people that actually matter, and I won't let anyone who came before them allow me to forget that. 

I'm thankful. 

I'm thankful for the truth of who I am and the truth of the people around me. Memories sometimes get in the way. You apply traits to people who don't live in your world anymore. You give scars a name or try to shield yourself from new ones. It's not real. One day you reach a point where you can look someone in the eye and know that there is no sinister other side to them, and that is when you're very free. I have more people like this than I can count and I am so very grateful. 

November 16: Thankful for Understanding

In difficult times, the worst parts are uncertainty and feeling alone. 

It's hard to see the end and it's hard to feel like anyone understands what you're experiencing. Everyone's experiences and the way they handle things are unique but rarely are we in a situation that someone else hasn't experienced and rarely are we in a situation someone else hasn't lived through or at least seen through until the end. 

I hate that anyone has experienced the same kind of heartbreak I've felt but in those moments we could help one another. The people who have made it through become your mentors and encourages, and you become a reminder of where they used to be and what they overcame. Eventually you can become that for someone else. The people who are experiencing the same difficulty at the same time, become your teammates. Two broken people don't make a whole person but when you've got someone beside you, the darkness is less daunting. You may not believe in yourself as much as you need to but you can see from the outside that they're capable of overcoming. And they see this in you.

Today I'm thankful for my mentors and those who walked alongside me 

November 15: Thankful for Woodland Hills

Today I'm thankful for my church and the people in it. I've been back in Minneapolis almost three months and intentionally avoiding going there because that's the boys' and my home church and the idea of going there without them sounded painful. But I drove there and went there anyway. The inside has been remodeled and is so pretty. The church has a large congregation and it was pretty full. I found a seat during worship and was singing for a good few minutes before I realized that I was sitting next to this couple, Dan and Cheryl Wuerch, who the boys and I lived with.

I had lived with a guy friend of mine who insisted he was just trying to help the boys and me, but as soon as he found out I had a boyfriend he kicked me out. My ex loved Woodland Hills and visited that church every time he would fly in to Minnesota because that's where his friend Matt would go. Cheryl responded to our need for housing- a day before I was supposed to move out. Not only did Dan and Cheryl have a huge house, they raised an adult child with autism and Cheryl is a sign language interpreter (Felix is non-verbal, and Cheryl helped us all learn basic sign language to communicate with him). The whole thing was a huge blessing. Cheryl was also pretty much my only confidant during a lot of the relationship issues. I am so thankful today that out of a room of about 1,000 people I sat right next to them without realizing it. 

We talked after the service and they told me that they never come to the 11am service but felt that they needed to today. It was definitely a divine appointment. Being able to tell them I had a full-time job and had made so many positive changes. Sometimes in the day to day you don't think you've changed, and some people will try to bring you down and tell you you're "the same old person you've always been," but talking to them showed me how much I had changed since meeting them. 

We went to services there as a family. I volunteered in the children's ministry. It was part of our routine. We were one of the sponsored families at Christmas time and people were so generous to us. I spent every Thursday night there in a support group where I bonded with so many amazingly strong women. They have a special child care area for kids with special needs and Felix always loved going to church there. They were so gentle with Lars when he would struggle emotionally. Mills has been going there since before he was even born. My life as a Christian was really molded there. Our life as a family. 

It felt so good to be back at Woodland Hills. The sermon was on Romans 8:28 and about dealing with difficult people in a loving way. It was so timely. I left feeling so full. I have cried so many times before in that parking lot and it was never good, but I was crying tears of joy today. 

November 14: Thankful for Hardship

Today I'm thankful for what I have learned through hardship. 

I'm thankful that I know not to trust someone based on their words or even their actions when everything is going the way they want. I can only trust someone based on watching them on a hard day. 

I'm thankful that sometimes parents don't love their kids, but it doesn't matter because nobody's worth is truly defined by whether or not their parents love them.

I'm thankful to have seen people easily deceived or deeply in denial because it's forced me to check myself and ask how many times I've done that. 

I'm thankful that I got really good at failing and mastered it because now I can move on to learning how to succeed and master that. 

I'm thankful to know that there's lots of company at the bottom, that sloughs itself off as you climb out of a pit, via jealousy or self-conviction or a mentality of "misery loves company." Quality company comes from people who know where you've been or at the very least see you as capable of more and believe in you. They're not threatened by you improving yourself and they want to see you win. 

I'm thankful that addiction is genetic and I've tried almost every drug imaginable but by the grace of God I'm not grappling an addiction. 

I'm thankful that adulthood brought clarity that I was sold a lot of lies as a kid. Being depressed isn't cool, romance won't save you from yourself, your worth isn't wrapped up in how many people want to bang you and life gets way easier as soon as you stop trying to get everyone to like you. 

November 13: Thankful for Paris

I am thankful for Paris. 

I've been talking about Paris all week and when I heard the tragic news about the terrorist attacks there, I found it bizarre that I had been bringing up the city so often.

When I was in Europe, I was leaving Amsterdam to get to the train. The plan was to take the train from there to Brussels and then fly to Chicago. To be honest I was completely over being in Europe at that point. I was running late and told my cab driver to step on it. In Amsterdam there are several traffic lanes- the tram, public traffic, cabs- and there are walkways in between where people will walk or ride their bikes. A guy was darting across the street and my cab driver hit him. He tumbled over the top of the Mercedes I was in. He survived, with a broken leg and a concussion, thank God, but I did miss my train and flight that day. The airline told me I could spend the night in Paris or spend the night in Brussels. The airport was in Brussels and I didn't want to risk missing another flight. I regret many things on that trip but I was talking just this week about how I regretted not going to Paris. Back then I had no concern for my safety- nobody really had the fear that we all have now. I left Europe a month or so before September 11th, 2001. 

This is the second major terrorist attack on France, after the Charlie Hebdo attack. It's seeming less romantic and more frightening lately. I still want to go. 

I'm thankful my friend Amber left Paris on Tuesday. I'm thankful that people still care when bad things happen to people they don't know. I'm thankful that I've had the luxury of taking for granted my own perceived safety. I'm thankful that people reach out to help strangers. I'm thankful that people rebuild after tragedy. I'm thankful that sometimes people who are victims have a voice and supporters and are loud and demand something good come out of something bad. I'm thankful I'm in a crowded shopping mall as I write this, and nobody around me is trying to kill anybody. 

November 12: Thankful for Old Photographs

I had a long day at work and wasn't quite sure what I would write about today for my gratitude post. I checked my email and saw that my friend KP (Kristina Perkins) is once again doing her photo project, exhibit and benefit "You Are Beautiful Minneapolis." The proceeds benefit the Sexual Violence Center- which is coincidentally where I had just returned home from when I got the email. 

She now has a website exclusively dedicated to the benefit, in addition to her street and lifestyle photography site. You can see it here:

http://www.youarebeautifulbenefit.com

When KP came over to the house it was about 7 in the morning. I was getting the boys ready for school and onto the bus. I had been in my own apartment only a month or so. She used a film camera and took some photos of us. After I got the big kids on the bus, Baby Mills showed KP the top bunk of the bunk beds and wanted to play with her and show her all his toys. After a while, KP left and some time later I saw a few of the photos she took. 

(Photos courtesy of Kristina Perkins, kpcreates.com)

I remember seeing the photo of the kids and I eating breakfast and thinking that I looked very tired and haggard which was how I felt a lot of the time. Going about my day and even now, memories echoed through my mind, especially about my worth as a person: "if you leave me nobody will ever love you," "you're all used up," "you've got three kids from two different dads; you're nothing but a baby mama." I worked at a makeup store at the time and I think I spent a lot of time hiding behind the makeup or the job and using it to feel like I could be pretty or worth something. Seeing myself without all of that certainly felt vulnerable.

But I remember waking up that morning and being at peace. I was in my own place, we had food to eat and the boys had woken up so peacefully. The boys weren't disturbed or disrupted by KP being there taking photos of us eating breakfast. It was such a nice morning. My favorite part of the day was getting up and eating breakfast together as a family before the big boys went off to school. That apartment was great too, even though it was small. It was a few blocks off of Central and Lowry Avenues and was walking distance to a pastilleria where we would sometimes go and buy warm churros for 50 cents each. It seems forever ago but was not long at all, only about 2 and a half years. It just felt in that apartment like things were going to be all right. 

Even back then though, it was undeniable that something major was going on. Getting the photos back I saw how I looked and was a little taken aback. People had mentioned the weight I had lost but a lot of them said I looked great. One person even said, "now that you're single again I guess you have a reason to look good." That was probably one of the most hurtful things I've ever been told. 

However, today when I looked at the photos from last year's benefit, I scrolled to a photo I don't think I had seen before. It was a dark-haired little boy that looked just like my son Lars. I mean, REMARKABLY like Lars. But it couldn't have been him because he was standing next to an older, frail-looking man with sunken cheeks and gangly arms. I zoomed in on the photo and realized something: that little boy was indeed Lars, and that frail old guy, was ME.

How does someone not recognize a picture, OF THEMSELVES?

I cannot believe that it took 5 minutes for me to recognize myself in a photo. That photo alone made me want to be part of the project again this year. I'm healthy now and I want people to see that. I don't know what motivated KP to choose the Sexual Violence Center of all places to be the beneficiary of her exhibition- there are a lot of worthy charities and organizations in Minneapolis- but I am thankful it's there, I'm thankful it's being supported by people like KP who care, and I'm thankful that she unknowingly at the time was date-stamping with photographs, exactly what I looked like on the outside and how it reflected what was going on inside. I'm thankful for change and growth. I am healthy now. 

November 11: Thankful for the Passage of Time

I think I might just feel the most free in my car. I've already written about driving or cars a few times now I think. I'm stuck in bed again today and still sick. I wish I could have gone to work or at least driven to the laundromat to do my laundry. To me, driving means freedom. I can go where I want, I can get away if I am unsafe, I can do for myself. This story is about driving.

The beginning of the downward spiral happened when he didn't answer my texts. Then he didn't answer my calls. I was worried something had happened to him. I called the coffee shop where he said he was going and they hadn't seen him either. It was late on a Friday night and I started to panic. My first thought was that he was struck by a drunk driver. 

I checked our bank account to see where he had been last and at what time. There I saw two check card transactions for places in a town 30 minutes away from where he said he would be. A few minutes later he called. He said his phone died and he was at the coffee shop. 

Right away I knew who the girl was. She was from that town.

It had never happened to me before. And the confrontation was indeed the spiral. I never wondered what I did to deserve it. I wasn't even jealous or angry, just confused, and later, scared. 

I was in my new apartment and got a call from my dream job. They asked if I could do some freelance shifts and I immediately agreed. They told me at the end of the phone call, that it was in that same town. 

I worked there for over a year, full time. I spent a lot of time listening to Christian radio and praying out loud. Some days I was asking God to get him the help I thought he needed or to fix him so we could be a family again. Then I started asking God to help me get over him or forget about him. Then one day I got really pissed off. 

"Oh God, You're so awesome," I thought, "of ALL the places I could be going to work, You send me down the same stretch of highway he drove down the night she was in the passenger's seat of our car! You send me to the same town every day. That's just GREAT. I drive past 6 other locations to get here, but none of THOSE are the one You have for me! It's THIS one! How great and merciful You are to twist the knife! So glad You're in control and my life is in Your sadistic hands. Can't wait to go to work! Maybe I'll run into her! Thanks SO much for the provision and the great job in the WORST possible place and with the WORST possible commute and a collective HOUR each day to think about all of this. TERRIFIC. You know what? He strung me along and watched me suffer too. The only difference between him and You, is he could touch me. Where are You right now? You're watching all this and doing nothing."

This wasn't the only time I felt this way. I was conflicted. On one hand I read you're not supposed to mock God. On the other hand I had a lot of people tell me that God knew how I was feeling and He could take it, I could be real with Him. I really don't know to this day which one is the right one or even if it matters. 

But I do know that I loved my job, my coworkers, my company and clients. It was at this time that work was my solace and the place where I felt purposeful and confident. I don't know which day it was, but I know it was the middle of winter. I pulled into the parking lot and turned off my car, and all of the sudden I realized it was the first day that I didn't think of him or that night that was the beginning of the end. I was thinking about going to work. 

Pretty soon, that stretch of highway wasn't the road he used to do whatever it was he did that night. It was the road I drove to get to work. And that city wasn't where some girl lived. It was where I worked. It wasn't his anymore, it was mine and it had relevance to my life and what I was doing in the present.

Today I'm thankful for the passage of time. For this example and so many other reasons. Pain really sucks, and when we are in it, it feels like it will never go away. But when it's gone, it's almost like it is better than if it was never there. It wasn't my goal to take something back for myself- I just wanted it fixed in the way I pictured or wanted to not feel anything for it any longer. God had a different plan and I'm glad He did.