Love.

‎”You can ask the universe for all the signs you want, but ultimately, we see what we want to see when we’re ready to see it.”

- How I Met Your Mother

Funny the Way It Is…

Is it really December?? This year sure has gone by in a flash, but that may be because I have been crazy busy with work, school, and life.

Work
Work is going well, but I still have a lot to learn in my new position. I frequently ask myself, “why did you make this move? Were you out of your mind?” The truth is – I absolutely love my job and the impact that my department’s work is making in the educational world. What I’m struggling with is the feeling of being stuck in the middle. I left a team that I adored - a team that became another family for me - a team that was there when I got the call about my burning home, that saw me at my most vulnerable, that wiped away my tears and lifted me back up, that challenged me to just be me.  My new team is the exact opposite, and unfortunately the two teams don’t see eye-to-eye. I’m stuck in the middle, like a child who got caught up in an ugly divorce. It’s the worst situation ever, and it is affecting me physically and emotionally. It saddens me to know how out-of-character I am when I go to work. I know what I have to do to make it stop, but I can’t seem to find the courage to move forward. Bullies are powerful people!

School
School has been fantastic, and I’m so glad that I finally got back into the classroom. I’ve earned 12 credits so far and I’m carrying a 4.0 GPA. It’s an amazing feeling! I must admit that it has not been all rainbows and unicorns though. There were two occasions where I was this close to saying screw it all, but something kept me going and I’m glad it did. The best reward is finishing a tough paper and getting an A. My house may not be spotless, and I might have a large load of laundry to do, but this is only temporary and in less than two years I’ll finally have my bachelor’s degree.

Life
I was so excited when 2010 rolled in because I’ve always believed that the even-numbered years had more luck than the odd-numbered years. I remember telling my therapist this right before we took a break for the holidays, and she looked at me as if I was out of my mind. As I reflect on the last twelve months I think she was right – my theory was ridiculous. Drew and I had a lot of challeges to overcome in 2010 – a lot of them we kept to ourselves – but we made it. Thank God.

A letter to my best friend

Dear Beasley,

You came into my life so unexpectedly, but as soon as I laid eyes on you I knew that you belonged with me. You were just barely eight weeks old, and so sick. You had been taken away from your mama much too soon, along with the rest of your brothers and sisters. You were the runt of the litter and it showed. It didn’t take much begging of Drew to let me have you because he knew that I could give you the TLC that you needed.

Our first couple of weeks together were challenging. Your puppy chow was too big to eat so I had to smash it into a powder before serving it to you. We tried to kennel you at night but you cried and cried and cried until I would let you sleep in bed with us. Drew was always worried that one of us would roll on top of you in the middle of the night and crush you, but you knew when you had to move. Potty training was a nightmare, and took us six long months.

I always thought of myself as a cat person until I met you. You’re the best of both worlds – small like a cat and playful like a dog. Your little body definitely does not accurately represent your big personality! You’re my reliable sidekick: always up for a drive, a walk, or just lounging around the house. You have helped me get through my post traumatic stress disorder in so many unspeakable ways. I don’t think you know how much I rely on you, maybe more than you rely on me. You never let me down, and for that I hope you’ll be around for many many years!

You’re the coolest Min Pin I’ve ever met, and I’m so glad that you’re mine!

Love,
Megan

Tags: 30 Letters in 30 Days

Oh, hai.

A friend politely reminded me last night that I have not posted anything for quite a while. Random? Yes. Surprised? Yes and Yes. I did not realize that anyone actually read this, and it feels good to know that my absence did not go unnoticed.

I’ve been busy, and that’s my only excused. I had a lot pop up all at once and those matters needed my full attention. In addition, I accepted an offer to transfer to a different department at work which resulted in a new team, new office and a completely new location (with a longer commute). As if working through the transition and change wasn’t overwhelming enough I thought I’d get my butt back in school and finally finish my degree.

A new position and being back in school are two VERY cool events in my life at the moment, but the highlight of the last few months was being fully released from therapy. I’m done! My doctor felt that I had overcome the PTSD, but warned that it will never go away. The difference between then and now is that I can handle it, rather than fear it. Take that you stupid fire!

I am enjoying being back in school again, but I’m really hating all of the APA papers that have to be written. I have ten pages due in four days, and I swear – if procrastination could write a paper…I’d be rich. If I really think about my reasons for procrastinating it’s probably just the writer’s block that I’m struggling with (the same goes for my blogging, or lack there of). Do you ever feel like you just can’t find the words?

Hopefully my creativity will make a comeback soon. Until then, I found this on another blog and thought it might be an excellent way for me to start writing again.

30 Letters in 30 Days

 WRITE A LETTER TO THESE PEOPLE :

Day 1 — Your Best Friend

Day 2 — Your Crush

Day 3 — Your parents

Day 4 — Your sibling (or closest relative)

Day 5 — Your dreams

Day 6 — A stranger

Day 7 — Your Ex-boyfriend/girlfriend/love/crush

Day 8 — Your favorite internet friend

Day 9 — Someone you wish you could meet

Day 10 — Someone you don’t talk to as much as you’d like to

Day 11 — A Deceased person you wish you could talk to

Day 12 — The person you hate most/caused you a lot of pain

Day 13 — Someone you wish could forgive you

Day 14 — Someone you’ve drifted away from

Day 15 — The person you miss the most

Day 16 — Someone that’s not in your state/country

Day 17 — Someone from your childhood

Day 18 — The person that you wish you could be

Day 19 — Someone that pesters your mind—good or bad

Day 20 — The one that broke your heart the hardest

Day 21 — Someone you judged by their first impression

Day 22 — Someone you want to give a second chance to

Day 23 — The last person you kissed

Day 24 — The person that gave you your favorite memory

Day 25 — The person you know that is going through the worst of times

Day 26 — The last person you made a pinky promise to

Day 27 — The friendliest person you knew for only one day

Day 28 — Someone that changed your life

Day 29 — The person that you want to tell everything to, but too afraid to

Day 30 — Your reflection in the mirror

Thoughts on Therapy: The day my life went up in flames

 After meeting with my therapist for the first time we had a two week break due to schedule conflicts. So, my therapist gave me some homework. I had to write out my story about the fire and include every single detail I could recall. When we met again, I had to read the story outloud to her. Writing and reading this was the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do. (Note: this has been slightly edited from the original to keep some level of privacy)

July 18^th, 2007

It was a Wednesday and it was warm and sunny. Drew and I were looking forward to the weekend, as we were going to have a few friends over for Fish Day on Saturday and then celebrate our one year anniversary on Sunday. The weekend was so close we could barely stand it. Drew left for work at 5:30 am and I headed out around 7:15 am. I was wearing my khaki capris that I loved with a white summery top, a tank top underneath, and my new black sandals.

 My day was going well, just another day at the office and another day closer to the weekend. We were super busy that day trying to process registrations. My co-worker, Mary, was out of the office. She had a vacation day but luckily we had the extra help of our student worker, Emma. At 4:15 pm, I got a phone call from someone who had directly dialed my extension. I did not recognize the number on the caller id. I assumed it was someone’s cell phone and picked up the phone.

 “University ______, this is Megan,” I said.

 The caller responded with a jumbled mess of words. It was like they were speaking in a different language. I could not understand anything they had just yelled into the phone, not one word.

 “Hello?” I asked.

 Again, it was another mess of words. I started to wonder if someone was just messing around. Drew had been notorious for prank calling people, as well as his friends. Frustrated that my time was being wasted, and wanting to leave work on time, I hung up the phone. Our student worker, Emma, was in my office looking for something and had heard the whole conversation and we laughed it off. Then, the phone rang again. It was from the same number that I had just hung up on.

 “University _______, this is Megan,” I said, again.

 The voice responded, more slowly and clearly, “Megan, this is Drew, I’m calling from the neighbor’s cell phone. Our house is on fire – you need to get home NOW!”

 My whole body went numb and for a second I couldn’t function. I was in shock.

 “Are you there?” He said.

 “Yes. What do you mean our house is on fire?” I yelled.

 “Just get home, now!” He yelled back.

 The phone went dead. He hung up on me. Again, I was in shock. Emma had heard everything. She tried to console me but I can’t remember what she said. It was all a blur.

 “Holy shit, my house is on fire. I have to go home” I proclaimed to her.

At that point my co-worker’s heard the commotion and came to my office to assist me. Emma quietly told me to leave, just go, and that she would take care of shutting everything down for me. As I was running out the door my co-worker, Marty, followed me out and said what I was not ready to hear – “don’t worry hun, the renter’s insurance will replace all of your belongings!” Little did she know, Drew and I did not have renter’s insurance. In fact, I had just gotten a quote for it a few weeks earlier when I had bought my new car and was updating my policy. The most ironic part of it was that the paperwork was sitting on top of the microwave in my burning kitchen.

I held myself together until I got to my car. As soon as I was out of the parking lot, with my sunglasses on, I completely lost it. I was crying so hard that I was hyper ventilating. I didn’t know what else to do so I called my parents. My mom answered the phone. Normally she never would have been home on a Wednesday afternoon because she was working towards her second master’s degree – however she had just had her final class the week before. She was all done with school and she was home to answer my call. I don’t remember anything about our conversation except for telling her what was going on and her trying to calm me down enough so that I could drive. The drive home was like a bad nightmare. I was filled with fear, sadness and millions of questions…how did this happen? Why did this happen? Why us? Why now? Is Bella ok? What about our neighbor’s homes? What will everything look like? What are we going to do?

As I got closer to home, I was scanning the sky for black smoke and flames. I was looking for anything that signaled there was a fire because in my mind, I was preparing myself for the worst. I was planning on seeing nothing more than ashes, upset neighbors, and firefighters.

There was nothing. No signs of an emergency. I started to wonder if it was some sort of sick and twisted joke. Who would think this sort of thing is funny? I felt angry, very angry. And then, I saw it all. I made my turn onto our street and there they were – the fire trucks, the police cars, the cars of the first responders, the ambulance, and a bunch of curious onlookers. Oh god, this really isn’t a joke.

I didn’t think I would be able to get into the parking lot, so I parked on the street. I had finally stopped crying, but started to get shaky and weak. I had to take a deep breath before I got out of the car. I started to walk quickly towards a herd of firefighters. My shoes were slowing me down, so I took them off in the middle of the street and went barefoot. The first firefighter I saw was Tom. He is not only a firefighter, but also the owner of a jewelry store in town. He was a mentor for Drew while he was growing up and he had designed our wedding rings for us. As soon as he saw me, he gave me a big hug. He told me that Drew was ok, that the fire wasn’t that bad and that they were able to save Bella. After the fire sparked she sprinted down to the basement and sat in the window. The firefighters were able to open the window, cut the screen and pull her out. She was safe and sound and the neighbor’s house.

I ran up to the front of the townhouse where I saw more firefighters, our neighbors and Drew. He was just sitting in the grass with a blank stare on his face. He was covered from head to toe in soot. His white t-shirt was now black, as well as all of his exposed skin. He looked like a coal miner. I gave him a big hug and sat down next to him, just watching all of the strangers going in and out of our home. The windows were all open and I could hear lots of beeping – someone told me that was the sound of the firefighters checking for hot spots in the walls. There was an eerie silence, but I remember seeing a lot of activity. It was like a part in a movie where they show a montage and play very sad music. The silence was really starting to bother me so I started asking Drew questions.  I must have been shooting out too many questions because Drew quickly silenced me. He wasn’t ready to talk and I retreated.

Finally the fire chief approached us and said that it was safe to enter the house.  As we were getting ready to go in and assess the damages, my parents showed up. I felt relieved to see them. My mom started asking the fire chief a million questions, things that I never would have thought to ask because of how distracted I was. He confirmed that our home was deemed unlivable. There was too much smoke damage, on all three floors. He also explained that by the time they showed up, the fire had extinguished itself because of how extremely hot it was. Before we went in, I asked the fire chief if it was ok to grab our personal belongings. I wasn’t sure what I could and couldn’t do. I had no idea if they needed to investigate, if they needed to take photos, or anything of that nature. He told me to grab whatever we could and then offered the support of the Red Cross. My parents stepped in and declined the offer and then stated that we could stay with them rather than check-in to a hotel.

The conversation started to wrap-up and it was time for us to really go inside our charred home. It was hot and humid. The odor nearly suffocated me. The air was dead. I headed upstairs to our bedroom and grabbed our wedding photos that were waiting to be framed. They were still wrapped up in plastic and were unharmed. I think I handed them to my dad so that he could take them out to the car right away. Then, I got down on my hands and knees to look under the bed for Bella. I had forgotten that she was safe a few doors down. We had hard wood floors in our bedroom, but they felt more like the hot sand on a beach. They were very warm because our room was directly above the kitchen where the fire had originated. It was the strangest feeling. Drew found me upstairs and we started to throw whatever we could into our luggage bags and backpacks. Neither one of us knew what was important enough to grab first. We started throwing clothes into the bags as well as our daily necessities (deodorant, tooth paste, shampoo and conditioner, etc). Again, I think my dad was there to take our things out to the car for us. So we wandered around, like strangers, in our own home. Our first home together – the place where we were starting our new life together as a married couple. Everything was covered in black soot. Our white walls were black and the white carpet had black footprints all over it. My curtains and blinds were all melted, right off the rods. Everything we had worked so hard for, all of our wedding gifts, were ruined in the blink of an eye. I stood there and cried and my mom hugged me. Drew walked around, taking everything in, with the same blank stare he had from the moment I saw him. There were no words that could make either one of us feel better, or maybe it was just that we didn’t know what to say. The only words I can remember from Drew were, “I’m sorry.” He would repeat it over and over again and then not talk for a while. It was like he had hoped that if he apologized enough that this would all go away. I could feel the guilt he was carrying and it tore me apart. I quickly realized that one of us had to stay strong. We would get nowhere if both of us were grieving from such a traumatic event. I decided that I would be the strong one. Drew had gone through so much more than I did. He was in the house when the fire started, he almost got trapped in the house, he saw the flames surrounding him and he was the one to warn all of our neighbors to get out. There was no time for me to be upset because I needed to worry about Drew.

We continued our tour of the townhouse and tried to get a visual assessment of the damages. Most of the smoke damage was on the main floor, but it had also made its way to the basement and the second floor. Everything was covered in a dusting of soot. I walked into the laundry room, in the basement, to grab some more clothes and heard the sound of trickling water. At first I thought it was the washing machine but then I something caught my eye – dripping down the basement wall was the water and foam that had been sprayed onto the stove. I moved everything I could away from the wall to avoid any water damage and cleared a path for the water to lead itself to the floor drain.

When I made my way back upstairs, I saw that my mom was showing the neighbor boy around our house. She had invited him in and, being the teacher she is, was giving him a visual lesson in why you need to be careful when using the stove. The neighbor boy, an outgoing nine year old, was very quiet and looked quite stunned. I felt guilty at that moment because we were almost responsible for taking away his home, too.

My parents headed home to start preparing my old bedroom for us to stay in. Drew and I grabbed a few more things and then headed to my hometown. Drew took a shower right away and put on some clean clothes. When he was done, I gave our cat Bella a bath. She hated the water and I felt terrible for traumatizing her even more but it needed to get done. She scratched me pretty bad and actually tore up my tank top in her attempts to escape the bath tub. I tried to calm her but she wanted nothing to do with me. She had just survived a fire, got moved around to a strangers house and then to my parents house and then was forced to take a bath. I started to wonder if after all that, that I would end up giving her a heart attack and kill her.

The rest of the evening was pretty quiet. We ate dinner with my parents. We watched television. My co-worker, Stacy, called me to see how things were going. I gave her all the details and told her that I was not planning on being at work the next day. Stacy really didn’t say much, she just gave me the opportunity to vent and I think that’s what I needed after such a long day. Later on, I got a phone call from the apartment management company. The woman on the other end was pretty dry. She asked how Drew and I were doing but didn’t seem to care about my response. She then inquired as to whether or not we had renter’s insurance. I informed her that we did not and the joked about the irony of having just gotten a quote for it the week before. She didn’t get the joke and then started to explain to me how Drew and I were going to be responsible for their deductible of $3000. I was in shock. After all that we had just gone through, she cared more about us forking over more money and doing so in a timely matter. She also wanted to remind me that we would not be getting our security deposit back. Well, hello? Wasn’t that part obvious? I was annoyed and disappointed that I was being treated like a criminal. In fear that she was going to ask for another month’s worth of rent for August, I made it clear that our townhouse would be cleared out by July 31. We had no intent on returning when the townhouse was remodeled due to the emotional strain and how poorly we were treated by the woman.  The conversation ended unresolved – she was asking for money and I was refusing to pay.

Drew and I got to sleep in a big, comfy, king-sized bed that night. I slept well but Drew had a few nightmares. Bella slept under the bed.

Thursday morning we got up around 8 and headed straight to the townhouse. It was just the two of us. As we approached the front door, it felt like we were returning home, like nothing had happened the day before. I was the first to enter. The smell was like a brick wall and that’s when reality hit me. This was no dream. My body didn’t know how to react, there was too much to take in all at once so I fell to my knees and sobbed. Drew let me be and started to quietly pack up the things that we could save.

The next two days were spent cleaning out our home. Our days started around 8 am and ended when the sun started to go down. The electricity was shut off by the firefighters and we never turned it back on so we only had the daylight to work with. The management company had rented a dumpster and allowed us to use it. It was difficult to throw our things away, especially because most of it was still new to us.

The weekend of July 21-22, we decided to take a break from the townhouse. That Saturday we spent at Fish Day. We watched the parade from a friend’s house and then walked around for a bit. We ran into a lot of our friends who had either not heard about the fire or just heard through the grapevine. Drew and I just wanted a break, mentally and physically, so it was draining on both of us to have to keep talking about it. It got to the point, eventually, where we just tried to laugh it off because we could see how uncomfortable our friends were talking about it. No one knew what to say or do to make us feel better. Later on, we met up with my parents and Uncle to get some fish and chips. Most of our time together was spent talking about the fire. My uncle commented on how surprised he was at how well Drew and I were handling the situation, and at that point, I was surprised too. Our conversation came to a quick halt when my cousin’s friend started having a seizure. We all rushed to get medical help and then never had the opportunity to reconvene.  Drew and I headed home, to my parent’s house, for a few hours to get some rest. Later on in the evening we drove back to the festival to watch the fireworks on the lakefront. We had planned to meet up with some friends but plans fell through and we decided to watch the show alone.

Sunday, July 22 was our first wedding anniversary. Never in a million years did I ever think I’d be celebrating my first anniversary by waking up in my childhood bedroom, without a place to call mine. What a difference a year can make! My dad made us breakfast and then my parent’s asked us to pick a place that we would like to go for dinner. They were going to treat us to a dinner, along with the rest of my family. Drew and I were having a difficult time making a decision, probably because our heads were cluttered with other things, so my sister recommended an Italian restaurant. We were both tired of worrying about it and accepted the offer. We all headed to dinner and met up with two of my sisters and their families. After dinner we all went over to Heidi’s house for a bonfire. Drew and I were not there for more than 30 minutes and I needed to leave -being around the fire made me feel anxious and upset. I don’t think anyone fully understood why my body reacted the way it did, not even me, but I knew that I had to get away from it. I believe this is the point where I started to bury my feelings. The day before I was strong and optimistic and the next day I’m falling apart. I didn’t want to show my weakness, especially not in front of Drew. We left the party and headed to the theater to see the latest Adam Sandler movie. Of course, in the movie Adam Sandler’s character played a firefighter – just my luck! I don’t think I paid too much attention, in fact, I think I was more in awe at how many people were at the movie theater so late on a Sunday night.

The following week, Drew and I spent every day cleaning out our townhouse. As the days went by things started to get easier. I still had my little meltdowns, but we were starting to feel the pressure of being out by July 31. None of our friends were there to help us and it really made me sad – I don’t think anyone ever really offered to help us. I started to wonder if they even cared about our well-being.  My parent’s and in-laws were able to help us out as much as possible, as well as our neighbors. They were all sad to see us leave and angry with how poorly we were being treated by the management company. Two of the women actually took it upon themselves to call and complain about their lack of concern and greediness.  It felt good to have someone standing up for us, but it seemed to irritate the lady I was dealing with in regards to the insurance deductible. She was never kind on the phone and the tone of her voice was almost condescending and threatening. Everyone kept telling me that she was trying to scare us into paying them, taking full advantage at how naïve she thought we were. She never believed me when I would tell her that we had sought out legal advice. It was not until my cousin contacted the woman directly that the phone calls stopped. I never heard from her, or the management company, again.

Drew and I were officially out of our townhouse on July 30. We handed in our keys to the on-site apartment manager and thought we would be able to leave quickly. Little did we know that she would have so much to share with us. As an extremely spiritual person, she told us how much she had been praying for our well-being and how she had requested for us to be in her congregation’s prayers. She was visibly upset that we were moving out, for good, and kept repeating how we were such good tenants. This was the first time that someone, outside of our family, had expressed their sadness for us and our situation. I couldn’t hold it in anymore and started to cry. I was so tired of crying, but I could not stop myself.

On the Tuesday, following the fire, I went back to work for the first time since I had rushed out. All of my co-workers were so supportive. One in particular, Stacy, was there for me immediately. She came into my office to see how things were going – since the last time we had talked was the night of the fire. Again, I couldn’t go into much detail because it was choking me up. I cried and then felt embarrassed that I couldn’t remain professional at work. Stacy shut the door to my office and just sat there with me. She didn’t say anything, I don’t know that she knew what to say, but I felt safe having her there with me. She was a witness to it all and then helped me pull myself back together. Later that afternoon, everyone gathered in my co-worker, William’s, office to present me with about three large boxes filled with things that everyone from around the Stritch campus had donated to me and Drew. A whole dish set, silverware, oven mitts, a wine rack, a recipe box, coffee glasses and other knick knacks. After the fire, Stacy had sent out an email to the entire Stritch community to request donations for us. Along with the donations was a card from the Staff Development Committee with a gift card, to Kohl’s, for $50. Again, I cried…only this time it was in front of all of my co-workers and not in the privacy of my office.

The weeks following the fire were overwhelming and stressful. I began to feel distant from Drew which frustrated me because of how new our marriage was. We both had our own ways of coping with the trauma. He would meet up with his friend, Bill, after work and go hunting until it was dark out. I would go straight to my parent’s house after work, have dinner with them and then lounge around. I felt safe being at “home” again. Nothing bad ever happened to me in the 22 years that I lived with them.

Towards the middle of August, I could tell that Drew was starting to feel ashamed that we were living with my parents. He wanted to pick up the pieces and move on with life. We started apartment hunting after work and over the weekends but nothing ever felt like the right fit for us. Eventually we saw an ad in the paper for an apartment that was looking for a low rent payment, water included and only a six month lease. We decided to go for it and figured that if we hated it, we were only stuck for six months and not a year. Drew toured the apartment while I was at work, since he got off earlier than me. He called me and described how awesome it was. I met up with him that night to take a look. The pros were that  it was large enough to hold all of our belongings, it was affordable, and it had lots of windows (something I like). The cons were that there was no central a/c, it was above a fairly popular bar, there were no designated parking spots, it was the second story and it was in a brick building. After having just gone through a fire, a brick building was the last place I wanted to live. If there was another fire, God forbid, the apartment would become an oven.  I expressed my concerns to Drew but he managed to talk me into signing a lease. That night, I had a nightmare that we were trapped inside of the burning brick building. I chose to keep the nightmare to myself because I didn’t want to upset Drew. I also felt guilty for being so scared, because again, I was not the one who was in the fire at the townhouse. I felt foolish for being so paranoid.

There were a few mornings, on my way to work, that I had panic attacks.  I had never felt that before and was surprised with how much it consumed my entire body and state of mind. I couldn’t focus on anything and questioned why I ever thought I was ok to even drive. It was as if I was drunk on fear of all the “what if’s. “ Some days I would turn around and head back to my parent’s house. I hated having to call into work, but I didn’t know what else to do. Other days, I would fight through it and get to work but as I was parking my car, I would wonder how I ever made it. I could not remember driving; I was lost in a daze.

Drew and I immediately started moving everything into our new apartment the following weekend. Again, no one offered to help us out except for our immediate family. In fact, two of our friends were moving that weekend and everyone decided to help them out instead because they were being treated to pizza and beer afterwards. I was disgusted and angry, but I think that worked to my advantage because my adrenaline helped me carry the heavy items up the steep flight of stairs. Almost everything was moved in one day but it took me almost two months to officially move in. With Drew not knowing about my nightmare, he didn’t understand why I kept finding reasons to continue living with my parents. This led to numerous arguments, but I still felt the need to keep everything to myself. I thought that if he knew what was really stopping me, I would never hear the end of it.

At the end of September, my parents decided to get more involved with what was going on. They could see, and probably feel, the tension between Drew and me. I’m sure they were getting annoyed with having two extra people in the house, after having just adjusted to becoming empty-nesters. My mom had politely suggested that Drew and I start living in our apartment. I lost it. I had the type of melt down that a toddler has when their parent won’t buy them a toy at the store. Looking back, it’s humiliating to know that I acted that way. It the middle of all of that, I finally admitted why I had been procrastinating to move out. I told them all about my nightmare, how real it felt, how scared I was – and they gave me no sympathy. Not my mom, dad or Drew. I wasn’t looking for someone to feel sorry for me, but I was stunned that they didn’t get it. Why weren’t they scared like me? That afternoon, I packed up what was left at my parent’s house (mostly clothes and other daily necessities) and begrudgingly moved into our apartment. I didn’t talk to my parents for two days. I was mad. How dare they kick me out like that! I wasn’t ready; at least I didn’t feel ready. I needed my security blanket and they stripped it away from me. Drew gave me my space and I returned the favor by giving him an attitude. Our new apartment was quiet, except for the sounds from the bar below us. We turned up our music and started putting everything in its place.

A few weeks later, we decided to throw a Halloween party with all of our friends. I had gotten over my anger towards them for not helping us out and was looking for a good time. Everyone had a lot of fun, no one mentioned the fire and from that point on I thought everything would be ok.

November 2007 – Present

Things were going well for us. We picked up our house hunt again after having taken a break since the fire. I was excited to be looking at listings and daydream about our future. After going back and forth a few times, Drew and I decided to write an offer for a little house in Random Lake, my hometown. I never thought I would ever move back to my hometown but after the fire, I realized how safe I felt there. The day after Thanksgiving we wrote our offer and then went about our day to run errand. Two hours after meeting with the realtor, we got a phone call saying that our offer had been accepted. We were so excited!

December was filled with preparing for yet another move. My mom graduated with her second Master’s degree and I hosted a party for her so that everyone could see our apartment before we moved out. On December 23^rd, Drew got his puppy that he had wanted since the day we had started looking at houses. Tonka, our black lab/German short hair mix, joined our family and Bella wasn’t too thrilled. For Christmas that year, we got a bunch of Home Depot gift cards for our new home. For New Year’s Eve, we went to dinner with some friends at Applebee’s and then headed to a party that our friends, Joel and Ali, hosted every year. Two hours into the party, Drew got sick and decided to head home. He told me to stay at the party and have fun, so I did, hoping that he would feel better and come back before midnight. At 11:30, I realized that Drew probably wasn’t going to make it back and I got really sad. The second half of 2007 had been so hard on us; it was just so ironic that New Year’s Eve had turned into a disaster. I was upset, but felt a huge weight lifted off my shoulders when 2008 rolled around. It was a fresh start. 2008 was going to be a GREAT year. I got home at 3am, after celebrating the holiday with friends and walked in to Drew lying on the floor in the bathroom. He looked terrible and the whole apartment smelled bad. With the little energy he had left, he told me that he couldn’t even remember how many times he had thrown up and that he couldn’t hold anything down – not even water.

The next morning, on New Year’s Day, Drew was still throwing up. He had not gone to the bathroom and he had not eaten anything. I got scared and called the doctor and he told me to take Drew to the hospital right away to get some fluids pumped into his system. He was admitted right away and ultimately diagnosed with food poisoning. I was relieved that it was nothing too serious but sad that we were starting off the new year in the ER. Two bags of fluid later and Drew was discharged.

On the morning of January 31, 2008 we closed on our very first home. All was good in the world. Our nights and weekends were now consumed with DIY projects. Finally, my life was filled with GOOD stress. Everything was under control. As the snow started to melt, we started to spend more time outside and finally got to meet our neighbors. Just like me, they were both hometown natives. I was thrilled to see that I actually knew them because they were only 5-7 years older and as a middle schooler, I remembered seeing them in the high school and at sporting events. Life was swell and meeting the neighbors solidified that for me.

In August 2008, Drew decided that after six years of doing masonry he was ready for a change. His step-dad got him a job as a Machine Shop Helper. The only opening was on third shift, but I learned to adjust to the new schedule. I was just happy that Drew was happy and learning new skills while also making more money.

On Sunday, October 19^th Drew and I were having a lazy day. We had gone out the night before with some friends so we were both tired. We spent the day watching football and lounging on the couch. Drew and I had silenced our cell phones the night before so that we could sleep in but had forgotten to turn the volume back up when we woke up. As Drew was preparing for work, he finally noticed that our phones were silenced and that we had both missed a bunch of calls from my mom and sisters. Drew called my mom back and got the news that my dad was in ICU at the hospital because they thought he had a heart attack. She didn’t go into much detail, but told us to get there asap. Since Drew had to work that night, and since he was still a very new employee, he told me to go alone. So, just like I did when I got news of our fire, I had to somehow drive myself, a total wreck, all the way to the hospital with little knowledge about my dad. I remember walking, almost running, through the parking lot to get to the reception desk. When I had to tell the lady who I was looking for, I was shaking so bad that she could barely understand me. I think I had to repeat myself a few times before she fully understood me. When I got to my dad’s room, in the ICU, he was not in there and his bed was gone. My mom and my sisters were just hanging out and talking. My first thought was that my dad was gone, forever. I never had the opportunity to say good bye or to tell him that I loved him one last time. I was frozen in the doorway. My mom started approaching me and told me that everything was fine. My dad was in surgery and that he did not have a heart attack, but came very close to. I cried  – but it was tears of relief. A few hours later, my dad was wheeled back to his room. That had done a catherization and inserted a stent into one of his arteries. It was late and my mom was exhausted. I let her go home to rest and spent the night in the hospital with my dad in the most uncomfortable recliner ever. The next morning, my mom and sister, Heidi, returned. I fed my dad breakfast and then he got lectured by the surgeon, his doctor and the nutritionist about eating less fatty foods and to quit smoking. My dad is stubborn, so I don’t think he listened much. He was more concerned with arguing about how many pills they want him to take for the rest of his life. I knew then, that everything would be ok. My dad was acting like his normal self again. Also, during that morning, my sister, Romy, called my dad’s room to announce that she had taken a pregnancy test the night before and it was positive. I was so happy for her, but at the same time a bit angry that she chose to make the announcement after such a scary day and I was also a bit jealous since I wanted to be in her shoes. Since we had bought our house, I felt that starting a family was the next step but it just wasn’t working out that easily for us.

On December 18^th, 2008 Drew got notice that he was being temporarily laid off at work due to the slowing economy. He was paid through January 5^th and then started to collect unemployment. We were hopeful that the layoff was not permanent and assumed that within a few months he would be working again. So, with that state of mind, Drew did not take his job search too seriously. He liked what he was doing and figured it was a waste of time for him to apply for another job. Well, we could not have been more wrong. June was quickly approaching and Drew’s unemployment benefit was quickly coming to an end. At the last minute he started to scramble for a job. Luckily, his friend had just started a new job with his uncle’s company and he was looking for more help. Drew was hired a few days later and began his new venture mid-June.

Over the six months that Drew was unemployed, my stress level increased at a very rapid rate. Bills could not get paid, or were paid late. I was in fear that everything we had worked so hard for was again at risk of being taken away from us by something that was once again out of our control. I also had an underlying fear of something traumatic happening at home again because Drew was home every single day. I think I started to resent him. I was mad that I had to get up every day and go to work and he could do whatever he wanted. He didn’t help out around the house as much as I would have liked him to and I frequently came home after a long day to a cluttered house and dirty dishes. On top of all that, Drew’s attitude started to change. It was a huge blow to his ego to once again not be able to take care of his family (me and the pets).  We argued a lot which added even more to my stress level. I was not sleeping well and would wake up some mornings feeling groggier than normal and extremely confused. It took a few minutes for me to figure out where I was.

I finally went to the doctor to get checked out because I was scared that something was seriously wrong with me. The blood test results indicated that I had Vitamin D deficiency so I started taking supplements. My follow-up appointment was three months later in September and I had more blood work done. Everything came back normal and that’s when the doctor labeled me with PTSD. As soon as those words came out of his mouth, I knew it. I had known all along that the fire was my biggest issue. The doctor was going to prescribe me Cymbalta, even though I told him I would not take any drugs for mental health. I suggested seeing a psychologist and he agreed.

Here I am. I am ready to face this head on. I am no longer going to waste my energy burying my fears – it’s time to move on with my life.

“We must be willing to let go of the life we planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” - E.M. Forster

Tags: Fire, house fire, post traumatic stress disorder, PTSD, summer 2007, therapy

The 30 Day Shred: Days 1-10

Day 1 @ Level 1 (2.14.10)
Not as bad as I thought it would be. The twenty minutes went by quickly. The workout energized me and also put me in a state of shock. I used to whip out push-ups like a champ and now I struggle to do one.

Day 2 @ Level 1 (2.15.10)
I woke up sore this morning and it caught me by surprise. My legs feel like Jell-O. I really didn’t think I worked that hard!

Day 3 @ Level 1 (2.16.10)
Still in pain…I can barely go down the stairs without feeling like my legs are about to give out. I seriously considered skipping out on my workout and just going for a walk, in fear that I might hurt myself. My husband politely reminded me that it’s called the 30 Day Shred for a reason, so I went for it. I had more stamina today than I did on Day 1. Afterwards, I was more deliberate about stretching, especially my legs.

Day 4 @ Level 1 (2.17.10)
Yay! I got out of bed this morning feeling great! My legs are still sore but no where near as bad as they did the last two days. I’m starting to feel different. My mom commented that my face looks like it’s starting to thin out – I know she’ll always be brutally honest. My workout went well. I still can’t do a normal push up but I’m not letting it discourage me.

Day 5 @ Level 1 (2.18.10)
Woke up, again, feeling good. My energy level has spiked and my mood is cheerful. I considered bumping myself up to Level 2 today but talked myself into continuing with Level 1 until day 11. I feel the need to be more challenged right now, but if I over do it I might get discouraged. By the time I got home from work I was exhausted, like ready for bed by 6 pm, but i fought threw it and completed day 5. I felt great for not making excuses and slept like a rock.

Day 6 @ Level 1 (2.19.10)
Today I wore some pants to work that I try to avoid. I hate the way they look on me and I really hate how they feel. Since I’m feeling some changes from the workout I thought I’d give them a shot. Regardless of how they looked, I knew it would give me a boost of motivation. To my surprise, they looked and felt ok - still room for improvement – but a lot better than they did a few weeks ago. Workout went. I noticed a popping noise in my right ankle during the jumping jacks, but there is no pain. I’ve always had ankle problems so I’m not too worried about it.

Day 7 @ Level 2 (2.20.10)
What can I say? I promised myself to stay with Level 1 for the first ten days and today I went up to Level 2. In addition to the 30 Day Shred, I’m also using Weight Watchers to change my eating habits. I really screwed up on Friday night and today so I guess I was just feeling guilty. Jillian kicked my arse! For the first time ever, I was screaming at the tv. My shoulders were on fire but I was able to keep up. I’ll definitely finish out Level 1 for the next three days and know what I have to prepare myself for with Level 2.

Day 8 @ Level 1 (2.21.10)
One week down and I’ve lost two pounds! I’m beyond happy! I knew I was starting to feel some changes and the scale has confirmed that. I went back to Level 1 today and got my workout done right away in the morning, as opposed to later in the evening. My loss definitely made me push a little harder today. I want to see another decrease next week!

Day 9 @ Level 1 (2.22.10)
I wasn’t feeling well today. Just plain tired and had a sore throat. I wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower and go to bed after work. Since my workout has created an entirely new routine for me I knew I would be upset with myself if I didn’t do it. I pushed through but my stamina was lacking. Afterwards I felt good, still tired, but happy that I didn’t give up. Last day of Level 1 is tomorrow and I have to admit that I’m a little scared for Level 2.

Day 10 @ Level 1 (2.23.10)
My knee started to bother me during my workout yesterday and today it’s still a little sore. Not sure what I did – feels like I might have twisted it. I was really hoping to push myself harder in today’s workout, in anticipation for Level 2, but I’ll have to take it easy. I’ve noticed that I’m not looking as bloated anymore. My clothes are necessarily looser on me, but they’re fitting a lot better. On to Level 2 tomorrow…oh boy!

Tags: 30 Day Shred, getting back in shape, Jillian Michels, work out

My angel

My beloved grandma was only part of my life, on earth, for nine short years before she passed away. Nine years was not nearly enough time but she left a huge imprint on my heart. I know she watches over me every day because I can feel her presence. Today would have been her 106th birthday.

Nikki, Grandma and I - 1985

Happy Birthday Grandma. I hope everyone throws you a big party in heaven – filled with Armenian treats and pink roses.

Tags: Angel, Armenian, Birthday, Grandma, Guardian Angel