“Fall seven times and stand up eight.” ~ Japanese Proverb

 

Below is an example of the notifications I get every so often from my online journal that I have been keeping since January 27, 2012.  Most of the time I delete these. Every so often I go back and read and review what I've written as I'm prompted to by these, sometimes painful, reminders.

Eight wishes were listed on my self-indulgent, painfully truthful, (formerly) private journal entry. Eight months ago was April 28. Eight months ago I was four weeks into my man-ban. Eight months ago I was exhausted and feeling self-defeated. Eight months ago I was homeschooling my son. Eight months ago I had the burden of an incontinent, paralyzed foster dog in our 900 square foot home who required constant care and clean up. Eight months ago I felt trapped by my circumstances.

Let's not analyze my spelling, punctuation and grammar. When I write in private it is through a steam of consciousness. Insecure much Julie?

Coincidentally there are eight goals divulged in this journal entry which if I'd thought I'd be receiving a reminder I might have worked harder to accomplish a goal a month and I'd be writing a different blog post today. Ironically, one of them came to fruition in an unexpected way which brings fresh tears to my eyes about the sudden loss of our long-term foster dog.  I made the very deliberate and conscious choice to care-take this dog as I do not rid myself of dogs without deep thought and consideration for their needs; she was happy, relatively, but she was a daily burden.  I don't regret writing what I did because it was my truth. I questioned my decision to keep her in my home as a mother. I questioned that decision every day she was in my care and the sacrifices our family made in order to keep her with us.  That decision was made for me on December 16th as she passed away surrounded by me and my boys, knowing she was loved and left this earth feeling wanted til her last breath. Rest in peace now Sally.

I can barely muster up the feelings I had back then of being overwhelmed with the burden of being mother, teacher, tutor and advocate for my son. Shortly after this journal entry was written I began the process of assessment and testing through the school district in the form of an IEP meeting to determine the best course of action for my son's education. The results of those tests came back to show that I had a "healthy, normal, bright and busy ten year old" on my hands. But my sanity was stretched to its limits. My patience tested daily. My self-esteem dropping with the desire for him to have a "normal" childhood and questioning if I were the person to provide that for him. All the test results proved he was not only fine but thriving and the tests came with the back-up of the school district indicating that I was "doing a great job."  Little did I know, in the 11th hour, that a friend would give me a shove in the right direction and my bright boy with a fleeting attention span would not only enter the public school system, being enrolled the night before after interviewing this "incredible teacher" but that he would thrive in his classroom; a classroom that is currently ranked at the "top of the district for excellence in achievement." My boy that would cry, moan and struggle to write a five sentence paragraph for me is now writing a page and a half each day in his journal without a single reminder.

The alone time that I would force myself to become quite comfortable from my decision to ban men from my life would provide me with the tools I needed to re-enter the dating scene. My analysis of the fact that the man I was searching for might not come in the package that I expected. The decision to change my habits and accept all offers with men I might not have given a second thought to prior to my man-ban.  No one could have convinced me that I would find someone who did, in fact, have all the things I adored about my ex-husband. No one could have convinced me that I could experience passion, romance, and commitment with someone who wasn't a sociopath. No one could convince me that I deserved all that I am offered today with an HONEST, kind, patient and genuine man. I knew I couldn't nor wouldn't settle again and held firm for amazing. I had no idea it was just a few months ahead of me eight months ago. I had no idea he actually existed.

Three out of eight.  Three goals accomplished in eight months. 37.5% - I'm used to getting better grades than that. 

When you get to be my age and something you've been complimented on your entire life isn't perfect anymore it's difficult to share it.  Call it maturity or growing up but I've chosen to smile more recently despite not having the ability to conquer the goal of fixing my teeth; 2000 dollars into this 10,000 dollar project, I have to accept that I can only do so much and smile anyway.

I might not be able to give these kids what they "want" as far as material things, but I am confident that I am giving them what they need which ultimately, when looking back on their lives, will transpire into exactly what they wanted.

I am still not truly self-reliant but I am still a bit stubborn. I'm fine if there are no-zero-zilch extra expenses meaning anything above and beyond my $19.32 per week that is not assigned to some household expense.  But I will not discount the fact that since this journal entry I have paid off both my daughter's braces and my court divorce fees. I am debt free but far from the goal of being able to give 100% of the child support I receive in bi-weekly installments to my children but they do have food in their bellies, a warm roof over their heads, shoes on their feet, clothes on their bodies. In this eight month period I did take a job that doubled my income but my decision to quit that job after a three-month trial and discovery that it did not fit the job description I was pitched, that I actually have made the choice in the company I keep. Knock that up to 50% - I've never gotten an F before...

In a sense, I do get paid to write. I write PSAs, I draft public statements on current issues for my boss, I write clever Facebook posts, I create ad campaigns, I write content copy, I write letters of advocacy. I am paid to write, just not the type of writing my soul needs to get out there.  62.5% - I'm up to a D minus.

"The only person you are destined to become is the person you decide to be." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

I'm staring out into the night, trying to hide the pain  
I'm going to the place where love  
And feeling good don't ever cost a thing  
And the pain you feel's a different kind of pain
...
I'm not running from, no, I think you got me all wrong  
I don't regret this life I chose for me