Feelings aren't Facts.

*Disclaimer – this was written almost a month ago.  I just wasn’t sure if I wanted to post it or not.  But, today – I thought someone could benefit from it.*

I hope this helps someone today.

Too much to get into all the details – but today – I felt unappreciated.  It’s one of those things where it was weighing on my mind and heart.  Where you feel your heart, like are actually aware of the organ in your chest.  Swallowing seemed difficult.  And I felt like the weight of the world on my shoulders and wanted to cry.  

And then,  it hit me.  I am doing what I can.  And I don’t need the outside approval of others to confirm that for myself.  So many people are focused on being  perfect, rich, smartest, best, number one, etc – and I felt like, here I am – trying to make my tribe (and all those related to it) feel  loved and valued.  While trying to productive, perfect, make money, have the best numbers, look pretty, and be noticed and successful. And I don’t feel like anyone cares or appreciates it.  And yes - I just admitted - I care about all the things that I said others focus on.  I am not judging.  I am just saying, I also try to add value and love to those I interact with first.

It hit me.  Stop focusing on feeling bad.  Focus on the fact that you are alive and happy.  Realize that not everyone is always going to behave the way you want them to.  And just because they don’t – doesn’t mean that they don’t care.  It just means – that they might be going through their own stuff.  They might not feel like they need to acknowledge it.  And honestly, why do I expect acknowledgement?  Shouldn’t I be doing it – because I mean it, I love them, and I want the best for them - with no level of expectation back? 

Absolutely.  Sometimes, things can get so overwhelming for me – I feel like I can’t breathe.  I have worn my emotions on my sleeve for years – but one day, I started choking them down.  And just because I choke them down – doesn’t mean that they aren’t there.  They just aren’t seen as visibly to everyone.    So, to everyone who tells me how strong I am – thank you.  But the only real strength I have, is being able to hide my feelings from most people.  

Here is real talk.  I am not that strong.  I am actually pretty weak.  I have basic needs.  I need to be loved.   Valued.  And appreciated.  I get lonely.  I get sad.  I get scared.  I get overwhelmed.  And all of that can happen in under thirty seconds!  Where I feel weaker – is the fact that I struggle with admitting that I am human.  There is a total of about 3 people on this planet who know that part of me.  I am grateful for them - because without them - I'd probably lose my mind.   I don’t admit it often.  But today, I thought – let it rip.  Someone needs to know it’s okay to be human, too.   But while we are being human – let’s extend some grace to our loved ones and let them be human, also. 

Because let's be honest - our feelings aren't facts.

Xoxo.

Kristie

Yes, as of 9:44 PM - I have 5,441 photos on my camera roll.

It's funny, in a an absurd type of way - but it's true.  I bought an iPhone 6 plus, one year ago.  It's the one with 128 mb.  And you want to know why I bought it? Because the level of storage for photos was so high.  I have two obsessions.  One is music, the other is photos.  An iPhone - well provides both.  That is, as long as you have the memory for it.  So when it came out - I was on it.  There was nothing I hated more, than getting ready to take a picture, and my phone stop me.  The phone would tell me, I needed to delete a picture to take another picture.  Did this phone know what it was asking me to do?  How do I delete a moment, to create another?  What if I didn't save it?  Needless to say, it was drove me nuts.  And you want me to delete a song?  No.  'Nuff said.

I had a conversation with one of my bosses this week, about iPhone Vs. Android.  He asked me why I loved the iPhone, although he has one.  I told him the above.  And he said, "You really take that many pictures?".  Yes, I do.

So this weekend, I looked through them.  And didn't delete any.  But I did notice this. Photos tell such a story, that we might not remember.  Photos tell the truth.  They show happiness, sadness, and absence.  They capture moments that we forget.  They an often show how you feel, even when you didn't realize you felt that way.  I saw a photo of me and Jacoby - and he was squeezing my neck, from behind.  I remember, that I felt so thankful.  In that moment - I felt teary.  And I posted it on Facebook and Instagram - and no one knew I was teary in the picture.  But I remembered when I saw it.  After everything I have been through - I was thankful.  And completely at peace with those little hands around my neck.  I was okay with the hand I had been given.  Because, although it was a horrible road - God got me to where I am at today.

Photographs can show you things you can't see through your own eyes.  Maybe you can't see how beautiful you are.  How great you look when you laugh.  Sometimes, Looking at a photo - can tell you more than you thought you ever knew.  So, keep your photos.  Save them - and let's be a little different.  Print some out - hang them on your wall.  Keep your amazing moments in your foreground.  I posted a quote a few months back on Facebook, I believe, and it said, "Photographs seems unimportant, until that's all you have left."  For some parts of my life, photographs are the only proof it existed.  But for now, in my current life, photographs show me how lucky I am.

Have a great night.  Xoxo.

Let brotherly love continue.  Hebrews 13:1

Let's talk about being Naked in Urban Decay....

That sounded quite philosophical in it's own right didn't it?  The decay of the nation... our horrible society... blah blah blah.  But what I am really writing about - is me.  My face.  Who I am.  A lot of you guys have known me for years.  Some of you - recently.  Some of you - have never met me.  But let me give you a little background.

Fifteen years ago - I was a completely different person.  I didn't wear makeup.  I didn't have a "hair style" per se.  I was overweight.  And frankly,  I felt like I didn't deserve any better.  Now - that being said, I wasn't some depressed, emo, sad sack type of person.  I was kinda factual.  I had become overweight - so there was no point in buying flattering clothes - because I thought I would never look good in them anyway.  I didn't wear makeup - same reason.  Hair - same reason.  I was just super duper plain.

Fast forward a few years - I met a girl who become my best friend ever.  She kinda had an intervention with me.  She told me to get my own sweats - and quit wearing my husbands.  She took me out and got me first "cutesy" sweatsuit.  And I say sweatsuit, because there was no way I would wear anything but that.  And guess what?  I had a shape - some might call "hourglass".  It might have been a yearly hourglass - but hourglass, nonetheless.

Fast forward again.  I lost the weight.  Started getting into clothes.  Was much more confident.  I began working out.  I was more active.  I had great people in my life.  I was happy.  And then... we all know what happened.  I went to bed blissfully happy.  I woke up in a nightmare that I thought would never end.

There was a lot of self reflection that happened over that next year.  First,  I really embraced the aspect of "you only live once."  I don't mean that in a reckless way - I mean it in a - seize the day, type of way.   I always loved edgy clothes, hair, makeup, all of it.  Whether I looked like it or not - I always got Cosmo - was intrigued by fashion shows... I loved it - but was embarrassed to love it because I felt like people would think... "Ummmm.... really?  She doesn't look like it... "  And, in turn - I would be made fun of.

Guess what?  Make fun of me.   Don't like my clothes?  I do.  Don't like my makeup?  I do.  Don't like my accent?  I do.  Don't like my tattoos? I do.  Don't like my Jeep? Then we can't talk.  I kid.  But, you get what I'm saying.

I feel like through my outward appearance:
1.  I am showing my resilience... because I have a lot of it.  I am a fighter.  I believe life can never defeat me - unless I allow it.  No outcome of any situation will control me.  I am tough.
2.  I am happy.  Not to sound like Pharrell... But I really am.  I mean, my life is far from perfect.  But I am really, and truly deep down happy.

I want my outside to match the insides...And I do that through makeup and clothes.  It's my thing.  I don't see any problems with my face without it.  I just like it.  It's like creating a painting - on yourself. :-)

So -- here's a video of the whole process.... Sped up.  If you have any questions... Let me know.   Hope you enjoy - And get a little more of who I am !

BREAKING NEWS!!!!! I am a crap magnet!

Now, I know that mommy just cringed when she read that title.  So first - Mommy, I apologize.  Publicly.  But - I am a poop magnet just didn't seem to be much of an attention getter.  But this is important - so I feel that it's important to catch some attention.  Over the past two weeks, I have done a lot of soul searching.  And for anyone who has ever done that - it is absolutely brutal.  I'd like to say that it's a beautiful and awakening experience, but fact of the matter - it blows.  And here is what I discovered.  I am a crap magnet.  And why?  Because I have been a negative, disobedient, and self serving Christian.  And not a very good Christian at that.

We all know - that for some time - I have talked about how I knew my calling was to write.  And I needed to write to get a message out.  Well guess what kiddos!?  Now forgive me for sounding like the old, southern, Christian Grandma - but when you know what you are supposed to do - the devil is gonna try to stop you.  And that he did.  And here is what is so shocking to me.  Well, first - I let him, to an extent.  Second, how he did it.  But since they are rolled into one - here is the story.

And before I say anything- let me state that this is my issue.  Not the company that I work for, nor the people I work with.  But I do have a difficult job, to an extent.  As I am sure that we all do.  I deal with people in a really bad moment of their lives - wrecked cars.  Ninety-five percent of the people I deal with, have had something bad happen to either their first of second largest investment.  And my job is to make sure their cars gets fixed correctly, in a timely fashion, or total them.  Frankly - all of them are hard for folks - just as it would be for me.  But, here's the kicker - I need them to LOVE me.  Not like me - LOVE me.  And for the most part they do.  Which is great, right?  I am a hard worker.  I love my customers.  I love the people I work with.  So what's the problem?

The problem is that it became an obsession for me.  I wanted to be the best.  I wanted the approval of all my customers.  I wanted to be the best adjuster.  Not because it was the right thing, because I wanted to be the best.  And then here is the kicker.  I let everything else go to the wayside.  I stopped writing my book.  Why? Because I was bitter.  I was angry.  I was sick of people being mad over a car - but acting like I cared.  I have that feeling often, of this - "You think that a wrecked car is bad?  I don't care that it has 11 miles on it.  I found my husband dead in a bathroom floor.  This car isn't a problem.  It's a hiccup."  But, in the sugary sweet voice, I tried my best to care - deep down.  But guess what - I didn't.

Don't get me wrong - I do want to make the process easy for people.  But then I want to make my bosses proud.  I want to get great numbers.  And I obsessed about it all.  I didn't go to work, and put in a good day's work, doing the right thing, and then go home.  I worked 60 hours a week.  I worked at work.  At home.  Driving to and from work.  I talked about it all the time.  And it made me bitter.  So, I became a crap magnet.

I read this weekend, that you when you complain - you become a crap magnet.  I complained.  About my stress.  My customers.  My bosses.  Their expectations.  The whole nine - so guess what?  I got a lot of complaints back.  Because misery loves company.  And when you start complaining to folks - they do it back.  So not only am I carrying my junk around - I am carrying theirs too.  So - as of yesterday - that's all done.  No more complaining.  I am planning on my exit to pursue what I love and know I need to do.  I am gonna blog more. Focus on my book.  Get it done  - It's 80% done anyway.  I am gonna be happy - change my attitude - and no longer be crap magnet.

Never Surrender. Yep, I am gonna quote Tupac.

May 2nd would have been Shaun's 33rd birthday.  My heart always feels heavy when I hear the word, May. Anyone who knew Shaun, knew he loved his birthday.  Another reason we were a great pair.  We loved our own birthdays.  It's like your own little personal holiday.  Started the day with breakfast in bed - or restaurant of his choice (depending on his mood).  Then we would go and get his birthday present.  Followed up with a family dinner out - and normally friends coming over that evening.  He loved his birthday.  So, every year - on his birthday - my heart feels heavy.  Sad for him.  Sad for the loss of him.  Sad for everyone that knew him.  Sad for me.  And it's a weird feeling - being sad.  There is a level of guilt that comes with that sadness once you have continued with your life.  And thankfully - my husband is a rockstar.  He gets it.  He knows that just because I am sad for Shaun- doesn't mean I love him less.  It's a situation that  I never thought I would be in.  And I am still stumbling through it.

This was the worst year so far.  On Thursday, May 1st, my sister-in-law and I were at a Charity event with some friends.  The salads had just been served when I noticed her take a phone call and walk out.  She comes back in literally about 4 seconds later - and says, "I need you - come on."  So I got up and left.  We walk away and go to the restroom area - and she turns with her eyes welled up with tears and tells me, "David is dead."  And something bizarre happened to me.  My insides felt like they were turning to stone.  David, is my brother-in-law.  My husband's brother.  I had never met him.  But, there was an unfortunate accident where he was living, and it was completely unexpected.  We know we are going to have to tell our husbands, but we don't know how.  Finally we call - and get everyone to the house.  And by this time - my insides were completely solid.

My husband's youngest brother - he is a fixer.  And so he was on it.  My husband - was in total shock.  And all I knew to do was hug him - and let him cry.  And then try to figure out the logistics.  Make sense of it all.  Research it all.  And then do whatever needed to be done.  I knew my job was to be the one who when someone says, "Go get a chicken and taco sauce, "  - I am gonna be the girl who gets it don't ask why.  I never realized how much those people helped me until after the fact.  But inside - I was stone.

Until Friday.  Shauns' birthday.  At about 10 o'clock.  I went to work that day.  Due to catastropic events in the panhandle - our team at work was short - so I needed to go in and finish some stuff.  Especially, not knowing what the next week was going to hold.  I walk out into the tow yard, and I am staring at a car.  And I hear one of the people walk up behind me - but I refuse to look at them.  He says, "You ok?" - and my insides began to shake and melt.  And tears started pouring.  And I began to ugly cry.  Shaking all over ugly cry.  And he looked shocked - but shut up and hugged me.  And let me cry.  And never questioned why.  I thought, "Why am I crying like an idiot?  It wasn't my brother - and I didn't know him.  Don't be the dramatic person, who is all overwrought.  Buck up girl, and handle it."  So I did.  But I was still confused as to my hugely emotional outbreak.

So for the past 2 days, I have also tried to figure that out.  Because after my 4 minute breakdown - I was solid again.  So I started writing down the random thoughts in my head - and here is what I came up with.  My heart was broken.  Broken for my husband.  My brother in law's.  My sisters in law.  My nieces and nephews.  I might not have known him personally - but my heart was broken for all the people I do love.  That I do know.  I know, all to well, the pain that they are going through and that they will go through.  I know how much their world is rocked.  I know their lives have a new dividing point - Before David died and After David died.

So, I wanted to buy them a book.  A sweet friend of mine gave me the book, "Tear Soup", when Shaun died.  It's a children's book - but it was exactly what I needed.  But, I thought, maybe there is something more appropriate for grown men losing a sibling.  There is not.  There are more books about losing a pet than there are about a sibling.  And then I cried again.  Two reasons this time.  And I finally figured out why.  
1.  I cannot imagine losing my sister.  I have had her my whole life.  And even thought we live super far away - there is a level of comfort of knowing she is there.

2.  This - the here and now - is their new normal.  And it sucks.  And it 's painful.  And it will get better - but it will never go away.

And here is something to think about - there is nothing out there for siblings.  And that shocks me.  Your siblings are the people that are supposed to be with you through everything.  All the hardtimes.  Your parents are not supposed to outlive your siblings.  It doesn't seem natural.  You prep yourself for the fact that your parents and grandparents will die one day.  Not your brother or sister.  Your siblings have been there for all you successes and failures.  They have seen you at your best and your worst.  You tell your deepest secrets to you them - and even if you don't tell - they know it anyway.

"Death is not the greatest loss in life.  The greatest loss in what dies inside while still alive. Never Surrender." - Tupac.   And I believe he nailed it.  Everytime you lose someone - and piece of you dies inside. That is the biggest loss of all.

And the loss of your sibling will remain with you the rest of their lives - just like they were supposed to.

Fly, Raven, Fly...

So, just to start this off... It's probably obvious that I have done quite a bit of thinking this week.  This goes hand in hand with quite a bit of crying.  I can't seem to do one, without the other following suit.  But,  one thing that I keep thinking about is how drastically my life has changed.  I see people walking around - doing their normal.. and I am envious.  I remember June 23rd like a horrible nightmare.  I feel that moment of panic - and remember how it turned into intense pain.  Pain like I have never known.  I cried until my voice no longer sounded like myself.  (I have a Tennessee accent - my friends told me that I completely lost it in that time frame.) I felt like my world came crashing down... And then a few days later, I am left to sift through the ruins of what was once my life.  But I am still living.  And I didn't, and sometimes still don't, know how to do just that.  I know it seems simple, breathe in and out.  Never thought that would be such a difficult task.

But for those of you who knew Shaun, he was die hard ravens fan.  Committed to the core.  Got a tattoo of them.  But the way he loved them - was intense.  He "WAS" a raven.  And he is my raven.  But I did a little research about the ravens, cause I am a research kind of girl.  And here is what PBS told me...
"Long recognized as one of the most intelligent birds, the raven also has a less than savory image throughout history as a scavenger that does not discriminate between humans and animals.  Ingenious and versatile, ravens are members of the crow family, which includes jays and magpies. They are found everywhere in the northern hemisphere and adapt to very different terrain, from deserts to mountains — a feat requiring high intelligence." 
That's the main idea.. but then I realize how true a raven Shaun was.  He was brilliant.  And he made people nervous sometimes.  He was big, tall, tattooed, and had a deep voice.  He was bald and fierce looking - and beautiful.  He could adapt anywhere he went.  He was open-minded.  And would figure out how to make the best of any dire situation.  And although I know that he would be broken hearted in this situation, he would fly.  Because that's who he was.


So, I have to do the same.  I have to cling to the idea of what would he do in this situation.  He would stay focused on God, the kids, and whatever it was the he needed to do to make sure they were okay.  He would be on  his knees begging God for answers - and clinging to everyone that he got.  And I am going to let  him lead now.  Just like he always did.  I am going to do exactly what he would do.  I am going to do what he would tell me to do.  And he would cry, and would be sad, and would struggle.  But he would be okay in the end. 


So here is my prayer. God please help me - help me fly like he would - I am waiting to be rescued from this pain and grief - I cling to your promises - Help ease my pain - and help me see that my Raven is flying - and still protecting and guarding my heart.    


So, Shaun, Fly - my Raven - Fly.... And one day I will get to fly alongside you... but maybe I will be an Eagle... (That part is kinda funny if you know us - He was a Baltimore Ravens Fan - I am a Philadelphia Eagles fan...).