This Is Not What I Expected

Should the Lord allow (and the Orange Ogre in the Oval doesn't get us all killed) I will be FIFTY in a couple of weeks. 50. 5 times 10. Half a century. Wow. 😮

Since I know that no one will probably ever read this, I am going to keep it 100. I honestly never thought I would see 50. For real. I have made some seriously idiotic choices and taken chances that could have very easily lead to my ultimate demise. A huge part of me died when my father passed away and very unexpectedly thirteen years ago. I’ve never really fully recovered. Looking back now, I recognize that that event was the catalyst into my battle with anxiety, depression, and PTSD. The last three or so years have been the most difficult since that fateful day in 2006, and depression and anxiety have taken up permanent residence.

Somehow (it’s by God’s grace and mercy alone, let’s be real), I have been holding it together and kept plugging through. There have been some good moments. A few laughs here and there. A couple of good memories. But as I sit here and type this, I am quite honestly not able to remember more than five. That is sad. Five good memories in a span of 13 years. Is there any wonder why I’ve considered tapping out? Save your judgement and pity. It means nothing to me. On the off chance one of the very few people in my life is reading this and offended that I can only think of five good memories, this is not about you. Truth be told, the fact that you are offended is part of the problem.

But this? This right up and through here? I did not sign up for this. This was not in the brochure. Nah, bruh. This is not how 50 was supposed to look.

I was supposed to be married by now.

I was supposed to have children by now.

I was supposed to have a grandchild by now.

I was supposed to be financial secure by now.

I was supposed to have a modicum of success by now.

I was supposed to making retirement plans.

Sigh

But alas, this is where I am. Single. Alone. Lonely. No legacy.

Big Sigh

Still, I press. To most, this may sound like I am not grateful for the time I have been given. That could not be further from the truth. I am very grateful. Many of my contemporaries did not make it this far.  

The fact that I am still here means that God is not done with me yet. There is still something He needs me to do. There is someone I need to meet. As long as He gives me breath in my body, I’m going to keep going. Keep pressing toward the mark. Keep running the race. He has kept me through false starts, injuries, heartaches, pain, pitfalls, stumbles, and falls. And yet, I will finish my course with joy. Why? Because in the end, I STILL WIN!

So it is written, so it shall be done.

It's Been A Year But I'm Still Here

And what a year it has been.

Hey there readers. My apologies for being M.I.A. for over a year. My life has been interesting, to say the least, for these last 524 days. So much to share. Unfortunately 95% of it has been a complete and total nightmare. Where to start? I guess at the beginning, hunh?

This tragedy, (and I'm not being dramatic, total poop show ahead) began to unfold on my birthday in 2018. My maternal unit forgot my birthday. How does a person forget the anniversary of the day that they pushed out an 8 lb 5 1/2 oz bundle of awesome, especially since that bundle of awesomeness picked her up, drove her to church, and was talking about said birthday along the way? I'll tell you how. Dementia.
Yes, ladies and gents, this was the first sign of the tsunami that was about to obliterate my life. From here things started going down hill. Slowly at first, then out of nowhere, the train went off the rails quickly. She began forgetting her keys and getting locked out of the house. The neighbors, bless their hearts, were helping her get into the house and keeping her not so little secret. Unbeknownst to me, she was looking herself out on a regular basis. She actually went to the supermarket one day and left the groceries on the bus. Didn't find out about that until 5 months later. Would have helped if I had known about it when it happened, but she sweet talked the neighbors into not telling me.
Bless. Their. Hearts.
Oh look at that, it's starting to drizzle.

After I got a call for the 2nd time in 3 months that she had locked herself out again, I hid a set of keys in her wallet and told her they were there just in case. 2 weeks later, I get a call that she had locked herself out again. The neighbor across the street saw her sitting on the front steps. Just sitting there. Don't know who she was waiting for, but thank God the neighbor saw her. She took her into her house, found her cell phone in her purse, and called me at work. So glad I hid those keys in her wallet. I asked the neighbor to look in the wallet for the spare set and she let the maternal unit back into the house.That was strike three. I left the extra keys with the neighbor just in case.
Meanwhile, the eldest sibling came down to take the maternal unit to the doctor. The diagnosis was now official. She has dementia. Now here's the kicker. She had been lying for MONTHS about going to the doctor and getting her prescriptions refilled. Turns out the doctor had not seen her in 6 months. She was supposed to go every 2. Aaaargh!!!. She said she was going to the pharmacy to pick up her refills. Also a BIG FAT LIE. She hadn't had them refilled in 3 months. Double Aaaaarrrggggghhh!!!! The doctor told us that it was still early, but we, as in the siblings, would just need to call her in the morning and in the evening to check on her.
The gentle rain had now become a downpour.
She was one hell of an actress. She had stopped going to her church and would go to church with me on Saturdays. Acted perfectly normal. Held it together long enough to get through service for a good long time. But, there were more secrets. She had stopped hanging out with her best friend. Not calling anyone. If you wanted to talk to her you had to call. I would go to her house every Thursday morning to take out the trash. At first she would least have it out on the porch ready for me to take down. Then one day she apparently started to get it together and then just left it half done on the floor. The next week, she was just in bed, got nothing together at all. Already late for work (keep in mind that I work an hour and a half away), I just ran through the house, got the trash together, asked if she was OK, and kept it moving. I called when I got to work to ask her what the deal was. She just said she was tired and hadn't been sleeping well. I let it go for the moment because I had to get back to work.
On the way home I stopped through to take the recycling bucket back in. She hadn't showered and was still just sitting in bed. Something smelled funny. I check the bathroom. Oh for the love of all that is holy and righteous! The tub was a disgusting mess. The drain stopper must have fallen and she couldn't figure out how to reopen it. The water was almost to the top of the tub and it hadn't been drained in God only knows when. WTF?!?!?! Well, guess we know why she hadn't showered.
I ran over to the big box home and garden store with the orange logo, bought heavy duty cleaners, gloves, and whatnot and went back to her house to clean up the mess. It took 4 hours. I didn't get back to my place until after 11 PM.
Is that thunder I hear in the distance?
The next morning, I ran down to wake her up before I left for work and told her that she better be  up and showered when I get home. 10 hours later, I stop by. She had showered and washed her hair. She was having a moment of clarity. Finally, progress. The next day she went to church with me, still appeared to be in her right mind. Appeared being the key word. The next Friday was Good Friday and her bestie offered to pick her up and take her to church and lunch. They had a good day. Maybe the drugs are finally kicking in. False sense of security meet complete sh!t show.
Lightening! Run for cover!
Easter Sunday.We were supposed to go to 6AM service. I was outside waiting and waiting and waiting. I called. The phone rang and rang and rang. Finally she picks up. She doesn't want to go. Fine. I leave and tell her to be ready to go to her church at 1:30 PM. I call on my way to come get her. She doesn't feel like it. OK, I'm done. She needs to get out of that house and fast. All of these events were reported to the siblings. The scramble beings.
70 MPH winds.Oh boy.
The next day I call her from work to let her know that I will stop by the house on my way home. I pull up to the house and there she is getting picked up out of the bushes by the next door neighbor and another good Samaritan. She was disheveled, her wig was half on, and she was wearing the same clothes from Good Friday. Houston, we officially have a problem. I get her back in the house. Go check the fridge and her meds. She hadn't been eating or taking her prescriptions even though she had been telling us that she had when we called everyday. I brought her some food and water to her room. Watched her eat. Made sure she was settled and called the siblings. It was agreed that she was to be confined to the house until the weekend and I had to go by everyday. Thursday morning, trash duty, check on her, get her food and drink, run to work. I get a call while I'm on lunch from the eldest sibling telling me to get to the maternal units house because she had fallen. I rush home and find her sitting on the floor just picking her nails. She had wet herself and was sitting in it like nothing was wrong. Called 9-1-1. They took her to the hospital. She never got back to the house after that.
Here comes the hurricane!
She was admitted to the hospital. Tests  revealed that the she had encephalopathy or water on the brain. Her brain was drowning and  a lot of the cells were already dead. No idea where it came from but it progressed very quickly. Because of her age and declining health, putting in a stint was out of the question. She could not be left alone. She could not go back home. To the nursing home she went. At first she was local and it was under the guise of rehab. We had to scramble to get her to sign a POA before she was completely incapacitated. After two months in a nursing home in Philly, the eldest sibling found her a spot out in Chambersburg. Finally, for the first time in my adult life, I was no longer responsible for her. Or so I thought.
150 MPH winds, rain, flooding.
She had no plan. She had no money. We had to sell that piece of crap house fast. No one came to help me clean it out except for my friend Sonja. Because it required a total clean out, we only got $12.5K for it. The $5K plus that I had already paid out of my pocket for her insurance and medical bills? Yeah, that's a total loss. I had to liquidate my IRA to pay for her care. I am now in debt to the IRS over $1K in penalties. It is a year later. She has no more money The monthly fee for the nursing home is $6K. She only gets $2400 from SocSec and her pension. Do the math. Yup. We are hella screwed. She's been in the hospital 6 times in the last 12 months. Infections. A stroke. Other issues.   She can no longer walk, is talking infrequently, and on soft foods.  Fortunately, and this is going to sound bad but, she is now in hospice care. I'm praying for 'that' phone call to come sooner rather than later. She has not been herself for over a year now. She is no longer there.

So now you see why I haven't written in 524 days. I've been a little busy. My finances are a mess. The job is still and hour and a half away because the money I would have used to move is gone. And top it all off, my car is not happy. Still hella single. Gained all of my weight back because I hurt my ankle last year and never really healed. I'm also dealing with major depression and had not so positive thoughts and ideas more than a few times. I'm seriously just over this and literally sick and tired of being sick and tired.
The only reason I have hung on this long is because I am trusting God for a miracle and breakthrough. Have I had doubts? Hell yeah I have. Every single day. He knows where I am and how much I can take before I give up. Praying this will turn around. He doesn't move quickly but He can move suddenly. But until that happens, I'm still here...for now.
 

It's Really Just Another Monday

If you have read any of my prior posts (and let's be real, why would you be reading this one if you haven't?) then you know by now that I am not a proponent of most holidays. Most are ridiculous interruptions and made up to days to remember days, events, or people that quite honestly haven't earned even an hour's worth of consideration.

January 1st is high on my list of "WTF?" days. Folks make a big deal out of what is quite literally just another day. Do we celebrate the 1st of April? Or maybe June? No. So why do we give into the hype of January 1st? "Oh, but it's a fresh year, it's a new start," I call B.S.! Everyday is a fresh day and a chance for a new start. Unless you are celebrating every single day like it matters then treating January 1 any differently is just hollow.

I'll admit I wasn't always this jaded about the first of January. Truthfully, my growing apathetic view of the day could be because of my line of work. In the benefits and insurance game, at least 80% of businesses renew their benefits on the first of the year Of that 80%, darn near 75% of them wait until the last minute to get their paperwork submitted. That causes major stress for folks like me who work their behinds off to get things done in a timely fashion. And for what? No appreciation. [Parents, whatever you do, steer your kids away from the benefits industry. It is a thankless job, needlessly stressful, and makes December and January the worst months of the year. Seriously. Avoid it at all costs.] 

For all of you "New Year, New Me" people, do yourselves a favor. Start with a new day, then work your way up to a new week, new month, new quarter, then a new year. Baby steps. Biting off more than you can chew will only hinder the process. Set attainable goals. I do. I even accomplished mine for today. I actually got out of bed. Woohoo! Yay me! Tomorrow I'm going to step it up with two goals, get out of bed and get dressed. And I will celebrate those accomplishments if I attain them. 

People, I'm not trying to be a Wendy Whomp Whomp, I'm just keeping it 100. We as humans make all of these big plans, spend money on needless holidays and things that will supposedly make us happy, and then 2 months later we're back where we started. Weight Watchers, Planet Fitness, Franklin Covey, DayTimer, Under Armor, and the others like them love your enthusiasm. You are lining their pockets while emptying yours and paying for someone else's vacation home. 

Stop! Just take it one day at a time. Tomorrow isn't promised anyway, so how about just celebrating the day itself, even if it is just another Monday. 

Reasonably Unreasonable or Girl You Are Insane in the Membrane

Let me give you a heads up on this post from the outset. It will be written in my speaking voice, so expect an exorbitant amount of slang mixed in with my usual spattering of $10 words. You've been warned. 

Can I be real with y'all for a minute or two? Like for real, for real type real?

I'm going through a bit of a rough patch right about now. I'm talking deep dark forest kind of terrain in my life. It's like I sorta kinda know where I want to be and where I want to go, but getting there seems like an exercise in futility.

I will be the first to admit that I am a tad slow on the uptake when it comes to hearing from the LORD. And on the real tip, I have an issue with fear. Not sure if it's a fear of success disguised as a fear of failure or just flat out fear of looking stupid. So what do I do? Nothing. I. Do. Nothing. Stupid, I know, but hey, at least I am willing to admit it. They say that's the first step to progression.

For years I have worked on jobs that I quite literally despise in an industry that is a soul-sucking black hole where dreams go to die. No one I know of entered into the insurance and benefits industry on purpose. It's like the retail of office occupations. Better yet, it's like working in fast food just behind a desk and computer. Long hours and very little pay from people who ask things of you that make little to no sense. No matter how hard you try no one is ever satisfied. Just when you think you have finally gotten the hang of things the rules change on you, again. It's like being in a hampster cage. You have the wheel that goes nowhere, a little bit of sawdust on the floor (those are dashed hopes and dreams by the way), and you just hope that someone will give you some carrots and water every now and then so you can have enough energy to get back on the wheel. 

Some of the people I have met along the way have been true gems and will be lifelong friends. Others, well, I said I would keep it real. There are just some people who make my whole entire fat brown booty ache. They are just the dictionary definition of UGH! The poster children for birth control and natural selection. But to their credit, they have given a whole heck of a lot of material for my stand up routine. Hmm, guess they do serve a purpose after all. Interesting.  But I digress. Truth be told, I am not a people person at all, so going to an office every day to be surrounded by folks who make me miserable only makes it worse. How I still have all of my hair is nothing short of a miracle. 

Now you would think that someone who is so incredibly unhappy and cries every day either on the way to way to work or on the way home would have sense enough to pursue her dreams and get the heck out of the hamster cage. Yup, any reasonable person would. I apparently am not a reasonable person and am about three nuggets short of a happy meal. I think the saying goes "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result." Clearly, I am a tad insane being that I have been trodding through this life for almost 48 years and still have yet to find my bliss or pursue true happiness. Don't get me wrong. There have been some really enjoyable moments here and there, and I've had some victories that still blow my mind. 

It's just time for me to walk on water.

Since Peter is my favorite disciple and I am most like him (will cuss you out, cut off your ear, then ask Jesus to fix it all), then I should be like him and step out of the boat. Unlike Peter, I need to keep walking and to do that I need to keep my eyes on Jesus and not the wind and waves blowing around me. It's all about seeking the Kingdom first, listening for that Still Small Voice, and standing on the promises of God. He promised never to leave me nor forsake me. He promised me that nothing could ever separate me from His love. He promised me that I humble myself, pray, and seek His face that He will hear me, forgive me, and heal my land. Guess I can't lose since I serve a God Who has already won. Doesn't matter how unreasonable I am, He is my reason for going on in spite of my insanity. 

One of These Kids is Not Like the Others

Truth be told, I am not a very open person. My personal motto is "Trust no one, suspect everyone". More than a few people have said to me "Don't be that way," or "That's no way to live." To them, I say "Hmph, if you only knew."

Here's the deal. While from the outside looking in, I have had a pretty charmed life. On many levels, this is quite true. Private schooling for 13 years, a roof over my head, food to eat, clothes to wear... All of the "things" that could and should satisfy the typical child in these yet to be united states (always the militant, sorry not sorry).

There was always something missing though, two things actually. Love and acceptance.

Now before some folks (i.e. family members) get all butt hurt about what I'm saying, this is my space and my perception. Also, keep in mind, we had two very different childhoods. I can't speak on what you went through and you truly cannot understand mine. So save the drama for your mama, and I mean that quite literally.

Let me give you a scenario, see if you can relate. Have you ever walked into a room full of family members but felt like the red-headed stepchild (no shade intended on gingers. Prince Harry is my boo)? Always trying to fit in but never quite able to master their language? Yeah, that kid was me. That's why I hate, loathe, despise, abhor, detest, and dread family functions of any sort. Holidays, weddings, funerals. It's always too much. Too many people at once who are supposed to be my kinfolk and skinfolk but when all together in one place, they feel like them-folk. It only takes a few minutes for me to find a corner somewhere to hide, zone-out, and find my personal "happy place". Those people are not my people. Not all at once anyway. There are one or two that I can take maybe a couple at a time, but all of them? Uh, no. Seriously, Team Doin' Too Much.

After many years of soul-searching and much prayer, I finally figured out why. There is a huge age gap between my siblings and myself. Eight and ten years respectively. Which means there's a gap between me and my cousins as well. Growing up, I always felt like the outsider and the "oops". You can't tell me I wasn't a mistake. And lately, as their mother gets older, she's started to let stuff slip. Snide remarks here, a slick word there. Little hints that I was definitely Daddy's baby but her maybe (I really don't believe I'm her kid, just sayin'). A lot of things didn't make sense then but do now. And while it's not all right, it's still alright. Jesus loves me. And because I know He loves me then I know I'll be OK. Better than OK. Folks just have to respect The Great Wall of Defense that I've built around me. It's all a part of my Proverbs 4:23 way of surviving - "Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life."

So in my own defense, it's not that I don't want to love or trust people. Quite the contrary. I love a tad too much and have been hurt because of it. And when I get hurt I get angry, and when I get angry, well, let's just say it's not pretty. Don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry (old school TV reference).

So I'm protecting myself and subsequently you as well. You're welcome.

The Snack Queen - Episode One

True confession time.
I have an addiction.
I love snacks.
Like seriously loooooooove snacks.
My love list is Jesus, snacks, family, snacks, friends, and snacks in that order.
If I can find a way to live on snacks and coffee it's a wrap.
My nickname at my job is The Snack Queen. I'm cool with that.
Popcorn is my number one favorite. I quite literally ate in every day for breakfast for 6 months. Gibble's Red Hot chips are a close second with Unique Pretzel Shells rounding out the top three.

 I love creating my own recipes, too. Weird twists on things that people already love. Like my latest creation, Deep Fried Sweet Potato Pies with a Rum Cream Cheese Dip. I'll give you the basics. If you want the full recipe with measurements, leave me a comment or email me.

You will need the following:
Sweet potatoes
Butter
Nutmeg
Cinnamon
Ginger
Sugar
Milk
Egg
Salt
Vanilla or rum (depending on your audience)

Wonton or egg roll wrappers
Water
Canola Oil

Cream cheese
10x sugar

For a richer flavor, do not boil the sweet potatoes, bake them. Trust me, it works wonders.  BEAT the baked and skinned sweet potatoes with the butter until smooth. MIX in everything else on the list up to and including the vanilla or rum until mixed but still stiff. Not runny.

Get out your wrappers. Place the wrapper on your prep surface in the shape of a diamond (point towards you, point away from you, points left and right).
Using a small scoop or spoon, place a dollop of the filling into the center of your wonton wrapper. If using the egg roll wrapper, use a medium sized scoop and two dollops on close together slightly above the middle of the wrapper.

Using the water and your finger or a gentle pastry brush, lightly wet the edges of your wrappers. Fold the wonton wrapper in half to make a triangle and press the edges to seal them. Try to press out any air bubbles.
Fold in the top point of the egg roll wrapper over the filling, pressing out as much air as possible. Fold in the sides. Now roll the wrapper towards you and seal with the bottom point.

Heat your oil to the ripple stage and drop those puppies in carefully. Fry until GBD (golden brown and delicious on all sides. Remove them and drain on a rack or crinkled paper towels.

While they are cooling, mix you dip.
In a mixing bowl, combine the cream cheese, milk, 10x sugar, and rum.
Mix until creamy smooth and loose, but not too loose. You do not want a runny dip. Ew!

Arrange your sweet potato lovelies on a beautiful serving tray with the dip in the middle. Enjoy!

OK, now I'm really hungry. Time for a bedtime snack!

Secrets and Lies

"There is nothing hidden that will not be found. There is no secret that will not be well known" - Luke 8:17 CEV

For real though, why do people even bother lying about petty things? Even lying about not so trivial things is stupid. The Orange Anal Pore is proving daily that you can't escape your lies. But this is not another political rant. I'll save that for his next scandal or as we common folks call it, tomorrow.

No, I'm talking about family and friends. It is so stupid to lie to those closest to you. On the real, all you are doing is making things harder on yourself. Eventually nothing you say will be believed. You don't want to be that person. One day you will be telling the truth and really need help and no one will be there.Why? Because you have lied your way ouy of their trust.

What's even worse, than lying constantly is having some big ridiculous family secret. Oh my gosh, if only you knew how many families have been destroyed over one person's desire to save face. Just tell the truth from jump. Will a few people have hurt feelings? It's very likely they will, but they will get over it. It's selfish to hide something until you're on your deathbed or even worse, to leave a letter with the truth to be dealt with after you die. That is a straight up punk move.

Just fess up people. Seriously. Living a lie for years is far worse than just telling the truth and dealing with the consequences. You are living in your own private hell for no other reason than foolish pride. Is it really worth it? Is it worth hurting your family and friends for years to come because you were too selfeish and your ego was too big to be honest? Wow. That's messed up.

I know of quite a few secrets and lies, but it is not my place to out anyone or tell their story. Until they are ready to tell it, I just have to sit back and watch and wait. You can't force someone to come clean. All you can do it have a broom and bucket at the ready when the tie comes to clean up the mess.

Clean up in aisle seven!