That's Me In the Corner

Sometimes I feel like no one truly takes me seriously.
Perhaps this is because I'm the youngest and add being small and quiet into the mix and that makes me screwed from the get go.
I've always struggled with having a voice- knowing I have very strong opinions but feeling too worried that I might offend someone has on many occasions made me keep my mouth shut. I listen. I'm a listener.
I'm a very good listener.
I'm highly aware that my wavering confidence and paranoia at times can be the reason why I feel like what I have to say is mute to everyone else. I have honestly reached the point in my life where I mostly don't care how other people perceive me, especially those of whom I harbor not an inch of respect.
It's those whom I look up to myself and those choice few people whose opinion of me does matter- this is what I struggle with.
But I usually still keep my mouth shut because honestly, I can't change how they perceive me or how they feel about any given situation. I know this and am almost too aware of what's written unsaid between the lines. Feelings are heavy and at times awkward. It often turns into a contest of who's right and wrong- when the area is too gray to even come close to the correct answer.
There is no correct answer and I can accept that for what it is.
I go on living my life with the occasional lingering voice in the back of my mind whispering to me that I'm not good enough at anything I do. I pick up the guitar and will learn 5 new songs in a day- but that voice is there telling me I will never equate to those around me who also play. I work in the medical field (with animals instead of people) but this too wasn't mine before I started. The knowledge is shared and though I have much of it, it's not as extensive as others merely because I haven't had the chance to live so long doing it...yet. This doesn't mean I don't know what I'm talking about. This doesn't mean I can't strum a guitar or carry a tune. I have a voice.
I have a very strong voice.
A voice that I feel sometimes only gets heard by a handful of friends and strangers right here, no matter how loud I sing or how confident I feel when explaining- very few listen. 
Just once, I wish someone would listen.
The other day jokes were being thrown around about being dramatic. My husband was asked if he felt I was a drama queen and my dad simply told him to 'be careful how he answered'. I looked at him and he honestly said 'God no! She's the furthest thing from it'...and my dad laughed.
He laughed.
And not a simple 'ha ha ha'. It was from the heart because he truly believed Andrew was just trying to get out of an awkward mess. This may seem silly and irrelevant but it hurt just the same. I could see the confusion on Andrew's face because I know he truly meant the words he said. He wasn't around during the time in my life when it seemed drama followed me wherever I went. I imagine it seems as though I always went looking for it but this was never the case...maybe in a small way but that's done and over. That chapter in my life has been closed for years. I've let it go.
Why can't everyone else follow suit? Why is it not so obvious how much I have grown and changed in the past 10 years?
Maybe they have in a small way- but maybe it's harder for them because seeing those insecurities disappear means that their baby has grown up- maybe this scares them in a way I can't fully understand because I am not yet a parent.
I still have insecurities- don't we all? ( I mean seriously I'm screaming out loud right now on the computer but can't conjure up the nerve to speak the words to the faces I'm hurt by). Hey, at least I own them. At least I'm aware.
Life is such a strange phenomenon. We grow up listening to the adults around us simply because this is what we're taught to do. Anyone taller than us serves as a potential role model. I stopped growing at the age of 12, never quite reaching the height of 5'2''. So imagine my disappointment when I discovered that not all adults know what the hell they're talking about and that we're all just playing the game day by day, hoping we just don't screw anything up. It sucks to come to the realization that your role models have the same insecurities as you do. It's a harsh lesson and one I struggle with the most.
I sit here and complain about not being taken seriously but there is a small part of me that still wants to be taken care of and told that everything will be OK. The memory of being taken to bed via shoulder back and sung 'goodnight' to is still so fresh in my mind.
Perhaps it's still that fresh in theirs too and it's that much harder to break away from.
So I leave you with this parting thought- don't be afraid to speak up, no matter how small, large, old or young you are. You have a voice and it wants to be heard. Your voice may quiver and shake and this may make it seem as though you have no clue what you're talking about- but don't listen to that nagging voice in the back of your head telling you you're not good enough. You are good enough. (I am good enough.) Believe in yourself...
And everyone else around you might start believing in you too.

'Oh life, it's bigger
It's bigger than you
And you are not me
The lengths that I will go to
The distance in your eyes
Oh no, I've said too much
I've said enough '
R.E.M 'Losing My Religion'

May Day Rain

It's raining.
I don't have anywhere to be and I'm catching myself looking aimlessly out the window, thinking thoughts of what I'm going to do today.
The house needs to be cleaned. The laundry is piling up. The cats are restless and want to go outside on the screened in porch but it's too cold outside to keep the door open.
The rain doesn't care. The rain has no agenda to ruin a kid's time outside, to make us pull out our umbrellas and raincoats or to dig through the sweaters we just stocked away because Spring has sprung on our calenders.
The rain doesn't care if we decide to stay in and be lazy, watching episode after episode of 'The Cosby Show' on Hulu. It doesn't care if we sleep in or eat a whole bowl of popcorn for breakfast. It doesn't care if we read a book or two, write a play or simply sit and dream of it raining somewhere else in a place we'd rather be.
It pours down softly from it's clouds and whispers to the wind and the birds. It doesn't ask permission to fall. It simply falls, each raindrop after another because this is what rain does. It has a job to nurture the growing flowers and trees, to help them grow, but I'm not convinced the rain knows this.
I wonder what it's like to have a job and not know it. I wonder if the rain knows it's purpose or if it simply just comes out whenever she has the chance to. I wonder if sometimes, just sometimes, the rain peeks in our windows of the houses and cars we survive in, and wishes for something more.
It's a soft, gentle rain today, no thunder or lightning, no pounding of sleet or hail. It's sweet and peaceful, barely audible.
The rain is happy today and I like her.
She reminds me of being a kid again, running down the hill by my parents' house in bare feet, not a care in the world, holding hands with my brother, laughing and playing. She reminds me that it's OK to take a break from the constant thinking and worrying and surviving.
It's OK to simply be.

'Let the stormy clouds chase
Everyone from the place
Come on with the rain
I've a smile on my face
I walk down the lane
With a happy refrain
Just singin',
Singin' in the rain'

Time After Time

Hello, it's me.
I apologize for not having written in so long. My mind has been a whirlwind of emotions that I can't quite explain.
But I'll try, because that's what I do.
I just celebrated my 33rd birthday. And, as always, I've cracked jokes about getting older and feeling behind in life and blah blah blah. But I've discovered something truly magical in this past year.
It doesn't matter.
Age is indeed really just a number. There is no order to things and I find it ironic that for a time, I found myself struggling to catch up. I still do this but the voice inside my head urging me not to has become louder with time. The truth is, I have never been a straight line type of gal. I go in every zig-zagged direction before I make it to my destination. And even then, I struggle with settling.
The word 'final' has never truly been in my vocabulary.
Someone told me recently while having a conversation about life, dreams and whatnot, that I seem to be more "settled" than she is. This struck up an emotion within me that only those who have experienced my bouts of extreme stubbornness could identify with.
I'm not settled.
I'm far from being settled.
What gives her the right to view my life in this way?
Perhaps it might not seem like an insult to some, or maybe even most of you. But over the last several months I've let these words identify me. They have slowly been seeping into my brain, rendering me paralyzed from moving forward.
I feel stuck.
Is it too late for me to go on one of my crazy, random adventures? Isn't it time I settle down, buy a house, pop out a couple of kiddos and live this American Life? Who's to say that I can't still travel and have kids and a home with 5 cats and a dog? Who's to say I have to follow the rules?
I never have before so I find it odd how much I'm struggling with even the thought of becoming uniform. Maybe it's because this is what I eventually am "supposed" to do. The critics floating around in my mind tell me it's not OK to be both nomadic and have a family with a white picket fence and a yard for the dog to roam.
I can't have it both ways.
Or can I?
I have been unhappy in my line of work for at least 5 of the 10 years I've been a part of it. Maybe I've never fully let myself settle into it though it's the security that has kept me from leaving after all of these years. I'm good at it. It pays the bills (sort of). It provides a place to go 5-6 days out of the week.
But I still feel lost and at a stand still.
I've always struggled with normalcy. Even the idea of it is something totally foreign to me. I remember having conversations in my head beginning at the age of 7. I would have contests with the people living in my mind over who takes the quickest shower, brushes her teeth faster, gets dressed, ect ect. Even then I recall stopping myself for a brief moment and clearly thinking, 'I don't think other children spend their time doing this, perhaps I'm crazy, oh well, who cares?'.
But I always cared...perhaps too much. Maybe even so much that it has affected me into my adult life. I care what people think and I care how my decisions, though they are my own, might affect the people I care about. This, I feel, has kept me from doing the things that have slowly, with time, become more and more important. I keep brushing them off, telling myself that there is always time. What's another day? Another week? Another year?
Suddenly the list has become massive in my brain and I'm feeling overwhelmed. Suddenly I have all of these things to accomplish and I don't know where to begin because I've been sitting in limbo for so long.Suddenly, I want to stop worrying so much about how it might affect someone else, when all along, it's been affecting myself without me being aware of it. I want to fill this void that prevents me from living.
Does this make me a bad person?
We all have a bucket list of dreams and we all have goals. Somewhere between childhood and becoming an adult, I have separated these two items into to two completely different categories. Somewhere I have lost the ability to make my dreams come true without feeling guilty.
Not completely, but I do struggle when every day life simply gets in the way.
I'm 33 years old and feel like I have been putting a time stamp on everything. Today is the beginning of a new way of thinking. Today is a new day. Today, I choose to do whatever the hell I want.
Today, the adventure begins.

"After my picture fades and darkness has
Turned to gray
Watching through windows - you're wondering
If I'm OK
Secrets stolen from deep inside
The drum beats out of time -"
-Cyndi Lauper (Time After Time)

Meet Sadie Ann

What would you do if you saw an injured dog lying by the side of the road? Would you just keep driving, ignoring her obviously struggling body and hope that someone else would do the kind deed and stop? Would you pretend you didn’t see her with her sad eyes, asking for help? Or would you stop?

Dr. Genorah Warner of Skyland Animal Hospital did just this on the way to work early one Saturday morning. It was raining and she glanced over and saw something moving and obviously in distress on the side of the road. Once she got closer, she realized it was a dog that had most likely been hit by a car. Being a Veterinarian, she always has some blankets and at least one leash in her car so she pulled over to try to help the critter out.

She was obviously down in her back end, unable to walk on her own, and she was cold, wet and scared. The dog offered a few grumbled growls to Dr. Warner as she lifted her up into her car and placed her gently on some blankets. Obviously in pain, the injured pup seemed grateful to find some warmth in the blankets and the kind soul that actually stopped to help her, almost as though she knew that she was safe- for now.

Once at the hospital, Dr. Warner and her techs provided the dog with some pain management and antibiotics. We could visibly see that she had extensive wounds on her belly and right rear leg and that her pelvis was most likely broken. Upon scanning her for a microchip, we learned that she didn’t have one. The only form of identification she had was in the form of an old rabies tag from the humane alliance placed on her collar. She stayed through the weekend where we continued to offer her care until we were able to find her owners and get permission to perform more extensive procedures.

The following Monday, we learned that the dog and her housemate had been staying with a family member while her owner was out of town caring for her sick mother. The dogs had dug out of the fence and had been missing since the previous Wednesday. The housemate had also been hit and had many more extensive injuries. We learned that he had been euthanized only days before. They seemed thrilled to learn that their other dog, whose name we learned is Sadie Ann, had been found and was seemingly doing OK in the good hands of people who were growing to love her.

That morning, we sedated Sadie and performed hip and rear leg radiographs. We soon learned that she has a broken pelvis, split precisely in two, multiple fractures in her right hock and perhaps some internal injuries as well. We then learned that the surgery to prepare such injuries could cost anywhere from $1500-2000, not including after care or medications to help keep her comfortable. This kind of situation makes working in the veterinary field that much harder. Upon telling the owner this, the owners were given the option to either have the surgery done or euthanize. At this point, we couldn’t be certain of any other possible internal injuries that could minimize the time Sadie had with us. It was possible that the surgery would be performed and she still wouldn’t survive. The owner decided to give Sadie a chance and told us she would try to save up the money to have Sadie fixed.

Sadie came to us on December 14, 2013. Since then, she has been on pain management and antibiotics to treat her external wounds which have since healed. We have performed several radiographs and applied a splint to her left hock to help her get around better. She has had several bandage changes as well and she has also been heartworm and fecal tested. It also appears that her internal injuries weren’t as significant as what we had originally feared. She is able to use the bathroom on her own and she is now able to walk, sometimes jog, on her own, using her splinted leg to get traction and balance herself while walking and getting around the office. She has still not had any form of surgery, but she needs it in order to ensure a better quality of life.

She now also needs a new home. The previous owners have decided that they can no longer provide her with the extensive care that she needs both financially and mentally. It has been an emotional roller coaster for us all who have fallen in love with this sweet soul as we each have taken the time to care for her and keep her comfortable.

This is where you come in. We have set up a fund to “Please save Sadie”. To find out more information, please call Skyland Animal Hospital at (828)252-8644 or come on by and meet our sweet new friend who has taken up a space up front to help greet our clients as they come in each day.

We have coined the phrase “Miracle Dog” to this lovable, kind pup who has fought for her life daily since the moment Dr. Warner found her struggling by the side of the road. Each day she greets us with doggy kisses and a wagging tail, seemingly unaware that there is anything wrong with her. She’s a fighter and a huge inspiration to us all. Sadie has managed to touch the heart of each person she has encountered, providing love and comfort as only a dog can. Her story is a success that has just a little bit further to go. 

We ask you to please help save or friend Sadie. After all, it’s the least we can do since in a small way, she’s helped save us all here at Skyland Animal Hospital. We thank you for your love and support- and Sadie thanks you too.

Mary Will 

Not Fade Away

I feel like I'm disappearing.
Maybe it's the typical post- Holiday mixed with it's cold and winter/January blues, but I feel it's something greater that's pulling me back and forcing me to stay down. I'm finding that most days, I'm struggling to breathe. I literally have to remind myself to breathe in and breathe out, as though I'm teaching the art of this every day practice to myself all over again. I forget and hold my breath and I feel like I'm drowning, my head wavering just above the surface, offering a tease of hope that merely lingers because I refuse to let it go completely.
But it's hard.
And it hurts.
And I don't know why it hurts so badly but it does just the same. 
I used to go with the flow  much more easily, taking each day at a time because that's all I had. Time. Where did it go? How did I end up here? Stuck. Lost. Alone. Simply existing because I have to. My passion for life has started depleting as I see my goals and aspirations slipping from my fingertips, just out of reach from my touch, laughing at me.
It's so easy to get caught up in the everyday life "things" that we grow so accustomed to. What's for dinner? Why don't I have any clean socks? Damn. We're out of coffee. I find myself forgetting to do routine stuff that I've done for most of my adult life. I get caught staring into the deep unknown and struggle to come back to reality. Then once I do, I have no idea what's been going on around me for the past few minutes, hours, days?
I keep it all buried inside, hoping it will all just disappear. Then when it tries to sneak out into the form of words, I get even more frustrated because it doesn't make any sense and I can't convey what it is I'm feeling or what it is I'm trying to say. The words are meaningless, so I feel meaningless.
Lately, perhaps I am meaningless.
I search for the motivation it would take to simply get out of bed each morning. Willing myself to take that first step onto the cold hardwood floor and start moving. Don't sit down. Don't get distracted by your surroundings. Don't give up. Don't give in. Take a moment and breathe.
Just breathe.
Don't let the world take you over. Who cares if no one understands where you're coming from?
But wouldn't it be nice?
Wouldn't it be a joy to simply know that you're understood and you're not being a freak or seemingly appearing ungrateful for the life that has chosen you? Wouldn't it be nice to not feel like you have to explain yourself and every little action you take?
Wouldn't it be nice to not feel invisible?
To not fade away into the darkness that threatens to take hold of you?
Wouldn't it be so nice?

Annual End Of Year Ramblings of A Small Town Girl

This year has been a challenging one for me.
Upon looking back at events gone by, I find I have learned many new attributes about the human race. I have also found that the older I get, the harder it is for me to keep my faith in people in general. It's not as easy as it was when I was a child to just simply look the other way. Perhaps I just understand more about the circumstances surrounding me than I was able to when I was younger. I never noticed the hustle and bustle that the holidays brought about. I was, and still am, so very fortunate to have been brought up in a family that loves Christmas time; not to say that we all don't somehow get caught up in the stress of preparing the perfect meal, buying the perfect gift, creating the perfect atmosphere, decorating the perfect home...we're all guilty of this. But at the end of the day, the love my family and friends have for each other as they come together around the holiday season is worth more than all of the other "stuff" that tends to get in the way this time of year.
It saddens me when people can't seem to feel the true meaning of Christmas. Whether you are religious or not, the faith and happiness that brings people together this time of year is what makes it all so special. For me personally, it's all about the love and the warm fuzzy feeling that surrounds me this time of year.
All this being said, I have struggled with staying positive this year. It seems the harder I try, the more exhausted I become. I tend to take everything personally and my heart simply isn't big enough to carry all of the burdens of the people who surround me in my every day life...let alone the world.
I have been disappointed this year. I have both learned and experienced first hand the greediness, selfishness and uncommitted-ness from people I thought I knew or wanted to get to know.
It hurts.
And I have a hard time letting it go when these events have obviously made my faith in people falter.
My husband Andrew and I traveled across the country this past Spring and I can't remember another time when I felt so free and alive. I was truly able to let it all go and live each moment to it's fullest. It's the first vacation I've ever had when I wasn't ready to come home.
I cried.
Some days, I still cry out for the Oregon coast, asking her not to forget me and praying that she will still love me when we one day return.
Someday, I want to be able to feel that freedom again.
Someday.
Sometimes I find it difficult to know the difference between what's important enough to hold onto and what's not. I tend to let feelings boil up inside of me until I can't take it anymore and bubble over with words and tears and hurt that I've let take over me without even realizing it.
The days following Christmas have always been the saddest time of the year for me. As much as I would love to view the coming new year as a chance to start all over again, I find myself feeling guilty over the tasks I haven't accomplished.
The other day, I found a list that Andrew and I had made at the beginning of this year. It was a promise to ourselves and to each other to do more. There were maybe 10-15 items on the list and we accomplished 1.
One.
I know this is better than nothing but I struggle to remember when my motivation began depleting. I often have conversations with myself in my mind about all of the things I want to be and do. I pump myself up, almost enough to accomplish so many of these dreams...and yet.
It seems once I get started or have even an inkling of motivation, I talk myself out of it or get so overwhelmed with the idea of failure, I ignore all other possibilities of succeeding and stick to what's comfortable.
I used to be such a risk taker, or at least I like to think that I was. But in reality, I've always been somewhat of a scared little girl, too afraid to come out in the open and let it all out. Aren't we supposed to grow with each coming year?
Why is it that I feel like I'm going backwards?
Every day I get up, take a shower, let the dog out and tell myself that today will be a better day. I won't let the sadness that my job sometimes brings get me down. I won't let someone elses mood affect my own. I won't break. Some days, I'm strong and I am able to defeat the negativity that tries to sneak in. Lately, even if I last through the day, by the time I get home, I'm so exhausted from trying so hard to stay positive that I have nothing left to give.
It's not fair to Andrew and our family of critters.
And it's not fair to me.
Every day, I tell myself that there is something else out there. And every day, I surrender to the comfort of familiarity.
I feel trapped and I don't know what to do.
I'd like to say that I'm strong enough to look at this new year as a chance to accomplish more than one thing on my list; that I will let myself take one breath, one step, one day at a time.
It's not from lack of wanting. I so very much want something better for my family and for myself.
And it's not that I'm not truly grateful for the people in my life. I honestly could not ask for better family or friends. I wouldn't be who I am today without them. I can't even begin to express how lucky I feel to wake up beside the man who's not only my husband, but my best friend, each and every morning. I am very blessed and not a day goes by that I don't feel thankful for everyone in my life.
If anything, this year I've discovered I have the sense and adventure of a nomad and the heart of the Tin Man. Perhaps, I've always known this and just never given it a name. Sometimes it's hard to live collectively with these two traits that tend to often battle each other within me. 
Sometimes it feels like a losing battle either way I go. 
But I'm going to try.
And if I fail, I fail. At least I can then look back at the end of this time next year and say that I gave it my all. 
That's all any of us can really do, right?
So, here it goes.

"Well it's a new year, with it comes more than new fears.
Met a young man who was in tears, he asked me,
"What induces us to stay here?"
I said, "I don't know much and I'm not lying,
But I think you just have to keep on trying."

And I know I am naive, but if anything
That's what's going to save me
That's what's going to save me"
New Year's Eve- First Aid Kit

All Apologies

So, I say "I'm sorry" alot. I mean, pretty much at least 100 times a day. You fall over, I'm no where near you or perhaps even in another room, and I'll apologize. If you tell me that you're husband is cheating on you or that you're allergic to milk, I'll apologize.If I turn the corner and you're coming at me in the same direction and we collide or not, I apologize.
You get the point.
I've found that this fact about me brings upon many an emotion from people. They either get confused and say: "it's not your fault", they get angry and say "why are you always apologizing?" and then they punch me in the face and run around the building screaming/demonically laughing "I punched Mary!! I punched Mary in. the FACE!"....(OK. This has never really happened but I see the look in their eye. I know what they're thinking.) , Or, my personal favorite, they think they're a comedian "why are you such a sorry person?"
Har.Dee.Har.
Hilarious.
One time I got psychoanalyzed and my immediate reaction was to make something up so I replied "Sometimes it's just easier to take the blame than to blame someone else." And she looked at me with her therapy eyes and I knew she wanted to have me lie down on her couch so badly and dig deeper into the whelms of why I'm so complicated.
I'm really not that complicated.
I'm like Natalie Portman's character in the movie 'Garden State', Sometimes I just say things that aren't even remotely true. It's a nervous tick I have when all of the attention is on me and I'm not sure why I do it. Words just spill out of my mouth and I keep talking until the attention is finally turned onto someone else. I imagine it's pretty humorous to the person(s) with me who know I'm lying/not completely telling the truth. For example, the last yard sale we had, a lady came up to me with a book that was apparently on Oprah's Reader's Choice list (or whatever it's called) and she asked me if I had read it just because Oprah had recommended it? I enthusiastically replied "Yes! I do love Oprah!", and commenced avoiding to make eye contact with my brother because I knew he heard me and I knew he knew I was lying. I don't know why I had the sudden urge to seek approval from this stranger, but I did just the same and she didn't even buy the damn book.
Karma. It's a bitch.
I seemed to have gotten off track.
Back to the over-apologize-ing. (Yep. I just made up a new word). It's not that I ever think these circumstances, issues, whatever are truly my fault. Sometimes I just don't know what else to say. And I truly am sorry. I don't want to see people I care about, anyone really, in pain. When approached with the question "Why are you apologizing"?, I find myself getting defensive and feel the need to explain myself to said person. (I'm actually kind of doing this very thing via writing this blog...) It's silly really. It's not that I have anything to prove. I just don't understand why it seems to bother people so much. One of my former bosses literally seemed to get annoyed every time that I said I was sorry for something. I found myself  swallowing my words around her whenever I felt the need to say it so that she wouldn't attack me over merely being polite.
Maybe it's my southern heritage. I should perhaps research this and see what I find. I have noticed, just via being an observer of people,  since I've moved back to the mountains, the endearment of apologizing for everything seems more common coming from us mountain folk than from the bigger city folk. Hmm. Now I have a new explanation for the next time someone asks me.
But seriously. I'm not quite sure what the big deal is. Maybe they think that I don't mean it? Or that when something is truly my fault and I say it, it's less meaningful? I don't know. I'm not really sure why I let it get to me, but I do just the same.
I have found recently that I do get annoyed with myself when I find I'm  apologizing for the way I feel about any given situation. I tend to cry no matter how I'm feeling whether it's happy, sad, angry, upset, confused, painful. Once the waterworks begin, there's really no stopping it. This, I have found, makes some people uncomfortable.Then I feel the need to apologize for crying. It's a vicious cycle with no worthy explanation. I guess my point is this: does it truly affect a person's well being if I feel the need to say "I'm sorry"? Does it affect my well being?
The answer to both questions is "no".
So just move on and accept my sincere apologies.
Thank you and have a nice day. 

"I wish I was like you easily amused
Find my nest of salt, everything is my fault
I'll take all the blame, ill concede from shame
Sunburn, freezerburn, choking on the ashes of her enemy"
Nirvana- All Apologies

P.S. Of course I had to use a quote from Nirvana's song "All Apologies", but the question is, did I choose this specific quote to be ironic or because I have a sick sense of humor? 

I apologize for any pondering this particular post may ensue upon you....