aprilalmeidahamont-blog

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Cup-floweth-over messiness

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Take the Red Eye

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Soul Scream

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Dive in

It's pretty amazing how diving into something you've been thinking about recharges your soul. We get so caught up in our heads and minds, we find reasons to put things off, we wait for a perfect moment or a perfect ability or skill. We plan and hope and want. Why don't we just jump? When young it's simply who we are. We leap without thought or fear, we soar not even needing to fly. But as we age, and experience loss, disappointment, rejection, and lost hopes, we just learn to pause. We hold back. We consider, likely far longer than each situation requires us to. I think the opposite should happen as we grow older. We should simply do what comes to mind. Just jump in. Wouldn't it make sense that, with more experience we have coping with what we worry about, and with less time we have left (so to speak), that we shouldn't put off doing? Trying? Think on it...just don't think too long. Act on it.

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SPINNING WHEELS

I’ve always been someone who is easily bored. I was the one to try something new, take chances, make a leap. Even through often debilitating anxiety, I still jumped. The good side of this is seeing new places, trying to things, adventure, fun, facing fears, and showing yourself just what you’re capable of. The bad side, it’s an unpredictable way to live, you don’t fare well holding jobs, friendships come and go a bit faster, and you tend to seek different too often.

So as I grew deeper into adulting, I seemed to calm down. Marriage and kids will do that to you. But it was also comforting. Stable. Steady. Dare I say predictable. All the things I didn’t know I wanted until I had them. Fast forward to growing older, kids growing up, facing new stages of age (also known as the sometimes mid-life stage) and I am honestly unsure of pretty much everything right now. Especially myself.

I have always been a visionary, someone who questions things and digs deeper for new ways. Now I find I am questioning things far too much, and that comes with very high doses of fear and worry. It’s almost like it’s a new part of my soul. My inner being is simply a timid toddler now, scared to move for fear of “scary stuffs”.

I’ve always been proud of this tough body and what it could do. I pushed myself many times over limits throughout my life. Living at the gym in my 20s, rock hard body, giving birth to three kids, two of which were home births (by CHOICE!). Age never occurred to me at any stage. Now? I am overwhelmed with age as a number itself, and overthinking everything I do. Am I healthy enough? Is something lurking inside? What if? I’ve always been an anxious soul by nature, but this is stupid on every level I can imagine.So what gives? Is this the normal process of preparing me for the next stage? Is it all doom and gloom ahead, or am I going to snap out of it soon and carry on? Is it hormones? How do you carry on when your brain constantly red flags your existence?

And what is this mindset of needing to change everything? This urge to do something else? And do it NOW. It’s like I am spinning my wheels and stuck, but not sure why? I’m not necessarily unhappy, but I am not content. I’m not really doing badly, but not succeeding. It’s like a whole lotta nothing. Middle everything. And I hate it.

So I am coming to terms with this new normal, and trying to work through it. It’s a safe bet to say that is likely the only way to come through to the other side, and find a new way. Resurface and find comfort in a new stage of life. But how? Forge ahead and face it head on. Sure. Sounds right. And I am doing this. Sort of. But I still feel very unsteady and childish most days. Lost for sure. I mean I feel like I am in shock. I didn’t think I’d be this age and be this unsure, clueless and afraid. Most days I want to scream, and other days I want to run. Then there are the days I feel incredibly inspired and powerful and focused….only to have that fade away when the thoughts start to shift, and the unease returns. The overall feeling of being unworthy, or not good enough. Silly. Too old. Chicken.

Yep. Negative self talk isn’t wise, but how do you stop yourself? Yeah, you can do self care and therapy. You can meditate, do yoga. Eat well, exercise. Medicate. But at the end of it all, it’s up to you to cope and manage your own life. You don’t make it to mid life and not get that life lesson. The other things can help you mask yourself. Mask your fears and questions. Ultimately we have to fix ourselves.Spin the wheels until they finally slow, and eventually stop. Probably leaving some solid marks in the ground. But there is no other way. Put it in gear and keep pushing the gas. 

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Let It Run

Last year, I challenged myself, and my best girlfriend, to try rowing. I have always loved the water, and while I've never kayaked or been in a canoe, I assumed rowing would be easy. At very least, we'd get some awesome workouts in, learn something new and conquer some fears.

Well, we did so, but, it was far from easy. To put it mildly, it was terrifying and I felt clumsy and scared most of the time on the water. Once I learned to handle the enormous oars (skulls), I fought through blisters to manage them while not tipping the pint-sized-fiberglass boat, also known as, a shell.

The one thing from that amazing bucket-list learning experience that I found interesting was, when you were instructed by your coach to stop rowing and pause, causing the boat to gently glide on its own, they yelled out "LET IT RUN". This was the phrase used to make you stop what you were doing and hold your oars steady. It was scary at first, because you had to maintain balance, but eventually, I couldn't wait to hear those words because it meant I could rest. I learned to quickly find my balance.

I find that I have taken that phrase in my everyday life and am using it often. Letting it run, to me, has meant to allow myself to just be. To allow what will be, to be. To allow even the uncomfortable moments, the scary times in life, the unsure feelings, the anxieties and fears, the depression, even, to just run its course. It sounds almost counter -productive, but I feel that it isn't. We shouldn't fight what we are feeling, especially when it's bad, or worrisome, or not what we feel should be happening. Or how we should be reacting to it. It is the best way to find balance again.

The next time you are facing moments in your life that you think require action, but you're lost and unsure as to just how to "act", or don't know what to do and feel overwhelmed, try letting it run. Pause. Hold still. Let it wash over you for however long it needs to, for however long you need it to. Until you feel comfortable and confident to grab those oars and start rowing again.

I promise it makes life easier to manage. A lot easier than rowing was!

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Motherhood’s Profound Madness

(I wrote this during the height of chaos with younger kids underfoot while trying to establish my day job as Realtor...)

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I recall a saying I read somewhere years ago just after having my first daughter. “Being a mother means to go around wearing your heart outside of your body”. At this stage of my life, a stage I used to dream I’d be at, I now find myself living this saying. And a lot more.

Yes, true enough, my heart is proudly displayed upon my sleeve. Proud mama. Mama

bear. #Momlife. Loving mother . That’s me. But what’s also on my sleeve is usually a stain or two, or some little person pulling at its threads desperate for my (again) attention because they require my undivided assistance for some reason. Usually something simple, and often something they’re not supposed to be doing/wanting/playing with. But I digress. Or is this some weird dream I happened into on the way to my real life? Meh, who knows? But here I sit, chugging the 3rd mug of caffeine today, trying to get work done, cell phone dinging away, dishes peering at me from their stacks in my sink. Cat snoring in the corner.

Where did it all go? Did I just ask that out loud? Shit. Moms aren’t supposed to do that. At least that’s what I hear. I think I have the right to start asking questions now. I’ve earned the right. I’m over 40 years old. I have 3 kids. I’m married. I’m a census takers’ DREAM category stat. I’m it! I’m the IT gal. So why don’t I feel “it"?

And before any moms reading this (thanks, by the way) start judging me for daring to look back on my life instead of forward, (because you know we all do that) into my bliss (yada yada). Let me be the first to say I’ve already judged. I think after 3 kids I have the right to start pondering my life out loud and those lives of dear friends in the same floating/sinking/capsizing boat. What happened?

I don’t think I ever had a master plan. Had a great childhood, normal stuff. No fireworks or deep-seeded sadness, no racy secrets. Pretty plain and simple. Finished school. High school was far from the drama we watch on Glee these days. When I was done with that hot mess, it was oblivious to me as towhat the hell was next. I always knew I wanted to be a mom. That was simple. Wasn’t quite sure I was marriage material. I wasn’t one of those girls who dreamed up fairy tale wedding dresses. Meh. In all fairness, I just happened upon love when I met my husband…and we met in THE classy place that all the experts tell you NOT to meet someone because it won’t last. A bar.

And there it went. Life just happened. I was happy and doing what we all set out to do, I think. Soon, we started a family. I still had no real “plan”. I didn’t have a fancy high paying secure job, where I could take maternity leave like other moms were able to. In fact, I’d quit my boring office job mere months before getting pregnant. Yes you could say I enjoy making things more challenging for myself.

And then it was. Motherhood. I recall sitting on my living room floor when the reality of the situation suddenly kicked in. I was watching some stupid afternoon talk show, looked down at my still-flat tummy, and was instantly overwhelmed with terror. FUCK! There is something ALIVE in there! I can’t turn back. I can’t rewind this. This is REAL! I cried like a baby for awhile that afternoon. I laugh looking back, and at times I still cry looking ahead. Seriously, this is madness.

Mothers must question their lives all the time. Internally, at least. I know it isn’t popular to do so. Hell, I’ve been one of the biggest proponents of all things MOTHER for so many years I’ve lost count. It’s likely what has finally attributed to my current state of “WTF?” And before I dive in further, let me be the first to say I am happy. I adore my 3 daughters more than my own life. Yes, it’s true. I know what it means to want to die for someone (sorry dear husband). They are my everything. I am amazed when I look at them that they came out of ME. But it’s also what tears me up inside. How do moms retain what makes them “themselves?” How do we maintain us? Our beings, our souls? Seriously. And I’m sick of the hokey spiritual books, specialists and TV shows trying to tell us to slow down, grab a massage, get your pedicures blah blah. How the fuck does this help us? 'Splain it to me Lucy.

Moms need to be more real about their shit. There I said it. Minus the fucking guilt. And enough with the judgement. I’m looking at you all. I’ve judged so much for so long that it’s now officially come back to bite me in my not-so-tight-anymore ass, and I’m not proud. So now that we’re being honest, let’s put it out there.

That whole ideological fantasy of what motherhood should be, is fucking dangerous. Nothing prepared me for the enormous panic attack that followed instant realizations of finally being a mom. I think I truly believed, on some level likely instilled in me from my mother, (and her mother prior) that I was predisposed to being a mother. Truth us, I wasn’t. I spend most days being what I feel is the worst mother. I yell, I threaten, I give in, I take away. I have guilt. Huge guilt. Guilt I didn’t bank on when I first became a mom. Guilt for not working early on with my firstborn, the blessed stay at home mommy. With hardly any money to live day to day. But I was HOME. Good mommy. Guilt that I now work constantly with our 3rd child underfoot, because I should be home just for her, to make her happy and be the perfect mom not hassled by clients, office calls or money stress. So here I am, working mommy, busy, making money. Good mommy? Sigh.

And, there are more things that I have come to embrace. I am no longer afraid to say I enjoy being a mom, that I don’t mind the distance from my spouse at times. I don’t mind sharing my bed and heart, food and space, tears and thoughts. We are allowed to enjoy these things. I’m no longer afraid to publicly state I hated the newborn stages of my children’s lives. Always was terrified of breaking them, or making some deadly mistake. I hated dressing them up for display and taking them out. Of course, mine were screamers and hated being the car-seats the first 3 months of their lives….life was shitty. I hated bathing them, slippery little screaming balls of flesh.

The only thing I am finding I feel now that they’re all growing older (I have a TEENAGER now!), is how bittersweet life is. I am sad watching the baby stages (all of them, even the dreaded ones) pass, and yet, I love reliving my teen years through them and watching them change in front of my eyes. Is that weird? I have many nights  where I cry to sleep, angry at life aging us all. Yes, it’s part of life’s great process, however I am not ready for it all. Ever. And I don’t want to get old and lose these mad moments. Crazy eh?

Life is and always will be profound. There is no way around it. Try as I may to slow the hands of time, it doesn’t work. And try as I may to be the perfect mom, to “get it all”…that doesn’t work either. Damn it. What I have learned is, it’s all worth it. Scars and all. Mistakes make me better. I just hope one day these girls see that and experience half of what I have. I do secretly wish that upon them. <grin>.

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Wrong Decisions, Right Direction?

How many times have you made a decision to make a change, only to question yourself months down the road? And not only that, but feel the push, or energy, or whatever it is that makes you change your mind, and decide to make a change again?

I have. Actually, I am in the middle of one right now.

The weird thing is, what I am leaving behind, so to speak, is precisely what I wanted. Or, as it turns out, what I thought I wanted. Part of me is questioning my sanity, part of me thinks I am maybe just unmotivated or lazy in my current situation, and just not putting in the work. And then I look around and realize, that's not true. Anyone who knows me knows I put my heart on my sleeve, and it holds true for my work as well.

Ok, so I am not a slacker. Just unsatisfied. Unhappy with the status quo, whatever the fuck that even means. I had the things I wanted and they were exciting, for a few short months, and I felt valuable, and valued and somewhat important. And now that isn't true anymore. And, in fact, when I look back I feel like a fraud. Like I was just trying to fit in (again) and be someone I wasn't. Trying to be like the others around me. For some reason I haven't yet learned to stop looking around me for value and look within me.

I think that is changing, albeit slowly, and I am starting to realize I am not like others. I don't really want what they have, or at least, I don't want to work as hard for it. I don't want it all. What the hell is "it all" anyhow? Whatever it is I guess I just don't want it. Thought I did, but I don't.

Likely it's due to life circumstances, family situation, and so on. And isn't that what we work for? So it should make sense that we should keep the focus on that, and make whatever changes we need to stay happy, right?

So now what? I keep telling myself the decision to change, again, is the one for me. It's best. It's best for now. It changes circumstances for the better. And I believe it, I think. I mean, do we ever really trust ourselves completely when making life choices?

I'm learning to. I mean I am taking this leap, again. It feels right, sort of. What it does it gives me hope, again. Gives me power, back. I can feel a shift, and even if in the end it wasn't the right decision, I believe it is moving me towards what is.

So, here I go.

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What Makes Shit Real

Part of my life stress, or chaos, or surreal-existence mindfuckedness, for me, has been a diagnosed illness my oldest of three daughters lives with. After completing elementary school, and after mandatory HPV vaccines (went against my better judgement and allowed it-note: there is NO researched proof that it is a cause, however the CDC is now formally researching the link), my daughter entered high school....and began to get sick.

When Is a say "sick", I don't mean menstrual cramp sick, or flu sick. I mean she began to lose the ability to function. Stomach issues, brain fog, dizziness and blacking out, fainting, weight loss, headaches, fatigue to where she lost muscle mass, and so on. We became terrified and sought help. She worsened and after years of doc visits and hospital visits, months (combined) of missed school (still achieving the honour roll every year she was in school), we were given a diagnosis of POTS. What the fuck is POTS, you ask? Well it's not the thing you cook with in your kitchen that's for sure.

Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome. POTS for short. An autoimmune illness that essentially is the brain no longer sending correct messages to the body to function. Google that shit ,or better yet visit HERE for proper info.

Suffice it to say, it's been a fucking nightmare. I cry to sleep more nights than I care to admit. She has lost everything, her entire teen years gone. Forced to leave high school midway through due to symptoms. Not able to drive. The list goes on and I'll cry if I type more so I will leave it here. It's something I wouldn't wish on an enemy..and I have a few.

In her quest to carry on, she has continued her schooling at home, self teaching. This amazing kid (doesn't get this shit from me for sure) has maintained an above 90 average. Go figure. She's superwoman. She has struggled with being trapped at home, sometimes being locked in her room for days. Depression and suicidal thoughts have her in therapy to cope. Scares the life out of me when she spirals, and no one really gets what I am going through, and I hate reaching out much because the focus should be on her. But in my quiet moments, I just lash out at the universe and cry. Our family unit of five is forever altered.

She was approved for disability benefits this week. We had prepared ourselves to fight as we assumed she'd be forced to fight for it. The idea of financial independence isn't one most kids her age (I think) even consider, until it's unattainable. Most kids her age work at the mall or something, to pay for their clothes, phones, etc. She finally will have that. And it's sinking in. She is thrilled. She has hope.

Last night stepping out of the shower, it hit me hard. If the government agencies approved her, that makes it real. Yeah I know of course it's real, her illness. We've lived this shit for so many years. But there is something oddly frightening about it being made official. Beyond a specialists' diagnosis. But somehow last night, I became, officially, the mom of a child with disability.

And somehow, that just hits me hard. Makes it very real. Very sad. Very angering. Very scary. Fuck. Why us? Why her?

Meh, must snap out of my mom-victim bullshit-sadness and remain tough. Focus on the good coming. Her independence. Her hope.

And I will. After this last crying bit.

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It’s About That Time

I've come to the point in my life where

fears are realized

thoughts show clarity

plans are broken no sooner than when made.

I've come to the point in my soul where

dreams must be sought after

goals must be put

onto paper and chased.

I've come to the point in my heart where

I must be true to me

open to anything

and

everything.

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My Life | @wnq-writers

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Grown Up Secret

Being a grown up does not lie

in our truth.

When teenage dreams are

completed.

When twenties rush in and sweep us up into their

grasp,

carrying us through wild hopes and fantasies of

what we think is ours.

When weddings overtake our reality

fooling us into

happily ever-something.

When babies and big luscious bellies

thrust us into thinking

the future is now ours.

Wisdom comes with many years of

many fears.

Changes and heartaches

Frightening times, broken dreams

Careless mistakes, unkempt plans

Procrastination

Marred motivation

Truth lies in age

when children become parents

and then revert back to children

fragile in need.

When we are sandwiched between life and

death,

struggling to make a life

while coping with life.

The secret of life is that

there is no secret.

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Battle

I can’t stop looking back

sadness choking my soul

clouding my hopes.

I face this

interior mind-self battle

so alone.

Each positive moment I muster

tiny particles of joy

are soon ravished by darkness

horrifying black, fear

thoughts turn to terror

spinning slew of hurt and feeling

afraid of what may never

come to life.

Yet

it steals the life

I’m looking at.

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Dirty Fingerprints

Don’t blink  or you’ll miss mere moments

Don’t let the obvious pass you by

I noticed dirty fingerprints on my wall the other day

The irony brings tears to these tired eyes

I’ve meant to wash them many times

Yet here I sit staring, mesmerized

Their tiny proof of existence

Now makes me cry

Oceans of tears flowing through happiness, yearning

I do treasure the chaos, exhaustion, frustration

I try hard never to miss a beat. But I do. Often

My rhythms are mixed and yet smoothed. Regrets loom always

And on some days they repeat. Over and over and on and on

I won’t wash these dirty fingerprints, just yet

They’re justified in their existence

My wall will just have to display them awhile longer

Because they hold such precious meaning. Such heart. Such life.

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Lament

Thoughts. Swirling, swimming. Trying to find their way through cramping fingertips furiously, frenetically mashing onto outdated keys….I’m painfully inept at all things necessary and fruitful today….. Chaos ensues. Mental brokenness. Adverse.

I can hear myself scream inside of my own head viciously, internally praying for the unattainable patience of a saint, yet feel the boiling rapid-rage of an angry denied animal surge through my soul. Pure. Unadulterated. Luscious.

When a moment presents itself to me, I flee….fight or flight. I choose both. Curse the sweat away, hoping to finally disappear into something invisible, unreachable, can’t find me….Gone. Beaten. Away.

Mind flutters, brain waves. I catch myself, contain myself. At once and never….insanity and lament comfort me. Willing me to live, to go on, to move forward….Breath it in.

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Eyes

Lost

In the most striking of eyes

So intense

I drown in their gaze

Soft, warm, in daylight

Night brings waves of an ocean

Strength, feeling

I see pain from the past

I sense apprehension of future

I feel love today

Forever

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If

If

You only knew

Truly understood, comprehended,

what seeing you like this does to my soul.

If

You could feel

the crushing hopeless sadness

I feel when I take in what it is you've lost

If

You only thought

the things I think

when I imagine a life for you where we find an end

where all is fixed

future dreams realized

simple things becoming truth, real, tangible

If

You only understood

my many faces

frustration, anger, pain, sadness, hopelessness, fear, worry

If

You only tasted my tears

I know you do.