My Meds Have Kicked In, And I Am Finally Feeling More Like Myself.

I talked, in my last entry about how I started meds and they take a few weeks to kick in. Well,, they’ve kicked in and I feel great. The racing thoughts aren’t there anymore. I don’t feel like I need to be attached to someone to feel validated. I don’t need or care for the approval of others.

I am a little peeved right now with someone who is sticking their nose in places and stirring the shit pot, but then again, I don’t really care, anymore. My statement was valid, and that’s that. In short, I dodged one hell of a bullet and I am thankful that someone else witnessed behavior that I thought I was crazy for seeing.

I’ve talked about so much stuff over the years of widowhood. I’ve talked about dating and not dating and narcissistic or toxic people. I have talked about my feelings as a widow, and how different things pull different emotions from me, than they would pull from someone else.

One thing about me will never change. I am one of the kindest, most thoughtful people out there. There are times when I say insensitive things and don’t realize I am saying something insensitive. There are times when I seem mean because I am defending someone or myself. There are perceptions of my personality that can and will always be skewed to whoever is judging.

At some point, I went from being the person who does everything out of the kindness of my heart, always trying to do the right thing and not worrying about what other people thought, because I was doing what I thought was right, and turned into the person who had so much anxiety about what one person thought of me. Even though, everything I ever did was because I cared about a misunderstood version of myself.

For about 3-4 weeks, I was in a state of perpetual anxiety. When I woke up in the morning, I had thoughts of unworthiness. When I was scrubbed in for surgery, I had thoughts of not being good enough. When I came home, after all day of running thoughts of unworthiness, I was exhausted. But my mind kept playing the tune, even as I fell asleep every single night. Some nights I would wake up in the middle of the night, and not be able to go back to sleep for a few hours because of my running commentary. I was very quiet at work for a few weeks. I only talked to a couple of people and I cried more than I have ever cried over those weeks. I wasn’t crying over anyone, just my own inability to control the thoughts in my mind. I was never secretive about my anxiety, either. I was very up front and honest about what I was going through, as I was trying to handle it.

I have never experienced anxiety like that before, and I hope I never do again. I am the picture of confidence when you see me in person, but in my mind, over those weeks, it was rough. I thought I liked someone, but I didn’t know, and the fear of even trying to be anything more than friends was rooted so deep into my core. I knew I wanted to find someone and have a relationship and THOUGHT I was ready, but the anxiety of fucking it up was too much for me to handle.

Yes, I understand. A lot of people have a fear of ruining a relationship. Sure. Everyone has a bit of anxiety when it comes to trying to date. But, the moment it invades your mind, and takes over your actions is the moment the line is crossed.

I’ve talked about my side of the “crazy” in me. So many people don’t know the whole story, because I haven’t told more than a few people about what was said to me, over the weeks I was in a funk. And I won’t. Not really.

And, honestly, my funk wasn’t the fault of the person who endured my anxiety. Not at first. It stemmed from someone before him and slowly trickled from little things that were said to me at the most random times.

Here are a few statements from a couple different people.

“I want a something more from you, than just friendship,” followed immediately by silence for weeks to a month at a time.

“You’re gorgeous, and strong and confident, but I don’t want to lose you as a friend,” followed shortly by “can’t we just have sex with no emotional attachment, and stay friends?”

“Haven’t you ever regretted kissing someone?” Seconds after kissing me.

“I can’t say if I like you or not. We just met.” After kissing me and hugging me and holding me like we had known each-other for years.

All while knowing I had anxiety and was experiencing a bout of it at that time. Little things that added up over time. I am not typing this stuff to bash anyone at all. I am sharing experiences I’ve had, that I hope to never go through again. I am sharing in hopes of raising awareness to others who may have been in a similar situation. And, I am not sharing to be a victim. I am not a “victim”, just a naive lover of people, who misses or ignores the “bad” stuff sometimes. I always try to see the best in people.

I’m over what happened and now that I know why I was in such a state of panic and fear, I can continue to work on it with therapy, blogging, private journaling and meds. My doctor, her nurse, and my therapist all agreed that what happened to me over a 6 month period would do to anyone what it did to me. It was helpful to know that experts agree on that.

I will be 100% honest, about myself, too. I had a few weeks where I was most definitely not myself. I had a few weeks where I didn’t like myself. I had a few weeks where I would text someone and say things that I regretted immediately after hitting send. Then I would apologize for the novel-long texts and came off as a completely crazy person.

I am aware. it’s why I sought help and medication. I stepped back and thought, “holy shit! I have become the crazy chick!” And, really, I am not that person! I can’t convince people who refuse to get to know me when I am myself, and that’s okay. I can’t control what others think of me. No one can. Some will love you (friends family, lovers, etc), and some won’t.

We aren’t meant to be loved by all, and that’s okay. I’m slowly getting back to who I really am, and leaving that scared, unsure person, who I had become for a short time, behind me.

I will never take kindly to people being rude to me, for no reason. I won’t allow anyone to walk all over me. I refuse to be viewed as a victim, and I refuse to victimize anyone else.

One thing that I believe wholly is that we should never leave a negative impact on someone, if you can help it. The hardest part of that is sitting back and allowing someone to dislike you and have a negative opinion of you.

if you made it this far, please, hop on over to the contest I am in to be on the cover of Maxim Magazine! Shoot a free vote my way and share the link with your friends!

***Warning!*** Pictures are risqué! nothing shows, but they’re mostly boudoir. https://maximcovergirl.com/2020/tabatha-wood

The Sock In My Hand.

Have you ever found yourself holding something, and you don’t realize you’ve got a death-grip on it? Have you ever clung to rightly to an IDEA, that you couldn’t let it go? Let me tell you a little something that I learned recently.

The other night, I took my socks off and must have fallen asleep with a sock in my hand, because when I woke up the next morning, I was still clutching that sock in the same hand, so tightly that my knuckles were white, and my hand was sore! When I let go, there was a uncontrollable sigh of relief that escaped my lungs.

There’s a major significance between that sock and my life.

I have a tendency to not let things/ideas/people go, when I should. When I woke up, and I had that sock in my hand, I felt like I was coming upon some revelation about who I am.

I know I don’t let PEOPLE go, easily. I have discussed this before. When I have my mind set on something, it takes a while for me to change that way of thinking.

Like the guy (I know, I said the last blog was the last one about him, but bare with me… this part will be short), from the previous blogs. The guy I love, with such intensity that I am unaware of how to deal. It took me months to realize that I wasn’t IN LOVE with him, but only have a love for him, so much so, I would rather be his friend for life, and never lose him, rather than risking it all for sex. MONTHS of clinging to this idea that we would be together someday.

So yesterday, I fully let go of every thought of a possibility of being with him. There was this feeling of relief.

Thanks to that sock, I feel okay with this. Just days ago, it hurt to think of giving up that hope. Now though? It’s like a weight I never knew existed was lifted from my shoulders.

Thanks to that sock, that I was gripping so tightly, like I was afraid to lose it, I am going to be better at letting things go, that aren’t meant for me. Like ideas I dream up, or holding so tightly to people who just keep taking a step farther from me, with each passing day.

I am unaware of what this chapter is, in my life. I am also not too worried about it. What is meant to be WILL be, and I have to have faith that when it’s my time to shine, I’ll shine for the correct person. Myself.

I keep looking for the deeper meaning to everything and I have forgotten to live in the moment. I have forgotten to have fun NOW! Life is fleeting. I could be gone tomorrow. You could be gone tomorrow. Everyone could be gone tomorrow.

So, why was I so stuck on the “possibility” of something, rather than the reality of what is?

Me, of all people should know better than that. All I am doing, when I hold onto a possibility is hurting myself. If I continue to hurt myself, I will lose my friend, because he cannot stand to be the reason I am in pain. I am okay with letting go of those possibilities now. He never caused me pain. It was me all along.

I’ll never NOT regret turning him down, last year.

I will never forget, again, that I did that, but it was important in that moment. We had barely just started talking to each other on a regular basis. We’d always talk about how we are worth more than just sex, and I was serious. We would drink and text each-other all the time. We were never both drinking at the same time, or things would have gotten out of hand, quite quickly.

But, I’ll let go, now. For real, this time.

I am happy with letting go.

But let me be clear. Just because I am letting go doesn’t mean I’ve lost my sisterly/friend love for him. He’s a freaking superhuman, super-dad, and has been one of my best friends through all of this dating crap, and I’ll never forget that, nor will I downplay it. I wish I could tell everyone who he is, because most of you will be like “what?! Holy shit!” But I won’t share, for his privacy. I respect people, much more than most would think, when it comes to THEIR privacy. I share all of my feelings and my experiences, but I won’t ever reveal someone unless they ask me to.

But I wish I could share so everyone could see him through my eyes, and have my version of him embedded in their minds.

amazing.

Strong.

Super-dad.

Dedicated.

Smart.

Funny.

Great listener!

Encouraging.

Positive Thinker.

Good looking 😉

And a complete gentleman.

I’ll cut it off here, because I could laundry list all of the positives about him, for days. Women would be BEGGING for his name and number. Haha!

So… the sock in my hand was a lesson to myself.

Sometimes, you just have to have faith and let go.

Dreaming In Full Color

This isn’t one of my creative writing blogs. This is a legitimate dream of my late husband, with no sex happenings.

I think it had a bit to do with a guy I saw, recently, across the street from Freddy’s on Shawnee Mission Parkway. He looked just like Mitch. My heart skipped a beat, even.

It may have something to do with my cousin reading cards for me. It was the night of Imbolc (which I really know nothing about, but it’s a “witchy holiday” is how I refer to it, since I don’t know. Lol)

My cousin read cards for 3 men who have entered my life recently, without knowing which she was reading about each time. Anyway. I’m a “weirdo”, and I have this fantastic pull when it comes to certain people, and there’s a telltale sign in my bones when someone is meant to be in my life long-term. When you just come out and say “you’re not going anywhere until we figure this out!” It gives off weirdo vibes to the max.

So, with each man she read the cards. With each one, The cards matched my initial gut reaction I experienced upon meeting or reconnection.

Now, onto my dream.

I fell asleep after my cousin left here. Mitch was there. He was across the street at a gas station looking like he’d never been gone, but also quite confused. No car, no wallet, nothing.

I went to him. He gasped and hugged me hard. He told me he missed me.

The dream flashed to a doctor’s office. I told him he had a heart condition and needed to keep it monitored so he didn’t disappear again.

The dream flashed to me being in a car, seeing Mitch through a window of our apartment, and he grabbed his chest. He grimaced. I stopped the car, ran inside and began cpr while screaming for someone to come help.

The dream shifted again. I saved his life this time. I was there and I saved him. I was scared he was going to leave me because of all the things I’ve done since he died.

I laid with my head in his lap crying as he stroked my hair. I told him I love him and I’d never stop loving him, but that I believed our journey together on earth was over. He told me “Your journey is just beginning. Keep following the path you’re on. What is meant to be, will be.”

I woke up with such a sense of closure, and such a sense of love and acceptance and a new sense of excitement to explore this part of my life.

He spoke words that I speak regularly, but it was as if someone was finally speaking them to me. Someone was finally reminding me that everything happens for a reason.

Every single meeting is meant to take place in each and every person’s life. Nothing is coincidence. Everything is purposeful. Don’t get angry when things don’t go your way. LEARN, then put your knew knowledge into action to create the life you’re meant to live.

That dream, my husband telling me to continue my path. Just wow. I, honestly, don’t even know what path I’m on. Am I on a path to be with my next “person”? Am I on a journey of further self-discovery, a deeper knowledge of myself, spiritually?

I guess, when it comes to this path I’m on, I’ll treat it like every other one,

I’ll keep putting

One Foot In Front Of The Other.

Happy Monday.

Divine.

I Got Issues. You Got’em Too.

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Many times, lately,  I find myself throwing myself into situations I should most definitely avoid. These situations are mainly men.

Men who aren’t right for me.

Men who I’m not right for.

When does it end?

When does “real” happen again?

When do I stop? Have I gotten myself into situations so often that it’s becoming natural for me?

I don’t NEED drama in my life. I don’t. Consciously, I don’t want it either, but, I seem to draw that shit in, each one filled more so than the last.

Meet a guy at a party. Start seeing him as a friend with benefits, but when I wanted more, it wasn’t an interest.

Have an AMAZING hookup, see the guy 2 more times, then nothing. Wrong guy for me. (You’ll read about him in my book)

Fall in love with this guy, because he’s perfection in a man, one of my best guy friends.  Wrong man for me. God Damnit!

Date a guy from school, who turned out to be absolutely horrible for me.

An ex came back into my life, and I am not sure this will work. Simply stated: I don’t trust him. I’m not sure if it’s his fault or if it’s my fault or if it’s a combination of both our faults, and our histories. Whatever the case, I don’t trust him, so I am paranoid, and my overthinking mind goes ballistic of it’s own accord. Thoughts and images of him with another woman raging through my mind. WHY? But, usually, my intuition is right, when it comes to this, so I am fucking terrified. The first night out with the ex, we damn near went to town in the bathroom at a bar. Thank god the glass fell off the sink and broke.  That isn’t me. Is it? Seems to be me, when I’m with him, oddly enough. Even when we were kids, making out, hot and heavy at the drive in theatre, with his dad in the front seat of the car. Always hot and heavy. Can’t keep our hands to ourselves. Never could. Like there’s no “simmer”. Gotta find that knob, or this won’t work either. 

I don’t want to change anyone. I know that’s something a lot of women do. I don’t. I stand strong in the statement “Only you can fix you.”

One of the most commonly occurring statements to me, seems to be, “I’d love to have sex with you, but you are just my friend.

Why am I good enough for sex, good enough as a friend, but not good enough to be a partner? Why is the first thing every man wants, when it comes to me,  sex? Seriously.

So, instead of keeping my standards high, I lower and lower until the bar is just stepped over, like nothing matters.

When will this end?

I know my worth. I quit talking about my worth out loud, because I don’t want to sound like a conceited, stuck-up bitch. You know? I’m not trying to scare potential male suitors away. ha. Or maybe that’s what I SHOULD do. Maybe Survival of the Fittest is how I should treat it.

I’m a LOT. I am sure I’ve said it before, somewhere in all of these writings. I was way up then wayyyyyy down, yesterday.

I left the bar, to go get pepto for Meg, and come home. I sat in the parking lot of CVS, snot crying because my head is so twisted, and knotted over so many thoughts, and I can’t get it straight. I can’t untie the knots, and smooth the strings. Am I in love with my friend? I mean, the whole world shifted and I haven’t been able to NOT think about him all of the time. Anytime I kissed a guy, I felt like I was cheating. I felt like I was cheating on a chance to be with him. And maybe, MAYBE I created a version of him that isn’t who he is, but who I see and want him to be. Maybe I fell in love with an illusion. I don’t know.

I just want the tangles in my brain to stop.

I want it to unwind, but every time I pull a string, it makes the knots more and tighter.

I want easy, for fuck’s sake!

I mean, I am not naive enough to believe that having a relationship will be simple, but I want the trust to come naturally. Why is it SO hard for me, now? I had zero issues trusting Mitch. But he sat down with me, before our second date, and told me, “I don’t trust you.” Zero intro to the statement, and just a touch of explanation after. Then, I proved myself to him.

Maybe… Maybe I’ll just take a dating hiatus again.

When I don’t fight for attention.

When I feel wanted for more than my body.

When I feel like a partner.

When I get a say in when we see each-other, rather than the guy always calling the shots.

When he makes me feel beautiful at my worst.

When I am so obviously the only one he thinks about and wants to be with.

When I never have to question if he’s lying.

When he proves he’s worthy of my company.

Then… THEN I’ll step into something.

 

Until then… Respect my mess, because it is a part of this package.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hey, Mitch.

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Johnny got married this past weekend. Hopefully you saw. His bride, Tina,  was stunning. Megan went, and she even wore a dress. She was wearing her Vans, but,  still in a dress and looked gorgeous.

Our OCR group took over the bar area, and served everyone drinks all night, because we can never just sit still, and we always seem to have our hands in everything, helping wherever we can. I wish you were able to meet these people, babe. They’ve become some of my closest friends. They encourage me to keep going, and most of them only knew of you, what I told them, and they all love you, too. You were definitely a keeper, that’s for sure.

I think about how I hit the jackpot with you. I know you always claimed we were like the couple from King Of Queens, “I’m the fat guy with the super hot wife!” I love you. I love how you loved me. I love how we loved each other. It was beautifully meant to be. No question.

I was telling someone yesterday, about how I used to HATE when you shaved, because you would always leave a huge mess with your little red beard hairs all over the bathroom. I loved that red beard.

I followed that up with how I ran out of shaving cream, recently, and decided to use your shave bar, and how I sat on the floor of the shower, as the water blasted me, and cried my eyes out, because your little red beard hairs were still in the shave bar and dish. It smelled like you, and there was a little piece of you right there, like you were still here. But, you’re not. You’re no longer here, in my realm.

I survived that bout of tears, as I will survive many many more. I don’t fear my tears, anymore. I don’t fear crying in front of anyone. I don’t fear the reactions I may receive in the event of crying in the oddest of places. I just do. If someone asks if I am okay, I always tell them “I will be. Give me a minute.”

Race season is coming up, and it’s coming up FAST! I am hosting a workout with a few other KCOCR admins, this Saturday to help the general public get ready for Warrior Dash. It’s so cool, because it’s a free workout, and Warrior Dash posted it on their social media pages to help spread the word! Remember when I would get up at ungodly hours, and go work out at different gyms, with our tiny group? That tiny group is HUGE now. There’s almost 1,000 of us, and now I am one of the moderators, alongside some amazing people.

My strength and conditioning coach got an amazing opportunity to put his degree to use, and make some pretty great money (I am guessing about the money), and will be moving to New York! I’m super happy for him. He’s created a monster in me. HA! I’ve lost weight, built muscle and strength. I haven’t looked this good in decades!

OH!! You won’t believe this! I am down to a size 6! I can even fit in some 4s. It’s crazy! I haven’t been this small since before I got pregnant with Megan.

Speaking of Meg…

I’m at a loss. I can’t get her to clean her room. Her room, sadly, looks just like your basement bedroom always did. Moldy dishes, bottles of drinks all over. Goldfish crushed into the floor. Trash, clothes, and hangers EVERYWHERE!! Towels all over. You get it. You know what your room looked like. That’s what her’s is like, and it’s driving me insane. I mean, I get a little messy sometimes, now, but not dirty messy. Just stuff like a basket with 13 loads of clean laundry that needs to be folded and put away, or dishes after a big meal prepping day. I know. You probably think I’m crazy. I just can’t stand having a messy home anymore. I’m less exhausted this way. I don’t have to think too much about where my things are, and that makes me a happy person.

I also can’t get her to improve her grades. She is, well, lets just say it isn’t looking good.

I wish you were here to help me help her. I try. I try hard.

She is smart. I know she’s smart. She knows she’s smart. But, some stuff, she just doesn’t DO and it’s causing her to get bad grades.

She’ll get it. I know she will. She’ll figure out how badly failing classes will be for her, in the future.

If there is a God, please, tell her I need guidance, because she isn’t listening to me. Or him?

I have decided to attempt actual dating, now. Although I love you with so much vigor, and will always love you, whole heartedly, I have come to realize that there is a growing chamber of my heart that is going to allow me to love another person, some day. I’m not saying anytime soon, and it’ll never be the love that we shared, because that cannot be duplicated. But that doesn’t mean it can’t be a great love, too. Right? I know you’d want me to be happy, and you wouldn’t want me to be alone forever.

Oh! When I went on a date the other day, I ACTUALLY let him open the truck door for me, and accepted help in and out, like a lady should. Remember when I threw the feminist shit at you? “do NOT open my door for me! I am fully capable!” I’m so sorry. I was so young. I didn’t think about it being a nice gesture, or an act of respect. I’m growing more to understand the things I didn’t know while you were here. In some ways I am so sad that I didn’t figure these things out, while you were still alive. I wonder how I never realized some things. I should have let you be the man you wanted to be for me. I mean, you were definitely the man for me, but I didn’t allow you to be a typical gentleman, from the very beginning. There is so much Love and so much respect for you, that I wanted you to see me for the independent woman I really was.

I wasn’t “independent” then. I mean, sure, I could do this or that by myself, but I had no idea what was happening with bills, the bank account, or anything else, for that matter, for many many years.

Our 16 year wedding anniversary is coming up. It’s crazy to think we would have been married 16 years. Together for 19, come August. If I didn’t live the beautifully tragic love story of us, I wouldn’t believe it. Or I would, but I wouldn’t believe that the widow is still sane, and functioning for every day life. It’s like a story someone made up, so they could sell books or tickets to a movie.

But here I am, babe. You’d be proud, as you ever were, that I am not only an independent woman, raising one hell of an amazing daughter, but, I am helping to run our obstacle course group, working full time, keeping myself in shape and our home under control. I am making more time for friends and family, and I am living this life I was granted.

I miss your beard hair in my sink. I miss all of your nearly gone body wash and shampoo bottles in the shower. I miss the way you smelled after mowing the grass or rolling around on the floor playing with the dogs. I miss the way you would try to lock Megan or myself into a room by tying things to door knobs, or trying to play pranks. I miss all the things that made you who you were.

Forever love is forever, and that’s what we share. No matter the shift I feel within myself, It’s not a change in my love for you, at all. It’s a growing change. An amazing,  unbelievable growth within myself, that I never ever would have thought possible.

Until we meet again,

With all of my heart,

Tabbie

Hopefully the quality of my video is okay. I had to screen-record because I cannot download it. This was at The Life Celebration.

I Used to be a Christian

“The other day, when I was reading something you posted, it hit me. YOU are the writer!”

 

I know, the title is going to get everyone’s panties in a wad.

Chill out.

Read it.

You’ll get it.

I am 36 years old.

I have one HELL of a story to tell.

I’m not sure I’ll make money off of it, but it I do, I’ll have to A: change the names of the people so I don’t have to get their consent to tarnish their names, or B: Get consent from people I love dearly, to drag their names through the mud, because it’s a part of my story.

I remember when I was little. I remember going to church and loving Sunday school. I remember coloring and playing with other kids, praying at night for all of my loved ones and even all the strangers I never met, and never would meet to be safe. I was naive. I believed that if I prayed for EVERYONE, everyone would be safe. Then, one day, I was in shorts and a t-shirt, accepting Jesus into my heart as my lord and savior, as I was dunked into a pool of water in front of a congregation.

I was 7.

I remember, because I remember the look on my dad’s face when I told him I wanted to be baptized. It was a look I craved. A look of acceptance, of love, pride and happiness. I believed that Jesus was good and God loved all of mankind.

The older I got, the more confused I became. It wasn’t because of outside influences. It was because of everything I had read in the Bible.

I’m not going to bash the Bible, or God, or Jesus, or Christians.

I guess, I am writing this to say a few things. I am one of those “think outside the box” types of person. I know. You probably never would have guessed it, am I right? ha!

I have read the Bible. I have read it cover to cover a few times.

It. Makes. NO. Sense. It’s about as contradictory as anything could be.

But that’s okay. MOST of it is good guidelines for how to be a good person.

Jesus was this totally rad dude, who helped poor people, sex addicts, drug addicts, thieves and more! He totally loved them and taught them how to be good people. He proved to them that the choices they were making weren’t the only choices set out for them. He showed them that, although a rough road, a possible road. Right?

Totally cool guy. Loving, accepting, nurturing.

One of those guys you aspire to be like. Right?

Well, you don’t have to BELIEVE the Bible, to believe in the main character. Right?

Either way, my “faith” is different than it was when I was a child.

I have lived. I have observed. I have survived, and have stayed pretty damn level headed in the process.

At the point where one would finally break, I, instead,  keep striving for better. Not to GET something better, but to BE something better.

When I was a child, I believed that I would forever be protected. Nothing bad could happen to cause heartache or sadness, or the things that I have experienced through my 36 years of life.

Boy, was I wrong.

I say something that I know may piss off a lot of people, but I believe it one hundred percent.

Everything happens for a reason.

I’m sure many people who are grieving right now want to reach through their screens and slap the ever-loving shit out of me, right now.

I believe it. You do not have to. But, I do. I always will.

I REALLY met Mitch at a point in my life where I was really ready to call it quits with dating. I honestly never wanted to see another man in a dating manner again. (That was my dramatic teenage mind)

He walked into McDonald’s, smiled his brilliant smile at me, and told me I was coming to his birthday party.

You read that right. He didn’t ask if I’d go. He told me I was going.

“Hey, What are you doing this weekend? Oh? going to my birthday party. Okay, We’ll pick you up at 6!”

I was stunned. I was shocked. I was ALREADY in love with that boy, and he didn’t even know. We were both 17 years old.

He walked into that McDonald’s on the most perfect night, with the best “invite” to a birthday party I had ever received.

I think if God is real, he laughed when I swore to all things holy that I would NEVER name my child Megan, when I was 15 years old…

Que the laughter…

My favorite human, aka my daughter, is Megan. I can’t even imagine her with a different name.

Just as I remember the first time he “asked” me out, I remember our last night together. I remember what he had for dinner. I remember what movie we watched. I remember the words he spoke, as if they were gospel.

I remember his hand as he held mine during that movie.

I remember the next day, when I walked… ran to the doors of the FedEx Hub only to be dragged into an office and told that he was gone. I remember thinking “There’s no way there is a god. There’s no way a god would take such a man from this earth. No way!”

I always joked with Mitch about how I didn’t remember life before him. I think I phrased it wrong. I remembered life before him, but it felt like another lifetime. Like everything was happening as it should .

When he died, I had that same feeling. Everything is falling into place. Everything is exactly as it should be.

I hate it. Megan hates it. Our families hate it.

But that feeling. Gawwwwwd that feeling.

I’ve thought so many times that if anyone knew how I felt, how I felt as thought this is meant to be, I’d be looked at as heartless.

Now, though, I know I am not. I know my family and my friends, my coworkers and my past coworkers know that I am not heartless.

Mitch, I believe, completed his mission here. Whatever his mission was, he completed it, and he did it FAST.

I can tell you that whoever was supposed to learn from him, learned well.

Whatever it was he taught, he taught it without knowing he did.

I feel like I was a part of his mission, but definitely not the whole of it.

He taught me to be kind, even when I didn’t want to be. He taught me to see everyone’s point of view, and not take sides. He taught me that I have the ability to be amazing, I just needed to put forth the effort. (still trying, babe!) He taught me, most of all, that good men did still exist. He taught me that there were really still good fathers. He taught me that I am so much stronger than I ever imagined I could be.

I could write a book about how much like Jesus Mitch was. He never “laid hands on” and “healed” people like the Bible says Jesus did, but he sure did heal people with his words, his kindness, his acceptance, and his love. He talked to everyone, and he helped everyone.

So, again, I say: I used to be a Christian.

Now, I no longer align myself with any one religion, but, I believe that something is out there. Something is in charge and we are mere pawns in a game.

Am I winning?

Am I losing?

I guess I will only know when I pass on to the next realm.

Until then, I will continue my path of love and acceptance. I will not intentionally harm anyone. I will cherish my family and friends. I will teach kindness, empathy, and happiness through example.

 

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Dating, Alcohol, Sex, and the not so Average Widow.

I mentioned before, about how a majority of men are either scared to date a widow, or they are all about it. I talked about how they are scared, because a widow will be attached too quickly, because she is used to being married. And I talked about the ideas that a lot of men have, about widows and being horny, or “thirsty” is the term I’ve heard.

For me, I dated a bit, because I wanted to have fun. I am still young. I am still a sexually functioning human, and I do quite enjoy having sex. However, I am not “thirsty”. I can live without it, for a while. Sex isn’t a necessary thing.

Now, I know, I may turn some heads, or upset people, or I may have people say things along the lines of “OMG! Yes, girl!” With this blog. I have to make it known.

I went into the dating scene, with my head on, a little askew. I was fine with that, though. I wasn’t looking for a replacement for my husband (I never will), I wasn’t looking a boyfriend, (so much work involved with that), and I wasn’t trying to keep any one guy for very long. I wasn’t interested in “catching feelings”, so the way to avoid that, was to not sleeping with the same guy for a long time.

Now, I had a “young one”, who was good at keeping things separate, for sure. He was around for about 7 months. Then, one day, my feelings were hurt, when he paid no attention to me. *GASP* right? I had to remove that situation from my life.

I met another man. A very sweet, very dorky man. I liked him. A lot. He, quite literally, was the opposite of everything I look for, physically, in a man. We met at a race. We all met up after a race, at a brewery, and had a few drinks. I had 2 and needed to sit a little while longer, before driving home. Everyone left, except him. He said he would stay with me, so I could drink my water and get home safely.

I should have never started anything with him. I knew it would be a bad idea. It was fun, while it lasted, though.

I honestly remember laying in bed with him, with my head on his chest, thinking, “I should call it off, right now. RIGHT NOW!”

I didn’t listen to my inner voice. Sometimes, I am not very bright. That’s okay, though.

One night, we were texting (because that’s the only way anyone every communicates these days), and he told me that he met a couple online, and they wanted to meet him… And he was seriously thinking about doing it.

I was hurt. I couldn’t understand why, if a person tells you that you’re great, fantastic, perfect, love spending time with you, etc, someone would continue looking elsewhere for sex. I still don’t understand that. After I told him he could go to them, or he could continue with me, but he couldn’t have both, he swore I was enough, and he’d rather just chill with me anyway.  We hung out, one more time, and I knew were weren’t going to continue the benefits part of our friendship. He was weird, like I trapped him or guilted him into hanging out with me. (how I felt he behaved) He didn’t answer his texts like he normally did, and when he would answer, they were 1-4 word responses (not normal for him). I called it off. I said no more and told him to go live his life, and not to let me hold him back. (there’s more to this story, but it’s getting too long). So, I chose to end the benefits part of that friendship, before he did something stupid, and we are still friends.

I felt a bit unworthy after that happened, simply because I was made to feel like I wasn’t enough for someone. I really started to feel down about it. Like, I even cried a couple times. Ugh. I hate admitting that.

So, the point to the very long story was this. I came to a realization. I realized I have a part of me back, that I didn’t think would come back. I didn’t think I would ever want to be in a relationship again. Not after losing Mitch. Not after having my heart shattered into millions upon millions of pieces, with his death.

But I do. One day, I do. Coming into this realization, I decided to stop seeing people, at all. I deleted the dating apps from my phone and  I am not pushing the dating scene. I am just focusing on my health and my family, and my career.

Sex is great, but sex with someone who cares so very deeply for you, and wants to be with you, regularly (and the feeling is mutual) is so much more satisfying.

I know, I put alcohol in the title. I had gotten to a point where I was drinking every weekend, and sometimes during the week. Not because I felt like I needed to be drunk or anything, but just because I had someone to drink with. It had become so frequent, though. I felt like it was a bit much.

I quit drinking so regularly. My last alcoholic beverage was at midnight New Year’s eve/New year’s celebratory champagne. I may have a couple at bigger events, like our big KCOCR season kickoff party next weekend. But, I’ll only have one because I found spiked sparkling water! (low sugar, low carbs, low everything!) Since I am focusing more on my health and ocr training, alcohol isn’t a thing I feel like I need. It hinders the ability to become a better athlete, so, as little as possible is best.

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Dear Mitch,

 

I know you are probably looking down at me wondering “what he hell are you DOING?” OR “Don’t! Not him! He’s a moron!”

Don’t worry. I’m not.

Not with him, or with him.

It’s okay. You remember, I like guy friends. I always had more male friends than female friends, growing up.

I think I have an equal amount of guy/girl friends, now.

But I do like dating. I like meeting all the new people, which is weird, but not too weird, since you know me.

I miss you, tremendously. I have this empty spot in my bed, that only you could fill. I prefer not sleeping next to someone, even if we have sex. I send them home, or to the couch. No, I’m not whoring it up. I just have sex every now and then with one guy.

You’re probably laughing at me, or wondering what the fuck is happening in my head because he’s so much younger. But, you also know, I have always said “If he’s old enough to buy me a drink… Legally… then he’s old enough for me!” Of course, back then, I was referring to the celebrities on TV (cough cough Zac Efron cough cough). haha!

I miss talking about the hot guys on TV and having your unnecessary, jealous stare. It was so funny. You would get so offended about the celebrities I would never meet. I would do it on purpose, just to get a rise out of you. Why? Because I LOVED that you were jealous. Your slight jealousy was comforting. I knew I’d never lose you. At least not to another woman.

I appreciate you. I appreciate all of the patience you held when I was freaking out, right after we got married. When I got “cold feet” post wedding vows. When “forever” sounded like a life sentence. You were there, but not all over me. You allowed me the space I needed, to clear my mind and really figure out who I was, and what I wanted.

Can you even believe that I thought I was a lesbian? I still laugh at that! I was REALLY freaking out about being married. Then, I reminded myself, it was you. YOU. The best of the best. No one other human on this planet could handle me. Not like you did. You spoiled me, in so many ways. Not materialistically, either.

You spoiled me with love. You showed me that good men DO exist, and let me tell you, I can spot them. You spoiled me by doing for me. After a long day at work, you made me mixed, fruity drinks, and ran me a bath with epsom salt. Not because you were trying to get in my pants, but because you loved me. You wanted me to be happy and felt that I deserved to relax.

Oh, remember when we gave each-other massages? That was so long ago. Like in our early 20s! haha! it got to a point where you would give me a massage first, then I would fall asleep and never give one back. Big mistake on my part, because you finally quit giving me massages, and I developed carpal tunnel.

Remember the Christmas 2003, when we decided it would be funny to tell everyone that we were having a baby? hahahahaha!! Oh man! That was so hilarious. Then, in January, we were pregnant. Easy as that. We found out March 3rd, but, still. It happened so fast.

I remember the conversation we had. We were on I35 in 75th street exit. It was Christmas, 2003. We decided we were strong enough, together, to handle ANYTHING. We decided to stop PREVENTING pregnancy.

Oh man. It happened so fast. We had the most perfect little baby. Oh,  I bet you’re freaking out, when you see her, now. I do have to say, at least she’s covered! She has a mouth like her mother, and the wit of her father. She will go far in life.

I am so glad you were able to stick around long enough for her to know, and remember how amazing you were. I am so glad that I won the bet that got me a baby before I turned 22 (actually 18 days after my 22nd birthday, but who’s counting?) If you won that bet, I would have been a widowed mom to a 4 year old! It goes to show that my belief in “everything happens for a reason” is real. I needed to have a preteen. I needed a well rounded kiddo. I needed a kid who understands far beyond her years. And that’s what we had. We had the perfect-for-us child. Weren’t we lucky? Aren’t I lucky, in that way?

Everyone always says, “I’m so sorry for you!”

I bite my tongue, because I want to ask why. “Why are you sorry that I was able to spend all that time with the most amazing man on earth?” I got 16.5 years with you! That was half your lifetime!

There are so many women who don’t have the luxury I have, of saying, “I found my perfect match. My perfect love. Someone who loved me unconditionally.” I have that! I had that. I was able to feel that. I was able to live that. I was so fucking lucky!

It’s so weird to say that, though. People are always so good at twisting words to make things sound bad.

I was so fucking lucky in the way that I met you, had you, loved and was loved by you.

I was unlucky that you died.

But the beauty is that I was able to know you. I was able to have and to hold you.

You taught me how a man should treat a woman. Hell, you taught Meg how a woman deserved to be treated.

Amazing.

You will forever live in my mind and heart, and the hearts of so many who knew you, as amazing.

Ah

Maze

Ing!

My inspiration to be a better human.

My everything.

I miss you.

I am so glad that I had the opportunity to be graced with your presence.

I am so happy that I had the ability to be loved and spoiled by you.

Thank you.

Thank you for teaching me.

When you died, I thought I was done. I would never get to a point in my life where I could allow feelings for anyone again. It isn’t worth it, I would think to myself. I was mentally crippled by the loss of your presence in my life.

My mind said “WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING??? How do I DO this?” I also had thoughts along the lines of “no one will want me.” But I didn’t care. I bought baggy clothes and hid my body so no-one would even WANT to look.

Those thoughts are pointless.

More importantly, I want you to know, that I hope you are proud of who I am, who I have become. I hope you are proud of my strength and ability to find happiness in such an awful experience.

There are days when I wake up in the morning, and really try to wrap my mind around the fact that you’re no longer here.

Every time I have that thought, my entire body reacts. It’s like I KNOW it is true, but my mind and my soul still refuse to believe.

That’s the impact you’ve left in my life.

With that, I must go to bed.

I will love you always.

I will forever cherish the memories we shared.

You will forever be in my mind and heart.

Love you always,

Ms. Tabbie Wood

 

 

 

 

Toxic Humans and Me.

Today, I did something. I deleted and blocked a person from my life, that was toxic, to me. I decided to test the person first. I was right with my suspicions. Even though I know there’s no respect for me from said person, I will respect their privacy, and not share their name. But here goes!

Hello? Who the hell would come at me, expecting to have even the slightest chance at mentally abusing me? Who. The FUCK. do you think I am? Let me spell it out…

I’m the woman who had a rough start at life, being pulled from my parents and put into foster care, in first grade.

I went to 13 different schools, and didn’t graduate.

Lived on my own from age 15-17, couch surfing, and working, trying my damndest to stay alive.

I am the woman who met the man of her dreams, married him, had a baby, and Created a BEAUTIFUL family.

I took my adult ass to get my GED, then went to college, so I could set a better example for my baby girl.

I never gave up on my career. When I wasn’t being respected and given the pay I knew I was worth, for my position, I left.

When I felt as though I wasn’t getting paid my worth at my next job, I applied elsewhere to see what I could be making, and fought for it. I got it.

I am the woman who lost her husband, unexpectedly, on a Wednesday morning, while he was at work, my child at school, and myself too busy to realize he never read my text that morning.

I have been through hell. I walk through hell regularly. I don’t need toxic people in my life, and I WILL remove you.

I am a positive, uplifting, forgiving human. I love people. I love my family, my friends and my career. I believe everyone deserves a second chance.

I ALSO believe my opinion matters. Your opinions matter. Even if I disagree with them, they matter, because they are YOURS!

But know, I don’t fucking play.

Learning and Growing

 

As a widow, I know, it’s something we must all do. We must all learn and continue to grow as humans.

Our attitudes towards life and all that accompanies it, it what gets us to who we are, as humans. We can be good or we can be bad. Some of us are bad, and don’t even realize it. Some are so good, and don’t realize it.

Learning from the past is the best thing about being human. We know the outcome, once we have done something.

Think back to when you were a kid, and you heard someone say “if you mix vinegar and baking soda, it’ll bubble up, all over the place!”

Every single one of us HAD to try it out, as soon as we got home. It wasn’t something we were going to believe until we saw it with our own eyes.

As adults, it’s the same and its different. We learn how to balance our social life, family life, and work life. We have to LEARN it. It doesn’t come naturally, and it is not easy. So many times something or someone gets the shaft. It’s never intentional, as we are human, and we are continually learning. It’s a never-ending cycle of life, living and being.

Will we ever be who we are supposed to be, completely? Will we ever achieve complete self?

I don’t think so. I think with every part of life, we continue to grow.

I met a couple, recently. I was on a dating app, (yes, please don’t give me hell. It totally passes the time, and mostly makes me laugh, because some people are so incredibly ridiculous. But that’s a story for another time), and I matched up with this guy. He was kind of cute, and I swiped that I thought he was cute. He already liked me, so we matched up. I had to send the first message, and I did, because what could it hurt? I asked what he was looking for from that site, he said a friend with benefits. I chatted a bit more, and realized he was funny. He was kind of interesting. Then, a bomb was dropped.

“I have a girlfriend and we are in an open relationship.”

*GASP*

“I’m not into couples, man, but we can be friends.” Was what I told him. I was so curious, and always wanted to ask someone about how and why they chose to be in an open relationship. I asked so many questions, and he answered. He said “it’s human nature to want to have sex with multiple people.” I interjected, there. I told him that I was with the same man for sixteen and a half years, all the way up to the day he died, and never had the urge to actually step outside of our marriage for sex, so this boggled my mind.

I have zero interest in having a boyfriend/relationship with anyone, but making friends is fun. No kidding. They texted me one night, and asked if I wanted to meet them for dinner. I said sure, and headed to the restaurant.

I met her and him and we are all friends, now. I went out with them the other night, and ended up with them while they met another couple.

I promise. This is about growing. No, I am not sleeping with this couple, so no worries.

Here I am, the 5th wheel, curious as hell, about this new couple. Those of you who know me, know I can’t keep my mouth shut for too long, especially after I’ve had beer, and even worse, when I am curious. I really am curious.

This couple was cute. Adorable even! They seemed to be even more curious than I was. I could tell they were new to the “open thing” but didn’t want to ask, outright, because I am not dating these two either. ha!

I listened as the 4 talked about this and that, and life and their jobs, and all the small talk.  I was giggling inside. My friends were asking their new friends how long they had been together and how long they had been married. No one asked the question I was dying to know! So, I asked.

I leaned forward in my chair, and asked, “and, how long have you been open?”

All four heads swung my direction, like “did she just ask that?” After I asked, I wondered if it was a question you aren’t supposed to ask. Then, I realized I didn’t care if I was or wasn’t supposed to ask. I was curious, and they were adorable, and potentially going to date my friends. Or maybe just sleep with them? I don’t know? So, they responded.

They said, almost shyly, “um. one month?” So, I asked another question.

“How many dates have you had since becoming open?”

She had one, and he hadn’t had any.

I feel like, the encounter with these people, all four of them, is allowing my brain to grow, and become more accepting of a human beings.

I have learned that people can legitimately be in a relationship, and be completely committed, yet still have sex with other people. It may not be my idea of a perfect relationship, and it may not be your idea of a perfect relationship, but who cares? They are honest with each other, and they are honest with everyone they meet. If everyone knows everything, and everyone is agreeable, then why can’t they do what they want to do? Right?

I had never even thought of an open relationship as something people can manage to live with, however, after meeting this couple, and learning their ability to be 100% honest with each-other all the time, it made me believe that there are actually honest people in the world. And that’s fucking amazing!

I am not saying that my friends aren’t honest, or anything like that. So don’t get me wrong.

I just come from a group of people who are with one person, and sleeping with people outside of your current relationship is frowned upon, or looked down on. If one of my friend’s husbands slept with another woman, it would be considered “cheating” because it wouldn’t be known by both parties.

It is such a touchy topic, I know. But, I am a learner, and I am growing as a human being. I thoroughly enjoy other humans and learning the why behind who they are. I do not judge them, and I don’t degrade them. I embrace them. Of course, there are lines, ya know. Being of age and of the same consenting species are big musts. So please, don’t try to use that with this.

My favorite thing, in life, is meeting people, and hearing their stories. It’s fascinating to learn why people are the way they are.

I highly suggest, next time you encounter someone who believes differently than you do, or lives a lifestyle you can’t even imagine, to ask them questions. Learn about it. Open your mind to understand that just because they are different from you, doesn’t mean they are wrong. If it isn’t illegal, and isn’t hurting people, why should we get mad? Why should we have such strong feelings opposing people’s lifestyles?

 

Learn.

Grow.

Be a better human today, than you were yesterday.

Kindness Matters.