I keep thinking if I run fast enough, occupy my life and mind with enough activities, then the reality won’t be true. The moment I slow down I am overwhelmed by emotions and the next thing I know I’m driving 75 with blurred vision.

“You know Summer, you can’t do this forever. You need to deal with this, have a break down. It’s not healthy to do what you are doing.” Caring words I know to be true, spoken by a loved one.

“Maybe tomorrow,” is all I reply. 

Today is tomorrow.

You’d think with as many break-ups as I’ve been through I’d be a pro at going through them. Which, maybe I am. Only this time it’s so much harder because it wasn’t a two month let’s try this out sort of relationship. This was a you’re the one I am going to spend the rest of my life with kind of relationship.

Cue the water works.

Rather than publicly hash out the details of our break-up I wanted to write about all the ways I have NOT been dealing with it over the past week. You see, when you are in a relationship you get used to always checking in with your significant other. Not in a controlling way, more in a how was your day way. Now that I have no one to check in with, I thought I’d just check in with you, Internet.

ED and I broke up on a Monday night. It still seems so weird to say.

Tuesday I took a half day off work (which was a life saver because I couldn’t stop crying, nor could I concentrate to save my life) and went boating with my parents, Karina the Russian, and our Russian children.

Being at the lake was theraputic for me. I have gone boating every summer since I can remember. There is a bit of magic in the mountain water and for brief moments of time I was able to forget that my life had just been drastically altered. 

Wednesday I made it through an entire day of work, went to class, and went to the 311 concert with Karina the Russian and my sister Staci.

I drove seperately. I said it was because I had to work early the next day – which I did – but it was also because I knew I wouldn’t be able to fake happy all night long, especially since the last time I saw 311 in concert was with ED. 

I called up my friend Sarah on the drive home to talk me off of a ledge.

Thursday I went to dinner and then to the Twilight Concert (a free outdoor concert put on every Thursday during the summer) with some co-workers and Karina the Russian. It got done fairly early and despite my co-worker taunting me that I don’t know how to let go and just have fun, I decided to go home. Only I didn’t. The thought of going home to an empty house was too much so I deviated my course into the arms of my wonderful friend Susan who opened the door with a large glass of wine in hand for me. She let me cry until the wine dried up the tears.

Friday I went back up to the lake with my family for some more water therapy.

Friday night was my cousin’s birthday (Happy Birthday Emmie!). The day before she had text to invite ED and I to come out for her birthday. I had a minor break down at the realization of how many people have known us as a package deal and how many people I am going to have to tell that we broke up. But I digress.

I met Emmie, my sister Staci and a group of Emmie’s friends for a few drinks. Can I just say that I was soooo not ready to be at a popular bar downtown on a Friday night? Within the first ten minutes of arriving I saw three people who I had previously dated. Obviously Salt Lake City is too small of a town. Luckily I had my sister watching over me and survived without being auctioned off at the meat market. I spent that night curled up next to her in bed, again not wanting to be home alone.

Saturday I did laundry and looked for a new place to live (more on that later this week). Then I went to my parents house for a BBQ and to light fireworks. For those of you reading this who are not from Utah, the 24th of July is Pioneer Day. It’s celebrated like a second 4th of July only we are lighting fireworks to celebrate our state being settled by the Mormon pioneers instead of the nations independence.

Saturday night I went home alone, in bed by 10 and completely sober.

Sunday… my day to deal with things. I spent my morning cleaning, writing and reflecting then took a mid-day break for lunch and shopping with Sarah. My evening was spent with vodka and sappy movies.

What? We all cope differently.

From this post I am sure you can see that I have the worlds greatest friends and family. They have been in a constant rotation of checking on me to make sure I have enough alcohol and moral support. I feel so fortunate that they are in my life. I would be a wreck without them.

One week down, forever to go.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Dating debating, ED is not Emotionally Disturbed, Emotions get the best of me, Loved One(s), NOT light and fluffy, Out and About

This week on Post Secret there was two conflicting messages that spoke to me. I quickly jotted them down to come back to when I had more time to digest exactly what they spoke to me.

The first said:

“I have found the love that makes me forget.”

Followed by:

“I’m searching for the love that will make it OK for me to remember.”

Forgetting and remembering, such an interesting conundrum.

***
Over the past two years, I have shared a lot of personal information about myself, but some experiences are not meant to be shared on blogs. Some experiences are only meant to be shared in the comfort of a paid professionals’ office, while curled up on their couch with a blanket.

These particular experiences take time to accept that they really did happen to you, it wasn’t just a bad dream, and it will never be undone.

After certain experiences you let life stop. You spend a lot of time just breathing in, and breathing out. You take baby steps forward until one day you find someone patient and warm who will never really know, but just accepts that something happened, and you are a little more fragile because of it. They don’t ask. They just love you anyway.

I don’t want a love who makes me forget. My trials have helped make me the strong woman I am today.

I don’t want a love to grant me permission to remember. Only I can make it OK for me to remember, on my own terms, should I ever find a reason.

Everyone’s experiences are different, and everyone copes differently. I do not pretend to know the circumstances of the anonymous submitters on Post Secret. I just know that sometimes you come across something unexpected that takes you back to when you let life stop, and for once, it was not as painful to go back to.

One deep breath and life continued on. I have such a grateful heart for the growth I have gained from my experiences and for finding a love who doesn’t fully know, but never asks.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Emotions get the best of me, TMI Friday

I hurt.

I hate when I hurt.

It sends me into all sorts of upsetness.

Back in December I started researching a new nutrition plan to help with my Endometriosis. I began working it into my everyday life, little by little, in the hopes that a holistic approach to my condition would be the answer. Right now I’m buying organic everything, which, holy shit is expensive! I’ve cut out all the “bad” foods (well most of them anyway) and I am making an honest go at it.

I mean, last week I turned down a FREE asiago cheese bagel for chrissake!

Truth be told, I’ve felt really good for the most part. But right now, I feel like there are multiple knives shoved in my lower abdomen and each knife is getting twisted at a regular interval just so I don’t forget they are there. I don’t even know if that makes sense. I JUST EFFING HURT!

Why do I hurt? I mean, outside of the obvious endometriosis thing.

I can’t say entirely for sure, but I think it has to due with the fact I went to see the Utah JAZZ play.

You heard me.

The tickets were amazing! We were in a suite catered with yummy food which was entirely NOT on my nutrition plan. I ate it anyway.  I washed it down with two glasses of “non-approved” wine too.

Pain woke me up the next morning.

Is that really it? Is my body–after less than a month of mostly clean eating–so upset that I dared eat a meatball and some cheesy artichoke dip, that it would cause me this much pain? Really?

I know I am giving myself a bit of a pity party, but that? That is pure BULLSHIT!

I’m sorry, but as I sit here, waiting for the pain pills to kick in and pounding out my frustrations on the key board, I can’t help but feel the way I do. Anyone who has read this blog will know I try to stay positive for the most part, but right now I am tired. I am flat out tired of feeling this way. And what’s worse is I know I am exacerbating my symptoms by getting upset about them. Stress is another trigger. So is working out, which I totally did.

I hate this. I feel like I just can’t win.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Emotions get the best of me, Healthy shmelthy, Just me, NOT light and fluffy

***“TMI Friday” (Too Much Information Friday) is a weekly feature on Blogfully Yours where I hover the line of “over-sharing”. It’s like therapy for me, without the expense.***

Jealousy…

I’m going to start by saying I hate that I am even writing this. I hate that I am even feeling this messed up feeling in the first place. Like, who am I? I have never been the jealous type. Ever.

Seriously.

But for some crazy ass reason–which mind you , I KNOW is not logical, rational, or based on any sort of realistic anything–I. Get. Jealous!

Like, “cut-a-bitch” jealous.

Of course I don’t “cut-a-bitch”. Because I am not a crazy person. Plus I don’t carry knives on me. But when I am working out at the gym where ED trains, and he has his hands guiding some young flirty girls form? I have to start counting backwards from 10… sometimes 20.

I know. I know!

He is a personal trainer… it is his job… he loves me and would never do anything to hurt me. I KNOW!

But does it make me not see red? Does it make me not feel the way I feel?

No.

What it does do,  is help me to keep my cool and let it go. I fully recognize that it is MY issue. It’s not ED’s fault. It’s not his client(s) fault. This one is all on me. Working out at the same gym where ED trains people is a new thing. I think I just need a little time to get used to it is all.

The last thing I want to do is drive away ED’s clients because they are uncomfortable with the crazy chick in the corner giving them the death-stare.

At least, I’m pretty sure that’s the last thing I want…

*sigh*

Jealousy? She’s a major bitch.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Dating debating, Emotions get the best of me, TMI Friday, Uncategorized

However, for me, January has traditionally been the harder month.

You see, I really like my relationship and I don’t want to run from it. I also don’t want to screw it up. So when I felt my darling ED pulling away for unbeknown reasons (at least unbeknown to me), I fought every instinct in my body not to do the same. I wanted to play the stubborn, immature card and not call or text or be “unavailable” to hang out. I wanted to protect myself from getting hurt, even though I knew ED was not trying to do so.

The holidays are just rough. They effect all of us in different ways. I GET THAT. But sometimes I am irrational and think I am the only one allowed to have a hard time. It somehow escaped my realm of reasoning that ED could be having a hard time, and it had absolutely nothing to do with me.

Very mature, right? Go me!

When we finally had a night away from obligations and parties, we sat down and had a real heart to heart. He talked, I cried. But most importantly, we communicated our feelings instead of making assumptions or pulling away.

In short, I didn’t run.

ED and I are far from perfect, but this is relationship of ours is quite possibly the most grown-up relationship I have ever been in and tomorrow night, we are celebrating our one year anniversary.

Guess we must be doing something right.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Emotions get the best of me, TMI Friday

“Summer, this is Jennifer, Zach’s mom. I don’t know quite how to say this… but Zach passed away. They found him yesterday morning. He died the same way his sister died. I found your number in his phone and I knew you would want to know. I know how much he cared about you…”

***

I met Zach my sophomore year of high school at the first “sock hop” social event. His bright eyes, playful smile and sweet personality lured me in and instantly I knew we would be friends.

That was 14 years ago.

Zach picking me up for "Spring Formal". It was girls choice, but I was only 15 and couldn't drive.

He is so adorably young here.

Zachary Hall, my oldest and dearest friend, passed away Friday, November 6, 2009.

I got the phone call 30 minutes before I was supposed to run my first 5k.

His passing has been one of the hardest thing I have ever had to face. I can not tell you just how bad my heart is aching right now. I have lost one of my closest friends, a man who has been there for me through thick and thin, a man who has always been “just a friend” but who loved me, and would literally do anything for me. I know this not only from countless examples of his actions, but because he never failed to tell me so.

I am at a loss for what to write. I’ve started this post several times but my words never seem adequate to express my joy for having him in my life; my anger with him for leaving so soon; my sorrow for not getting to say goodbye; my tribute to him for all that he was to me.

I have so many fond memories of him. In high school, besides going to Spring Formal with me, he took me to my first ever formal dance. It was called “Spartonian Ball”.

I'm in flats and he wore his hair 3" taller.

I thought the dance was more formal than it actually was and told him to get a tuxedo. He was the only guy at the dance, outside of the wait staff, wearing one. I was so embarrassed, but he just laughed about it and told me not to worry.

I see this picture and I want so bad to call him and laugh about his hair and baby face, my black nylons and ugly shoes. I want to reminisce and see if he remembers how his mom had to pin the boutonniere on for me or where we went to dinner or if we did an activity after the dance. I want to tell him thank you for wearing a tux because I asked him to – we were 16 and I know neither of us had money.

But I can’t…

I can’t call him because he is gone. He is gone and there is nothing I can do about it. I feel so helpless. I know people will say to just hold on to the memories, and believe me, I am trying. But he is gone, and my heart hurts! Just saying “he is gone” sounds so absurd to me. Why am I even writing this post? Zachs not gone. He can’t be. He is my Zach. How could he let drugs take him from me? How many times did I yell at him? How many times did I tell him that he was worrying me? How many times did he tell me not to worry? This isn’t right. Nothing feels right about it. It’s all wrong! We were supposed to go to lunch together. I missed his call. Why did I miss his call? Why didn’t he answer when I called him back? Why didn’t I try him again? How can he be gone? Why can’t I just call him?

Zach and me camping, Memorial Day 2008. Our last photo together.

I’m sorry this post is all over the place. Maybe it is too soon to have tried to write this. I had planned to tell so many great stories; driving his dad’s fork lift in his shop, drinking vodka in his garage with my sister until we puked and he had to carry us home wrapped in his blanket, his confession about why he really could not take me to Sr. Ball (ten years after the fact!), our failed attempt at community college together, moving me out of a very bad situation after I hadn’t talked to him in six months, and how he was such a loyal selfless friend.

Maybe I’ll write those stories another day… in my hand written journal. I’ll place it on the shelf next to my high school journal, or better yet, next to the entry where I first mention meeting Zach… at the Sock Hop.

Zachary Hall I am going to miss you!

Blogfully yours,

Summer

PS – in case you were wondering, I ran the race. It was incredibly hard and if ED hadn’t of been there I would have been hyperventilating, sobbing uncontrollably in the bushes 1/4 mile in. As it was, I finished with a time of 31:36 and saved my sob fest until I got to my sister’s, 15 minutes after the race.

Emotions get the best of me, Loved One(s), NOT light and fluffy

I just did…

Blue eyes, full pouty lips and red hair!

In December of 97, my aunt passed away due to a horrible car accident. She left behind one daughter, my cousin Steph.

Since Steph’s father was never in the picture, she came to live with my family. She was only 12 years old.

As I am sure you can imagine, coming to live with a new family after just loosing your mother was not easy. My sisters and I did our best to include her, even calling her our “kiss-tor” (cousin + sister somehow equals “kiss-tor”).

Through the years we have had our shares of ups and downs and even though we are coming out of a 2+ year down, I have always loved her and wanted the best for her.

Sunday night Steph came over to my parents house and brought along her two beautiful kids. It was the first time I got to meet the adorable 3 month old Treyson.

I will have to get a picture of baby and momma together because it is actually quite comical. You see, Steph is half African American but her children are as white as can be! She laughs and say when she is at the store people think she is their babysitter – not their mother and that apparently she makes a great incubator for children to look exactly like their father!

Man I have missed her and her sense of humor! Here’s hoping I don’t go another 2 years before seeing them again! I hate that I’ve missed so much of my nephews lives.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Emotions get the best of me, Loved One(s)

Today is my boyfriend ED’s birthday. Today he turns the ripe ol’ age of 30.

That’s right, Dirty Thirty.

Having been his girlfriend for the past seven months I know the very last thing in the world he would want for me to do is to gush any personal information about him. He is a very private person and I am, well I am a blogger.

Nuff said?

However, because it is his birthday I can not do nothing. It is my duty as a blogging girlfriend to either gush about him or embarass him. Luckily, by gushing I am able to accomplish both.

Things I love about ED:

- His 15 year old sense of humor. Sadly we are a lot alike in this area. Although recently I did have ask him to limit the amount of “your mom” jokes to under 10 per day.

- His old fashion values. ED is a country boy and he is chalk full of country boy values. He is chivalrous but believes men and women are equals. He always open the door for me and if he saw a stranded motorist, he would be the guy who would stop.

- The way he encourages and believes in me even when I don’t believe in myself. If it was not for him I may never have pushed myself any harder or further with my college education than an associates degree.

- How he likes to take care of me – mentally and physically. He listens to my rambling stories and patiently waits for me to get to the point in my long round about way and he hugs me when I cry. He keeps me healthy and active and I never go hungry when we are together.

- He has accepted me, along with all my quirks and emotional baggage, and loves me a surprisingly large amount. Sometimes I am shocked by the abnormally sweet things he does and he will ask me, “when are you going to realize just how much I love you?”

- Lastly, I love who I am with him. We have all been in those relationships where you feel like you lose yourself or you don’t like the person you are becoming. With ED I feel like I am me… but the best version of me I have yet to know.

Happy birthday baby! Here’s to being together and loving each other for a very long time, and by a very long time I mean “as far into the foreseeable future as possible”… which means forever.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Dating debating, Emotions get the best of me, Loved One(s), Uncategorized

My  older sister Sara got married last Saturday. If her bachelorette party was supposed to serve as an indicator as to what the wedding was to be like, it missed the mark. Then again, there is not really much that could have prepared me for this.

I find myself at a slight loss for words when thinking of how to describe the wedding, mainly because so much of it I did not understand. For example, why was the minister dressed in a white robe and a Chinese hat?

Why did the groom have a sword and LED lights sewn into his tuxedo?

Why is there a woman dressed in green tights and a pink tutu?

While I was left confused in some areas, I was in awe in others.

The wedding guests, which was a mixture of my conservative, garment-wearing relatives and the free spirited friends of the happy couple, all sat in a large circle. A mixture of tattoos, mo-hawks and costumes with an intermittent splash of confused, slightly uncomfortable individuals.

I watched as the minister went to the 4 directional tables set up around the circle and explained the significance of the earth, fire, water and air and how they relate to marriage.

Then music started and the groom, Rob, joined by my sister, the beautiful bride, danced their way into the circle. I didn’t recognize the song, but it was definitely not “Here Comes the Bride”, it was a million times better because it was a song that had significant meaning to them as a couple. The song was called Bliss, by Syntax.

I had not seen my sister in her custom sewn dress and she looked stunning!

They made their way to the center of the circle with a Yin and Yang in hand in what seemed to be the joining of their new union.

But this was not to be the end. They were sent on a mission to each of the 4 directional tables where they recited vows they had written and were slowly joined by their 6 children.

It was beautiful. There was so much symbolism in every aspect of the wedding. The amount of time and effort put into this blew me away. There was nothing traditional about this union, but they are far from a traditional couple.

Of course I cried, how could I not? My sister was the shining star of a production where the amount of love she and Rob have for each other overshadowed any raised eyebrows or sideways glances. They stayed true to who they are as individuals and as a couple. They simply said join us in our bizarre celebration of love, or don’t, we will cherish each other deeply either way.

At the end of the ceremony, after tying a symbolic knot made up of strings collected from each of the 4 directional tables and the kiss that sealed the deal, they started the music again and in the most fitting of manners, invited everyone to dance out with them.

Congrats Sara and Rob! I love you both and couldn’t be happier for you! I wish you all the blessings and joy that life has to offer you.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

***

Today is birthday of my biggest fan and an amazingly strong woman who has been there my entire life. In fact, without her I wouldn’t exist.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GRANDMA!!!

Emotions get the best of me, Loved One(s)

After much talk and many anxiety attacks, the new and improved Blogfully Yours is here!

I’m thrilled to pieces you have stopped by to check it out! Stay a while, make yourself at home.

Like most things in life, this is a work in progress — ever changing and evolving. But I can’t help but be impressed at how far this novice, technology-challenged blogger and blog have come. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry *sniff sniff* but I am, in fact, proud.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

PS- regular posting will resume on Monday.

Emotions get the best of me, blogging