Change is Good

When I started this blog I had no idea how many people would read it. And I’ve been pleasantly shocked by how it’s been received! Hearing from people and knowing I could be helping, even with just words of encouragement has been a blessing.

Well. I’m shutting it all down.

  I’m getting rid of the blog.

Because Change is Good.

I kind of want to cry because this blog is my “word baby”.


Something better is ready for everyone. 

You see. I’ve collaborated with my two beautiful sisters. Trust me… They purty…. And we have started a blog to help focus those who may need help in areas of physical, mental, and spiritual health. And we’ve tossed some funny stuff and recipes in along the way. I am moving my blog and am at the helm of the “mental health” section of our new blog. 

I don’t want to disappoint anyone, I know change is hard. BUT I want every single one of you to check out our new blog The Darling Girls, and follow it! If you thought my stuff was somewhat interesting… Just wait til it’s combined with my sisters’ work. You will be floored.

Don’t worry. Melvin will be part of this new adventure.


Why I Hardly Ever Post: the sad excuse we’ve all been waiting for.

Yes, yes. I know. Why do I even bother blogging when I am probably the most sporadic poster alive. I blog like how I eat cookies. I go forever without eating them (or posting) and then all of a sudden I eat like 90 in one sitting. Granted I haven’t had a true full blown cookie since my little one  was born, but you catch my drift. And I still have gluten free cookies sweetened with honey though!

But I’m gonna give a small insight why it’s hard for me to be consistent. Besides the fact that life happens, and that I’m just too tired, I get anxious about it. Yes. I get very nervous about blogging. For a couple reasons.

1. I have anxiety, no lies I get anxiety over whether or not my dogs flea and tick treatment gets on my hands. Basically I get anxiety over a multitude of things.

2. The Internet scares the bejeezers outta me because I’m a hermit and it weirdos me out that people can read everything I write.

3. This blog is fairly self-centered and I don’t enjoy being selfish. Well my sinful side does I guess. But I want to use my experiences to help people. *trying to balance out self-centered ness?*

4. It makes me feel like a failure. I put a lot of “myself” out there on this blog and call me crazy (4 realz peeps, you could probs certify it) but I’m like a 1 year old who needs constant reassurance to take their next step. This is why I’m so blessed to have the husband I have, because he reassures me in just the right way.

Anyway, the point is I don’t blog a lot because I’m self-centered and self-conscience. I’m like a poor artist who is barely scraping by right before they die and then they make millions. So after I die I’m gonna make millions, obviously.

Anyway, the thought of posting has not helped me lately. I’ve been very frank with my struggles of anxiety and depression, but I think people assume that since I have a blog and smile often that I’m good to go. That’s not how this stuff works. No matter how I smile, this is a trial that will plague me for the rest of my life. And unless God wants to answer my prayer that he suddenly clear me of this in a way that I WANT, this will be something that sits on my shoulder every hour of every day for the rest of my life. Now I’m not saying this to solicit pity, or bring forth a dramatic pause in the theatrical show that is my life (starring My Baby Girl and her faithful sidekick Melvin the Magnificent). But it’s just to make you stop and think. What is the difference between someone who is struck immobile, numb by the constant hammering of depression, who is locked in the darkness of their head, and someone like me? Well. It took time for me to get here, and a whole buttload of effort. I have an amazing support system in my parents and primarily my husband. I got to a point in my life where I needed to live and I had to work for it. It seems unfair that the one way to help a depressed person who has no motivation and mentally shuts down and escapes reality is for them to choose to re-enter the living and WANT to get better. How can you make that step?! Well, I can’t speak for anyone else, but all I can say is God helped me. He gave me Sebastian and Sebastian would sit and hold me, he would open the Bible to anywhere and begin to read whatever was there just so my bloody brain could focus on one thing and not everything and nothing at once. I would sit and rock or cry or lay empty as he would read me the only thing that wouldn’t make my breakdown worse. I’m pretty sure during my worst times I remember him reading an Old Testament battle to me. Just keeping it real in the ROAR house. *winky face*

Anyway, sorry to make this such a weird post. But sometimes I get sick of two things:

1. People assuming you just decided to get better, which honestly you do have to decide to want to get better. How contradictory. This could probably be a post all on its own.


2. The misunderstanding that this generally doesn’t just “go away” like a cold.

Although, my mom’s chicken noodle soup does always make me feel better.

(Baby girl’s trusty sidekick, Melvin the Manificent, in the drama of my life…. Title of said drama is still underwraps)

I am not a doctor and have no professional training in this area! I just have experience from my own life! If you need help PLEASE consult a professional and/or doctor! That is what they are there for and they WANT to help you!


Hello everyone and HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY! Let us show love to each other by pointing to Christ’s love! In honor of looooooooooove. Here is the final portion of the husband-wife post.


(I told ya I was gonna post more wedding pics)

Ok. So this is the second half of the post written by my husband and commentated by me. (Here’s the first post if you want to read itRemember how we differentiate? This is Ruth.

This is Sebastian.

Ruth writes in italics. Sebastian used to not observe Valentine’s Day. Got it? Good.

So let’s dive write in everyone.

Over the years with Ruth, my wonderful wife, I have learned to watch for signs of a downward slide into the depths of her depravity. That’s some good alliteration.

They are subtle… And for those of us with a short attention span from years of video games and sugar, (seriously, this kid use to take in an absurd amount of sugar… I don’t understand how he doesn’t have diabetes or a mouth full of cavities) they can be extremely hard to identify. But you can learn, as I have that there are a few things that will help your loved ones keep their heads above water. (Ruth posted about some of her “quick fixes“)

I have learned that the sense of humor so famous for its origins in the Marine Corps is a little off-putting at our dinner table. Sometimes it’s funny! Just not when we are having family time… Or when we are in public… Or at church….you know… Times when people will be offended by every other word. I have learned to be wary of what subjects I speak of before we go to bed for the night. I have learned that my childish antics and inability to comprehend financial duties and monetary stewardship are triggers.  I wouldn’t say your antics are triggers, you are NOT a trigger. HOWEVER. those topics can be triggers… I have learned just how much of an ass I can be…also true. You can be an a**. But you are also the sweetest man I know. And I know I can be an a** sometimes too.

But… And this is a big but (not unlike that bovine posterior of Utter Dispair) I have learned the importance of a single rose on her birthday. I have learned how amazingly unique and empathetic her heart can be. I have learned that I can never feel the way I do about her toward anyone else. I have learned what it feels like to be important (something of which a 19 year old Lance Corporal professed, in vain, to hold a deep and philosophical understanding). I have learned to be the man God intended to create, not the fool that I desired to become. Ok. I’m feeling bashful. I’m not that great. Haha but you did think you were super philosophical when we were first dating. 

Depression is bone crushing. I have no doubt in my mind that King David felt the devastating grip of its tendrils when he wrote Psalm 22. And I wish every day that I could just take her chemical imbalance and present her with a more apathetic frontal lobe.

Ruth has taught me so much because of her depression. She had to… And I still don’t understand it. I have tried to pick up my own slack in our home. I don’t remember when I started controlling my unstoppable tongue from triggering her ailment. I don’t remember when I started thinking “How is this good for Ruth?”

I would encourage those reading this who have a relationship with a member of the Bleeding Hearts of the World Club to pick something small, seemingly insignificant… Like the dishes, or garbage, or waking up to take care of a screaming baby… And do it for your loved one. Don’t say “LOOK WHAT IM DOING FOR YOU!” The world is all too full of Pharisees. Just tell them to relax. Do that for a week. Or do chores with them. Let’s be honest though, even if your loved one doesn’t suffer with depression, we should all do our best to serve and help our loved ones. My husband constantly tells people “husbands are supposed to love their wives like Christ loves the church, and he died for the church.” I’m blessed to have such a dutiful Christian man in my life.

Buy her flowers or cook his favorite meal. Do it because you have chosen to love them. Be unpredictably fun. Take him to play on a jungle gym in the rain. Take her star gazing with cookies and milk. He one time saved my birthday because he royally messed up planning it and stopped at a gas station to get cookies and milk for me.  I’m a big fan of cookies and milk. Do something special on a weekday (GASP, it’s true ya lame adults, you can still have fun on a work night… And believe it or not it doesn’t have to involve liquor). Hell, do SOMETHING!  They are sitting there, hoping you will do anything! So tell them everyday that you love them. Make her cry from joy! Drop everything when he needs you! It will always be worth it. A little smile… An honest laugh… Be there for them. Show them you are there through your actions. Don’t give up on them. NEVER GIVE UP ON YOUR LOVED ONES WHO SUFFER WITH THIS BURDEN. Because there WILL come a point where it seems like they have given up on you. They haven’t. They have given up on themselves and they need YOU to take their hand and pull them through it. 

This last part is for the guys in the audience:

A wise man once graced the world with the motto Facti non Verbae. Deeds not words. You can say whatever you want, but when you finally decide you wanna be a man, grab your stones and DO SOMETHING. Anything. Do it for them. Ok this could apply to the women too… 

St. Paul wrote in his letter to the Ephesians that the husbands should love their wives as Christ loved the Church and gave Himself up for her. Christ gave everything… EVERYTHING. And He did it for the Church. All I’m asking from you is 15 minutes to do the freaking dishes…or any chore that your loved one despises…I just happen to not be able to stand the dishes and I absolutely love that my Marine does them for me.

(Just married and ready to get carried….. Away with looooooooove)

To be honest I want to post like a gillion more wedding pics. But I have restrained myself.

 I am not a doctor or physician, but I consulted both before starting my journey. If you need help consult the professionals immediately! I have no training. The professionals do and they are there to help!

Full Disclosure: It’s All About ME

So. I was expecting my next post to be the second part of the “guest-on” series by my husband and I… Funny part is, my husband’s portion has been done for weeks… I’ve just been too lazy to add to it, and then I decided…. I should post in on Valentine’s Day because of twue wove and stuff.

Ok. That being said. What is this post about? Well, my minions, it’s somewhat of a self-centered post. If you look back into one of my original posts where I talked about switching my diet around (you can read the original post here), I explain what I would be eating and why. Then, in a later post, I briefly explained the progress made in my new eating habits. Well today I’m going to expand a tad.

As most of you know, I’m kind of crazy. Like mentally cray cray. If you are one of the people that don’t know, you can read about it here. I was desperate to do anything to get back to normal and so I did a drastic diet change and after a month I stuck to some main components that are now my diet for what I can only assume will be the rest of my life.

  • Gluten Free
  • Sugar Free
  • Cut out as much processed food as possible
  • Mainly veg and fruits
  • A great undenatured protein superfood shake

Now. This is what I have to say. I didn’t do this with major weight loss in mind. I did it for mental stability. Obviously weight loss was an added bonus because I was carrying A TON of baby weight and I’m a stereotypical woman who is always up for losing a few pounds. But here’s the thing. I have gained mental stability that I’ve not had before and I did it without medication. And I did it in a time in my life where I lived in constant high stress. And I mean constant. People who have had a baby, you know what I mean. People who have had depression, you know what I mean. People who have had financial distress, you know what I mean. People who have a dog that you haven’t given a bath to in a VERY long time, you know what I mean. And yet, I was able to keep going. Of course I had horrible times, but I honestly believe that God gave me the right people, and the right food to help my mind and body. And he obviously gave me His Word to rely on through out it all.

This picture blows my mind though. The one on the left is me a little over two years ago. I was running quite regularly and eating what I thought was a healthy diet. The picture in the middle is little over 6 months ago a few days after I gave birth to my baby girl. And the picture on the right is me from a few days ago, 6 1/2 months postpartum. What’s different? My diet. THE WEIGHTLOSS HAPPENED ON ITS OWN OK DONT JUDGE ME. And for those people who tell me it is stupid or unrealistic to keep the diet I have all I can say is this, why do you care? I have done my best to gain mental stability without medication. And I honestly believe that this just shows what eliminating horrible food from your diet can do…. I feel like the picture from over two years ago shows my bodily reaction to healthy diet including gluten and sugar! (Does that sentence make sense?) I feel healthier and stronger. I have never felt less exhausted then I do now and my baby has yet to sleep through the night. I started training for a marathon 2 weeks ago. And I’m eating and drinking yummy and healthy stuff. I have exclusively breastfed my baby for 6 1/2 months and she’s happy and healthy and I know she’s getting the nutrients she needs.

Ok. Dramatic post done. Also sorry for linking so many past posts.

 I am not a doctor or physician, but I consulted both before starting my journey. If you need help consult the professionals immediately! I have no training. The professionals do and they are there to help!


Hey everyone, Ruth here. I’m writing in italics because today my Husband will be posting. So since I can’t help but make comments the ought I thought I’d differentiate our writing but putting mine in italics and his in print.

This is Sebastian

This is Ruth

Sebastian. Not Ruth.

Ruth. Not Sebastian. 

Got it? Good. So Sebastian wrote a post and it ended up being very long so we split it in two. The first being his background on all of this. And the second post will be his advice and thoughts on how to help a loved on who suffers with depression and anxiety. I apologize for any crudeness he might throw in. By the way he chose the title because he thought it was funny and clever how it sounded like Gaston from Beauty and the Beast

Depression sucks. In all the relationships I’ve had, depression is the worst ailment of those I’ve cared about. Yeah and how many relationships have you had there, bro?

It’s probably the hardest to deal with because I can’t comprehend the feelings of hopelessness and utter dispare (once milked a cow named Utter Dispare… Which is the answer to a card in Trivial Pursuit). Your own personal trivial pursuit that no one probably wants to play

I’ve been around quite a few mental ailments too. Not going into too much detail: I’ve been around people with borderline and narcissistic personalities; ADHD and ADD;  are ADHD and ADD considered mental ailments? depression and anxiety; eating disorders and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder; empaths and apaths. I’ve even been suspected of several of these… But I’m Irish, and if Freud was right about anything, it’s that you can’t psychoanalyze those brilliantly clever and atrociously loyal cousins of mine on the Emerald Ilse.

So even with an upbringing in the chaotic beauty of a traditional Irish family (complete with a father of weak constitution and weekly bouts of fisticuffs with Donovan), I still had no idea of what to do with depression. I’m still trying to figure it out, just as scientists are trying to figure out why I call them all nerds.

This terror of the mind has struck blows against all aspects of my life…

Few are aware that the deaths of our servicemen in Iraq and the Afghan are supremely overshadowed by the death of those who return with a war ravaged mind. The rate of veteran suicide is about 22 a day. You can read about it here.

I remember so clearly when Ruth had her biggest breakdown. I was out in the oilfields of the Dakotas working construction jobs when I received a call from her dad. I let it go to voicemail. When I checked it and heard what happened, I got back to town ASAP. I’m pretty sure the closest I could come to understanding depression was when my fiancée couldn’t hug me…. Couldn’t let me near her… Couldn’t even stand… Haha. I wish you were exaggerating. Fun fact, according to my therapist he couldn’t touch me because My brain started triggering as if I had PTSD. I have no idea why either. 

And I was useless. With all my fortitude and manly virtue -is this where the narcism comes into play?,there was no way I could fight against her demons. Useless. Helpless. Left there to watch in bitter angst as her own brain attacked her soul.

Depression is a cancer. An inoperable cancer. It took me 23 years, 8months and 19 days he just made that number up. He literally just pulled that number outta his hiney. to realize this: it’s not about fixing her… It’s all about being there to help her through it.

So this concludes my Marine’s background knowledge portion. In a few days he/we will be posting the second, and in my opinion more informative, portion of this topic. 

(A photo from our wedding during our vows. Couldn’t help it! Shout out to my wonderful photographer 🙂 she’s pretty amazing! Also I can guarantee I’ll post more wedding photos on the next blog post because I’m obsessed with them)

Also neither of us are doctors and specialists or anything so don’t take our word as gospel truth! We would highly suggest you or your loved one seeking help from a professional! 

My 5 Quick Fixes: Things I do to Lift My Mood

Everyone has their own little things that they know lift their mood. So in honor of the bad mood I’m in right now, I’m gonna post my 5 quick fixes that help lift my mood. They may or may not work for you, but maybe it’ll help you think of the things that lift your mood!

  1. Bath Time : This will forever be my go- to fix when I’m down. Bubbles and salts included. Candles and music optional. It gives me a chance to relax and be by myself. Trust me, I love my husband and baby… But when you’re a stay at home mom you sometimes need a 30 minute break from having a baby claw at your face and reaching for your *ahem* chest to nurse… You catch my drift.  (lately I’ve been really enjoying making different bath salts with some essential oils… They smell divine and help my mood. However, always make sure you’re using your oils safely!)
  2. Exercise : “come on Ruth, could you have thought of a less cliche ‘mood lifter’?” No. I really couldn’t. But that’s because it works! You know…endorphins and stuff. But this is always super hard for me to get started and do. And I get sooooo peeved at my husband when he pushes me to go for a run. So peeved. I may have once or twice pulled the dreaded “are you calling me fat” card when he’s told me to go running. But by the end of the run, I tend to have a clearer perspective. Can’t argue with that.
  3. Create : Baking, cooking a new meal, coloring, or painting. Those are my favs. The point is when I do one of these it occupies my thoughts completely, and before I know it I’m feeling more positive because I just made something
  4. Clean : I think this might make me a little weird but I’m sure there are those freaks out their who like to clean too. But, one of the tell tale signs that I’m doing badly is if my room (or now I guess home because I’m a “grown up”) is a disaster. You should have seen my room in college when I would be going through bad times. Scratch that, you shouldn’t because I’d be humiliated. Anyway, but now I’m kind of the opposite. I need my house to be spotless because if it isn’t I will collapse. I’ve been known to go on a cleaning frenzy and my husband takes our baby and slips out the door and my dog hides in his bed lest he accidentally be vacuumed up. But a clean home makes me feel soooo much better and soooo productive.
  5. Go Outisde: The sun can do an amazing thing on your mood. And sometimes you just need to get out of the house. During the Jon-winter months it’s amazing to just grab the baby and head out on a walk. However, now that I’m enduring enjoying these Midwest winter months, even just taking my little one to walk through a store can help not feel stuck.

I’m not going to include this in my list, but I’ve found that writing a blog post actually helps to. I don’t know why, probably because I want everyone else to join me in my misery. Muahaha.

Now, there are two things that I KNOW do not help my mood, but they are my weakness. Food and sleep.

  • Food, because I can so very easily begin to eat my feelings.
  • Sleep, because for many years I used sleep to self medicate. Now taking a nap can definitely help mood, especially for sleep deprived mommys, but I know that I shouldn’t use a nap as a means of escape.

I hope this helps people think about some small things that might help them!

I am not a doctor or physician, but I consulted both before starting my journey. If you need help consult the professionals immediately! I have no training. The professionals do and they are there to help!

Don’t Let it Define You. Or Do?

Before I get down to business I’d like to first say, Merry Christmas! It’s such a wonderful time when you can stand in awe at the birth of Christ!
Alright, now that that is squared away I’d also like to say I tried gluten free pretzels and followed up by eating my weight in gf pretzels with cream cheese. Does anyone else’s family eat pretzels with cream cheese? If so, I applaud you! If not, I judge you. Haha just kidddddding. But seriously it’s amazing.

Now. On to the topic at hand. I spent several days pondering this subject and chatted with my mom about it. She’s a wise woman, my Mommy, and I will probably end up quoting her a ton. It’s just that I wanted to make sure what I said, I said it clearly and concisely. (What do you mean concisely… Ya just spent six sentences talking about pretzels ya freak on a leash) as concisely as possible starting….. Now.

Have you ever heard of the day old saying “don’t let [fill in the blank] define you”? It’s one of those anecdotes that people say to build one another up and remind people who they truly are. Well I’m gonna flip the table a bit. My depression is who I am. But I am not my depression. Granted my depression is not completely who I am. But it is a part of me. (HAHAHA how’s that for existential?) God used it to shape me, my personality, my perspective. I can honestly say, without a doubt, if I did not have depression and anxiety as my cross to bear I would be different. My core would be the same, but the Ruth that people know and see would be different.

There were several years of my life though, that I think I let my depression define me completely. I let it be who I am. And it’s sad. I lost so much during that time because I was not “mentally there.” If you let your battles, whatever they may be, consume you, then you are doing yourself a disservice. You lost the fight. But, if you pretend that your battles don’t help shape and define you, you are living in ignorance and missing out in the joy of embracing your own weaknesses and battles. Because of my depression and anxiety I understand the power of empathy and thought in a way I never would have if I was free from this burden. I would never have had the joy of conquering what I have conquered. If my husband had never had the past he had, he would never have appreciated his family the way he does now and wouldn’t have the drive he has to protect the ones he loves. (I can guarantee you he will argue this with me “I’m a sheepdog, it’s in me to protect the sheep from the wolves”) my point is….. Let your battles define you. But don’t let them consume you. But always remember that when you define yourself, when you look at your self worth you look to the cross. I am FIRST AND FOREMOST a child of God. I have FIRST AND FOREMOST been redeemed by Jesus. I am defined FIRST AND FOREMOST by the empty tomb and the full manger.

(Here’s a picture of Melvin because why not)

I am not a doctor or physician, but I consulted both before starting my journey. If you need help consult the professionals immediately! I have no training. The professionals do and they are there to help!

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10 Reasons Why Dating My Husband Helps My Depression

Yesterday afternoon I posted a video of my husband’s proposal to me in preparation for our date last night. You see, it was our 3 year anniversary of the day that my Marine went in and asked my Daddy if he could go steady with me. Yes, we are straight outta the fifties, and yes my Dad did think he was a square. Now, in all seriousness my husband is a huge blessing for me. I have told people before that if God hadn’t given him to me, I might not be alive, or at the very least whole. He is a tremendous help for various reasons. But tonight, I’m gonna give you 10 reasons why dating my husband helps my depression.

(Our little date, Culvers and Christmas Lights at the park. Aren’t we ca-yoot) 

1. I get dolled up.

  • I love doing my hair and makeup. But once you get in a slump you stop. When I was at my worst place mentally, my therapist made me shower, do my hair and makeup, and put nice clothes on every day. When he gave me these instructions I. Was. Mad. I did not want to take the effort. But it helped me. Even though I did it and it was sheer aesthetics, there is something that gives you a little pick-me-up when you feel like you look nice. And when I go on a date with the husband, I look my best and I remember that I am a woman instead of an un-showered source of food for my baby. I get a confidence boost.

2. I leave the house.

  • I’m a stay at home mom. If I leave the house it’s because I need to buy diapers… Or do laundry at my parents…. Or take the dog out because my husband hurt his foot… On a date I get to be out of the house and back into civilization. I talk to people. I force myself to be social and interact. A task that is difficult at times when depression tells me I can’t talk to anyone, but a task that is necessary to tell me that I SHOULD talk to people. I should go and see the world around me that God created.

3. My Man looks good FOR ME. 

  • If you know my husband you KNOW he has his own sense of style. Majorly. But he tries to look good for me, a reminder that he loves me and he wants to do something for me. A date provides an opportunity for my husband to go out of his way to make me happy, and I Appreciate it.

4. We treat ourselves.

  • Last night we went to Culvers because we had a gift card. Enough said. (P.S. Culvers now offers gluten free buns!)

5. We relax.

  • We can laugh and talk as loudly as we want without worrying about waking a baby up. And if you know my Marine, you know that not having to worry about his volume and just letting loose is kind of a big deal. Ear plugs may be required.

6. We leave the electronics out.

  • Day-to-day it’s easy to spend way too much time looking at a screen instead of each other’s faces. But excessive screen time can effect relationships. I just found this post on Pinterest  talking about this exact topic and thought it was great!

7. We hug more.

  • Yeah. You heard me. A date provides lovey dovey opportunities for excessive hand-holding, hugs, dancing, and smooches. Yes I said dancing. And hugs provide stress-relief. Don’t believe me? Here‘s an article that talks about hugging and how it helps relationships and can provide heart healthy benefits.

8. I put my worries on hold.

  • A date is a time where I FORCE myself to not worry or think about things that will stress me. I physically push them out of my mind. And that’s what’s nice about my Marine, is that he knows my anxieties. He knows if I feel that terror coming on he can squeeze my hand and tell me I am ok. When being around people scares me, my Marine has always been there to protect me. Always.

9. We talk.

  • Ok, yes we talk every day, but a date requires heart-to-heart talking. My husband is my confidante, he calms my fears when I speak them to him, and on a date is when I can really talk to him because it’s when we re-charge and think about US.

10. He brings out characteristics in me I normally don’t have. And that’s a good thing. 

  • I think a lot of people were a tad perplexed when my husband and I originally started dating. We are beyond different. Like the-only-thing-we-have-in-common-is-Jesus-and-our-love-of-Disney-and-potatoes type of different. But my husband helped me. He taught me how to turn off my crippling empathy and to be a little more thick-skinned. He forces me to do things I want to do but don’t have the confidence for. He helps me with my self-value.

My Marine helps me so much. And even though we are married, I’m gonna keep dating him.
I am not a doctor or physician, but I consulted both before starting my journey. If you need help consult the professionals immediately! I have no training. The professionals do and they are there to help! 

I’m back. And I’m Ready to Rumble. And I Have Bullet Points to Prove it. 

(Oh… You didn’t want a picture of my face super sweaty and my hair really crazy? Too bad. I really should be embarrassed of this picture but whatever.)

Sooooooooooooo after a very long and extended hiatus I have returned. Obviously because I know that I am destined for greatness in the world of blogging and not because I am a guilt-ridden soul with an anxious spirit telling me, nay imploring me, that I have let down multitudes hoards several  three people my dog  who relies on my written word. So I am back.

I would like firstly to give my 5 excuses.

1. I’m lazy

2. I have an almost five month old

3. I ran a 5k (granted that took place on one morning)

4. My husband had some work changes.

5. I gave Melvin a bath.

Are those enough? Have like 42 more excuses if you need some.

I would like secondly to give you 5 updates on my mental health

1. Still not on back on medication!

2. I finished my month long dietary experiment and have continued to cut gluten and sugar out of my diet. Wanna know what happens if I have something with one of those items… Especially sugar? I get a stomach ache. I get a headache. And then I tend to go bat sh*t crazy on my husband. He too likes me to continue my sugar and gluten free diet. Weird, right?

3. I have not been to the therapist in like two months, and I don’t know why. Mainly because: I have no idea when my scheduled appointment was. I rely on those reminder calls from the secretary. I could be besties with her. But I’ve gotten no call. For all I know I’ve missed like 5 appointments.

4. The fact that this winter is basically not a winter has been amazing and such a blessing from God. Can I get a Hallelujah for the snow free and sunshiney days? Yet another reason to procrastinate getting a vitamin d light.

5. My PPD (postpartum depression) has gotten so much better because Jesus loves me and because my parents are awesome and because I have the worlds greatest husband. And because I worked really hard and God kept pushing me to where I need to be. I’m so blessed I get to spend every day at home with my baby.

So here’s some stuff that maybe I’ll write about if my dog keeps guilting me into writing because he depends on my hilarious titterings:

1. Juicing. Good golly Miss Molly I keep saying I’ll write about juicing.

2. Sharing some VERY clean and scrumptious recipes

3. A guest writer

4. How my sisters and I want to write a sisters blog… Because we are funny smart have something mildly interesting to say weird.

5. My date that I’m going on tomorrow with my husband. First one in 3 months.

I might write on all, none, or some of these topics. I never said I was reliable.

My baby is currently giggling in my arms as I rock her while she sleeps. She obviously is reiterating the fact that I’m flighty and ditsy.

Rejection: Thou Shalt be Conquered

Anxiety can often inflict several emotions on someone. My two personal favorites are: Fear and Guilt. They make me feel so warm and cuddly inside (read: cold and vomity). Well, my anxiety seems to exasperate a common problem that many people seem to have: Rejection. I really don’t like it. Rejection and I? We ain’t friends.

Why don’t I like rejection? Because I am a perfectionist. In my high school years, I was a tad ludicrous (no, I was not the rapper, but I can throw down with the best… in my head). I took more involved electives that I knew would give me more homework because I thought it would be better for my future and more character building. It still makes me angry that I didn’t take Art. Ugh, I could be an artist right now and draw out all my negative emotions. I also was a health nut, worked out all the time, tried to eat healthy (never once ate a soft pretzel at lunch. Never.) took fish oil and a spoonful of flax seed every day and tried to take apple cider vinegar regularly. I made varsity volleyball as a sophomore and spent my summers running (and occasionally playing racquetball with my sister even though we had no idea what we were doing and I’m pretty sure I got a concussion once). Anyway, my point is- I took it to an extreme in high school. Yeah, I was lazy and got some bad grades once in a while, but if I failed it hit me incredibly hard (see “not making the elite choir and crying in a bathroom for hours because I couldn’t face rejection” as a reference).

Well, once I got to college I couldn’t take it anymore, some new medications were playing with my brain. I developed a new course of action: AKA what I have dubbed as “the lazy perfectionist”. I wouldn’t try at anything. If I couldn’t do it perfectly I wouldn’t do it at all. Thus, I had a less than stellar gpa in college, I hardly worked out and watched what I ate – oh hey freshman 15! – and building relationships with people, something I always took very seriously, was at the bottom of my to-do list. Not only that, but I couldn’t bear the thought of letting people down so I took on a persona of a disorganized individual who has no idea what is going on.

What does this have to do with anything? I will tell you, my friends. As those who have read this blog in the past may have realized, I haven’t posted in a while. Why? Because I was anticipating rejection. You see, I sent some blog posts into a couple websites to see if I could get them posted. And I have been sitting here waiting for the rejection to come. And while I waited for the rejection, writing seemed like the last thing I could do. I thought about getting rid of the blog in my preparation for rejection. I thought about eating my feelings in preparation for rejection. I thought about crying in my preparation for rejection. And of course, I thought about vomiting in my preparation for rejection. Well, yesterday I got my first rejection email. I knew it was coming but I was still sad and heartbroken and waited several hours to tell my Marine. And then I talked to my sister Catie, who likes to write. She too has tried getting published and has felt the sting of rejection letters.

Catie and I

(This is my sister whom I lovingly refer to as my Kitty Cat, she’s pretty good and stuff)

And she said something brilliant (I know, I was shocked too… kidding, Catie! Looooove you!)

You go ahead and be sad. I’ve cried over it before. Now I’ve just been hardened to it after what feels like hundreds of rejections. It’s not resilient, it’s forming thick scars after being whipped many times. You go ahead and hurt, just try hard to remember that it’s not a reflection of you or your abilities. (Which will be hard, I know) but it really isn’t. And don’t let it stop you from what you want to do. Please don’t.

We then continued on and bashed editors and publishers and stuff because that’s just what sisters do.


(Sisters… Tralalalala Sisters…. we love each other and stuff… sisters)

Rejection is such a terrifying part of being a human. I’m a wife and I fear rejection from my husband, even though cognitively I know that my husband loves me and is committed to me completely. I’m a mommy and I fear that my daughter will reject me, even though that goes against the way God created our bond. I’m a human and I fear rejection from everything else that matters. But what I need to remember is this: the One who matters most will never reject me and continually invites me into His arms over and over again, even when I may reject Him. God. He will always hold me in His arms through my many earthly rejections. And with that knowledge in hand, I will get back into the boat and keep rowing into the storm of rejection until I find that undiscovered piece of land. Take that, editor who rejected me. You haven’t heard the last of me.