Helping

I love to volunteer for things. Love it. I'm often told I don't know how to say no. Those people obviously don't know my husband. He'll be the first to say I do know how and use it often.

I'm almost always the first one to jump in and offer to help. Occasionally, this gets me in over my head. Sometimes, I have to sit on my hands so I don't embrace a new opportunity. I've always enjoyed helping. I'm a people pleaser. Yep, there it is in b&W just in case you haven't figured it out. When I am able to help people I feel better about myself. I feel fulfilled. Who doesn't want that?

I've held a lot of different official volunteer positions. Some I enjoyed, some not so much. Some left me feeling like I made a difference, some left me exhausted.

In 2012 I found my volunteer home. I had been interested in becoming an advocate with the local rape crisis center for years but the stars didn't align until March of 2012. It seemed like it was going to be perfect, I remembered to call and express my interest prior to the start date of the new certification class. This was the first sign that things were right. Over the previous few years, I seemed to always call mid session. Next, I answered my phone when they returned my call. That is an amazing feat in itself. I despise answering my phone. I absolutely refuse when I don't know the number. I managed to complete the application, opening up about my past and figuring out references that would build me up as professional, helpful, considerate and strong (stable). Then, lastly, I made myself available for the nearly 50 hours of certification. Yes, I now hold the esteemed title of Sexual Assault Counselor! I'm kind of amazing, in case you didn't know. I even have a certificate to prove it.

Then it came time for me to start taking shifts. This is when the self-doubt kicked in. The negative talk that I couldn't do it. That I wouldn't make a difference in the peoples lives. That I would fail so I should give up. Well, you know what; I didn't listen to that voice. I had many talks with it telling it to shut it and that all would be fine. I would lean on my training and I would do a good job. I would make a difference. I would help someone going through a living hell and that we'd both come out better for it. And you know what, I have. We have.

I've helped at least a dozen people through one of the worst experiences in their life. I've held their hand, wiped tears, laughed, reminded them how brave/strong/amazing they are and comforted them. I've seen them go from distraught and devastated to being able to smile and hug me. Telling me they couldn't have made it through the process with out me. Something happens during those hours that bonds us. We may never see each other again but we've touched each others lives. I walk away a little different, a little better because of them. They walk away knowing they can keep going and that this event, as horrible as it is, does not define them. I always leave feeling like I could have done just a little more but I also leave feeling fulfilled. I hate that these men, women, children have gone through this. I wish we could eradicate sexual assault. Until that happens, I'm glad that they have someone, like me, standing by their side, focused only on them, giving them back control and helping them to start rebuilding. I believe everyone needs someone in their corner and I am happy to be standing there, holding them up while they regain their composure and realize just how strong and brave they truly are.

Writer?

I've been compiling a list of topics for blogging. As I was skimming the list and adding to it, I read a line - shit, I'm not. It wasn't written to stand alone, it actually came at the end of a sentence. However, when I read it, there it was screaming at me. I got to thinking. What am I and what am I not. On the surface this seems an easy question. I'm a mother, wife, daughter, friend, volunteer and employee, and much more. I wear many hats but those are just labels. Why do we feel the need to label ourselves? Why can't we just be. Perhaps this will be a topic for a future blog. I certainly have a lot to say on it.

Moving along, to what I'm not. I am not a writer but I want to be. I am not an overly attentive mother but I have a healthy balance. I am not domestic but I cook and clean on occasion. 

I have always loved writing. I used to write short stories and poems. I was once published. It was a small book that was compiled from items submitted through the local schools in my home town. Not everyone was chosen and I felt incredibly honored. I may have only been around 13 but I still remember it as a highlight of my young life. I've always wanted to be recognized as a writer but have never taken the risk, except that once. It was a poem about the loss of my grandmother. It walked the reader through our relationship, how she didn't acknowledge me and how I didn't realize how much I loved her or what I meant to her until she died. The way it was written was as if I could be talking about anyone. Many related to it because they could put it into the context of a failed relationship with a significant other. It was sad and an outpouring straight from my heart. I remember the morning I wrote it. It was shortly after she passed away. I awoke with it running through my body with the need to be released. With tears streaming down my face I let my fingers talk. It took about 15 minutes to write and it has always been one of my favorites.

I remember others coming up to me and telling me how much they loved it. How it seemed to have been written just for them. That I put their thoughts into words. How it made them cry. I loved the feeling this gave me. Doesn't every writer hope to give their reader that connection?

Maybe I am a writer after all. Maybe I just haven't nestled into that hat yet.

Someday I will be published again.

Silence

They say silence is golden. I don't know who the fuck they are but I guess to some it is. Personally, I do not appreciate it. I always find myself needing to fill it with something. I will turn on the TV, music, read... At night is when I have the most difficult time with this. I cannot go to bed and lay there peacefully while I drift off. I must read until my kindle hits me in the face or watch mind numbing television until I drift off.

I've heard people say those that can't be alone with themselves can't face their thoughts. Perhaps this is true. I have so many things running through my mind that I often have difficulty navigating them. It's like the marquee at the stock market. Having some kind of background noise helps me to organize my thoughts and reach conclusions. It seems it would be counter productive but it works.

Today, I decided to try and embrace the silence. After all this year is about change. Don't worry I'm not going to discuss that again. I think I've covered it ad nauseam. I've set myself up well to try this. I live on a ranch with only 1 neighbor. Today they are out of town and my family is out and about doing their own thing. The only noise is the occasional car, the dogs snoring and a couple of annoying flies that will soon die. I have my cup of coffee, warm blanket and my phone on silent. I've set myself up well. If you build it, they will come is what comes to mind. Just sitting here describing it makes my heart race a little. That may seem insane, maybe it is. Being alone with oneself is not an easy thing. You are forced to look inside. My first thought is Ok, what do I think about. I want it to be profound have that AH HA moment- an epiphany. I can't force this. I can't will it to happen. I can hope and allow my mind to wander. I can feel it building. I know I am right on the verge of the clarity I seek.

For now I will leave you. I am going to sit with cup in hand and stare out my large bay window at the gorgeous oak tree in my yard. Allow my mind to do what it will. If nothing else, I will allow the beauty to sink in and enjoy the sun upon my face.

Change

I've learned some things about myself the last few days. I can forgive and move on. I can actually feel sorry for someone who intentionally set out to harm me. Recently, someone did some horrible things to my family and to me specifically. At first I was so angry that I wanted to lash out, harm him and tell everyone what a vile being he is. Alas, I did not and I am a better person for it. I actually pitty him. How sad it must be to live your life with the need to hurt others.

This entire ordeal made me realize how much I've changed. Call it maturity, growing-up, inner peace, whatever. I actually feel the change in me. I feel the peace washing over me. I'm getting to the place I've been working toward this entire year. A place of accepting myself and others. It's been a long road but worth every bump along the way.

I'm preparing to say hello to 2014. I have even bigger hopes and dreams for the upcoming year. It will be another year filled with change. Change, like everything should happen in steps. This year was about the emotional and physical. Next year will be about a different kind of change. A change that never could happen with out all I achieved in 2013. I will be taking a leap of faith- in myself. A year ago, I would never have had this courage. It is still scary for me. I have some self-doubt but I also know if I'm willing to do the work, I will be successful. I am still afraid of failure but I'm more afraid of not trying. It's as if a switch as been moved inside me and I'm ready to conquer. You, my friends, should be prepared because I'm about to achieve greatness.