October Blues

I can't stand the month of October.

Not in that "Oh my god, I hate this effing month so much I just want to rip it off of the calendar and be done with it" sort of way, but in the dreary feeling I get when I look at my phone, day planner or calendar and see that it's a day in October.

Why should I feel this way? There are lots of great things to look forward to in October for me: 4 of my nieces, one of my nephews and one of my best friends have birthdays this month, my best friend's wedding anniversary is coming up soon, and next weekend my other best friend is getting married. That enough should make me really happy and excited about October.

Unfortunately, there is sadness tied to this month that for me, will never go away.

Two years ago, on October 28, my mom passed away from a long battle with kidney disease.

It was inevitable, but still hard to see coming. We started the month throwing a surprise celebration for her and my dad's 30th wedding anniversary, and then the next thing we know, we're sliding downhill. All it took was 26 days.

Now, my mom's health hadn't been the best for awhile. She had been diagnosed with Renal Tubular Acidosis in 1995, which is the calcification of the kidneys. She was very lucky and did very well for a long time, keeping everything at bay and living her normal, active lifestyle. Unfortunately, it did get worse over the course of those years, and in 2007, she had to quit her job to go on kidney dialysis, due to the function being low. She was also given an official diagnosis of end stage renal failure. She fought it the whole way, though. She also never let it get her down: if she wanted to see any of the grandkids, or go somewhere (like our mother-daughter girls night to go see "Twilight" when it came out in theaters) she would find some way to do it. Come 2010, though, we started noticing things. She would see things no one else would, like people. She had a list of things she wanted to do "one last time," such as visiting her brother in Texas, going to a Three Dog Night concert at Downstream Casino (she didn't get to, and let's just say my dad heard about it right up to the day she died.... She even put him on blast on Facebook the day after the concert!!!) and learning to text, among other things. Either way, things were starting to look pretty sketchy. One day I was kicking around ideas, with my parents' anniversary right around the corner (October 3). I decided that it would be fun to throw a little party to celebrate my parents' 30th wedding anniversary since we weren't too sure how much longer we were going to have Mom around and not only that, but my parents basically eloped, for want of a better term. No big wedding, no reception, and a little bit of celebration, but not a whole lot. So I got two of my sisters in on it, we put our heads together, and threw the wedding reception that was 30 years in the making. It was a wonderful day, and I am really glad my sisters and I were able to make their anniversary extra special.

A week later, I had a strange dream. In this dream, I was at my parents' house, and my sisters were there too. I was looking out the screen door, and there was a lighthouse in the across the street neighbor's backyard. A lighthouse. In Kansas. Strange, yes, but keep reading!!! I said, "Oh, look at the lighthouse!" and my sister Misty comes up next to me and says "And there's the tornado that's going to take it down!" About that time I see a funnel cloud coming up, and our family takes shelter in the kitchen, of all places. When everything was over, we walked out. Mom was gone. Misty left. Tina went into another room. Josh walked in. My house was the only house standing. The lighthouse was gone. It wound up being me, Josh, and my dad standing in the middle of the living room. I was a little confused as to what this dream meant until a few days later.

My mom had been in and out of the emergency room for various complications quite a bit for awhile, and 4 days after I had had the dream, my dad called to tell me he was taking her in again. I followed him out and came in just in time to hear the doctor discussing the prospect of going on hospice care with my mom. I knew that that was for terminally ill, but didn't realize that it was basically care to keep them comfortable until the end of life. Believe me when I say I learned that one REAL fast.... however I was feeling rather okay with it when the hospice nurse came in and explained that people who generally have a few months to live are put under hospice care. Mom was all for the idea, and got things started right then and there.

The following week went it's normal route. I went to classes, taught a few piano lessons, kept my house in order, and just lived my normal life... until October 19. It was a Tuesday night, and I had just finished up teaching a couple of piano lessons. Josh was working, and I decided to settle in in my pajamas with a snack and a movie. It'd been kind of a busy day. I had just kicked back on my couch when my phone went off, and it was my dad. "Meg, you need to get over here. Your mom's confused and not responding well, the hospice nurses are here trying to help, Misty's already over here and Tina's on her way. Get over here as quick as you can." Lucky for me, I lived right around the corner from my parents, so I was over there in virtually no time at all. And what I walked into was sheer insanity... fighting, my mom trying to be corralled by 2 hospice nurses, and an all around stressful atmosphere that made me want to just break down right then and there. I got a hold of Josh and had him come home early on account of a family emergency, and we decided that our best option at that point in time was to have Mom admitted into the hospital for 5 day respite care so that we could get things situated and taken care of. It was during this time that we were told that she would be lucky if she made it a couple more weeks. While dealing with the emotional turmoil of knowing we were on the very brink of losing Mom, we managed to get some quick remodeling done on a couple of rooms of the house and some important legal matters surrounding the whole situation settled. On October 24, Mom was able to come home. Now keep in mind-- I had just returned to school that semester after 4 years of working full time. I was in the middle of midterms and the day Mom came home, I happened to have a choir concert, and I had Josh record it so that she and my dad could see it, since she wasn't in any condition to attend, and Dad was staying at home with Mom. I didn't go home that night. Instead, I went to my parents' house, and showed the video, even though Mom was barely conscious. I knew she could still hear it though, even if she wouldn't remember it later. It also gave me a sort of peace of mind. I spent the evening hanging out in the bedroom with her, holding her hand, and singing to her. When I stopped singing for a minute and left my hand draped over the rail of the hospital bed she was in, she grabbed my hand and hollered, "Sing!!!" It was hard, but I managed to pull through it. I don't know how, but I did. I ran to my house later to grab a change of clothes and my stuff for school the next day, and spent that night in a recliner in my parents' living room.

When I woke up the next morning to get ready for class, I heard some cheerful conversation coming from the bedroom. Mom was awake, and she was okay! Dad and Tina were in there, helping her eat scrambled eggs (that was what she'd asked for) and I walked in and told her about my concert from the night before, and some other things while I got ready for class. It was a nice little chat with her in the midst of everything that was going on. Then, as I got ready to leave, I kissed her on the cheek and said, "I'll see you at 1. Love you!" That was that. When I came back, though, it was hell all over again. She had spiked a fever, and things just started to worsen as they progressed. I was a little confused, and upset, and couldn't figure things out. So to pass some time and help myself deal, I decided to break down and read the hospice pamphlet on coping with a family member's end of life process. It was there that I read about how when a person is dying, they will rally, or show signs that they might pull through and act normally for a very brief period of time. It hit me HARD. My sisters and I agree that when Mom rallied that morning, she had come back to say goodbye. So we contacted as many friends and family as we could, spent as much time with her as we could, and prepared ourselves for the worst.

October 27, 2010. I woke up on that Wednesday morning with a really bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I managed to get myself around and into class on time that morning, but something didn't feel right at all. English Comp II came and went. So did Psychology class. And Music Appreciation. At the end of Music Appreciation, I grabbed my backpack, and started rummaging through my purse for my keys so that I could put my backpack in my car and switch it out with my music for Choir, but as I started to dig for my car keys, I noticed my phone going off. It was Tina. I grabbed my phone and walked out of the music room. "It's time. You need to come home now. She's not gone yet, but it won't be too much longer. You need to come home." "Okay." I poked my head in the door and simply told my teacher, "It's time." He knew immediately what I meant, and said "Go be with your family." That whole day I was a complete and total train wreck. I snapped and fought with everyone, I cried, I'd get myself calmed down for a minute, and then burst into tears again, I called my friends in hysterics. It was just... rough. By the time the night came, I was exhausted, but didn't want to sleep. I wound up catnapping on the couch for a brief period of time, and woke up instantaneously at 5:20 on the morning of October 28. A friend of Tina's was in the living room talking to my brother in law on the phone and I heard him say "She's gone. She just passed away." I shot up and into the bedroom. It felt too surreal to accept at that very moment. I woke Josh up. I woke Dad up. I called my best friend. We contacted hospice. The funeral home. It happened too fast to take in. The dust finally semi-settled around 8am, and my dad was insistent that I go home and get some sleep. So I made plans to meet Misty at the flower shop that afternoon before we had to all meet up at the funeral home, and I went straight home to bed. It was hard to sleep, but I got there. With all the stress and everything, and the fact that Josh came home and was rummaging through our garage and Prudence heard him and started growling (I've never seen a cat be protective of his owner like that...), I just wasn't sure it was possible. I made it through the rest of the day, though. And through the visitation, funeral, the emotional breakdowns and the following 2 years up to this point...

I'm still surviving everyday, but everyday gets just a little bit easier to deal. Sure, some days are better than others, I still have trouble with certain songs or stories or things that trigger memories, but for the most part, I'm doing better now than I was 2 years ago. I'll never stop missing my mom, of course.

In case any of you haven't noticed, my mom and I were pretty close. We worked together, hung out together, I could tell her just about anything, and we had an overall good relationship. She was super friendly and personable, and everyone that knew her loved her. I pride myself in thinking that some of my best traits were inherited from her. I'm also not really sure what else there is to say... except that I know that she's always with me, and that I miss her terribly. I could go on and on about silly little stories... but with as heavy a post as this is, those may come around in time as little anecdotes for future posts. I only have a million of them, like when I got my first tattoo done, and didn't tell her for a month, until she noticed and freaked out on me. "What the hell is that on your leg?" "Oh, it's my tattoo!" "When did you get it...?" "A month ago!" "That's just TACKY!!!" Or when I was in 8th grade, she was taking my dad to work at 5am. She always poked her head in my room to let me know she was heading out, and on one particular morning, she poked her head in and said, "Meg, I'm taking Dada to work." "Oka-- WHAA?!?!?!" "Oh! Sorry, I'm going to be 2 years old again!" She wasted no time leaving that morning, and I couldn't go back to sleep. Or I could mention that I broke a stapler at work one night, working with mom. It had seized up, and Mom was trying to fix it. "Here Mom! I'll do it!" The stapler broke apart into two pieces in my hand. The note left for my boss? "Frieda- Mom broke this. -Megan"

-Because of my mom, I am a musician.
-Because of my mom, I have a love for the people in my life that will never waver, and I'm not afraid to let any of them know this. I will also put them all before myself in any given situation.
-Most importantly, because of my mom, I have high standards for my life, goals that I can attain, the drive to go down swinging when life decides to throw me into battle, and the tenacity to get where I want to be and have everything I will ever need or want.

Patricia Kay Myers
January 25, 1951- October 28, 2010
Gone but never forgotten!

I'm Alive

Okay, so that title can go a couple of different ways. On one hand, I haven't posted anything in awhile, so it might seem as if I've fallen off the face of the earth. Obviously not true. On the other hand, it could also mean that I'm surviving my first semester at Pitt State, which is true. I am surviving it, and I'm loving every minute of it.

However, the REAL reason the title of this post is "I'm Alive" is because, well, I'm alive, breathing, kicking, and proud of it.

2 years ago this past March, I wasn't so enthused about that. In fact, I had hit such a low that I was done. Finished. Fed up and ready to just end it all. Now, I've hit some pretty low lows in my life (Age 9, age 13, age 21... those are some of the lowest) but age 23 took the cake. This is my story.

I've struggled with depression for YEARS, and when I say YEARS, I mean the vast majority of my 25-almost-26 years. I almost failed the fourth grade because I was so depressed, I didn't care. Lucky for me I had a teacher who did, but he and my mom still didn't acknowledge the fact that depression was or could have possibly been a factor in all of my issues. So I basically went through most of my life thinking (once I had an idea of what depression was) "I might be depressed. There is a name for this!" when the rest of my family was like "What do you have to be depressed about? Just do this, or do that! You'll be fine!" I don't think anybody quite understood it or what I was going through, and to be honest, I wasn't exactly very informed either. I dealt with the roller coaster over the years the best I could, even though it was hard and I would have much rather holed up and withdrawn from the world. Until I hit 20.... that's when the landslide started.

At 20, I had a lot going for me: a great boyfriend (Josh, of course!), a good steady job, and the world at my fingertips. I felt happy. Normal, for the most part. Unfortunately, that wasn't enough to stave off the worst. I went through a period where I just couldn't make myself get out of bed. At first, I figured it was because I was staying up too late (I was guilty of it...).... but then I seemed to sleep more and more, or just stay in bed because I just didn't have the willpower to make myself get up. This was an off and on thing for the next year and worsened when I turned 21. One night, before I went to bed, I decided I was going to try and end it. I wasn't sure though, and wound up chickening out. This happened about 2 more times until I turned 23.

It was a Tuesday night, which was my Friday and meant that I had Wednesday and Thursday off. I had a high spell, where everything was okay. Not totally perfect, but okay. I managed to get through my wedding 2 months previously, at least. I came home from work at about 11pm. I was tired, and feeling at my lowest. I was tired, so tired. Tired of my job, tired of my life, and tired of the incessant pain and not knowing how I got it, or why I was having to deal with it. So I figured that the only way to get rid of the pain once and for all was to just end my life. I immediately went straight to my fridge and found the unopened bottle of strawberry Boone's Farm wine. Gone in one sitting. Went outside and smoked a cigarette. Couldn't bring myself to finish it. Went inside, and in a quick flash of rage, threw my cigarettes and lighter against the living room wall. I made a beeline for the bathroom, and found the bottle of Tylenol. There were only 4 left in the bottle. I took them anyway and found my big bottle of Ibuprofen that I kept for my hangover headaches after long nights of partying. I managed to get 4 pills shaken out of the bottle when I heard the door. Josh was home. EARLY. Before I could collect myself, he was standing in the doorway right as I panicked and downed the 4 Ibuprofen I had in my hand. I just knew I'd been caught. Josh wasn't quite sure what was going on though, because I had just taken Ibuprofen so he thought I just had a headache, because I went straight to bed after the run-in.

The next day we went to lunch at a local Chinese restaurant. I was finally able to bring myself to tell him I had tried again, with the intention of succeeding. He got really upset with me, and yelled "What, you want to kill yourself?!?!" All I could do was cower, but of course, I was the one to blame. He finally calmed down enough to tell me that I really needed to get help. I still wasn't entirely in agreement, but I nodded my head in sort-of agreement to make him happy, like "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I hear you. Whatever." When word got out a little further, though, I wound up getting a sort of intervention from my friends. It wasn't one of those everybody gets together and tells you, just random text messages and calls with an approximation of the same message: "Hey Josh told me what happened, I love you, please get help, etc." I finally started considering it, and it took me about a week to finally pick up the phone book to find a therapist. I was still leery of it. I didn't want anyone to know, because I didn't want anyone to think I was crazy. I also didn't want to see one in Parsons, either, because I didn't want to deal with someone who might know me. I wanted complete anonymity. So I called a behavioral health clinic 35 miles away, and got assigned to a therapist. It would be the first of May when they would be able to get me in for an appointment, but I figured I would be okay until then. Josh watched me like a hawk during that time too, so there would be nothing to worry about.

That was the best move I could have ever made. While it took me a year to finally open up about why I was there, and dealt with more ups and downs with the depression (Back in October, I holed up in my room and stayed there unless I had to go to school or therapy and even then I was doing good to get to those places!), it's worked. Once I admitted the suicidal past, and everything, I was referred to nurse practitioner to be put on anti-depressants, as I was getting progressively worse through the year I'd been in therapy. It's helped immensely, even though it's been tough to stay on them due to some extenuating circumstances (No, not the typical "Oh, I'm okay now, I'm cured! I can quit taking them!" excuse). I've also been learning how to value myself and my life over the last couple of years. I haven't fully defeated the enemy that is depression, but I like to think that I'm getting there. At least I've made progress. :) I've also learned that it's okay to be in therapy, that it's not a big deal to take anti-depressants. It's so much easier to talk about it and I feel that I can be more open, because it is something that has been an issue and in some aspects of my life, defined me, unfortunately.

I often wonder what would happen if Josh hadn't come home early and walked in when he did. Would I have followed through? Would I have chickened out again? It's pretty likely with as low as I was feeling, I would have probably went ahead with it. I'm pretty lucky to have married a guy who loves me enough to help put the brakes on a downward spiral.

Now was the point of this story to make people feel sorry for me? No. To brag and say "Hey, I tried to kill myself!" Definitely, definitely no. I am making a statement. For those of you who struggle with depression who read this, I want to send this out to you because I have BEEN there. It will get better, and you can recover. You just have to truly want to fight it. Depression is a nasty adversary, and you can't just let it fester, or hope it will go away on its own because it will only consume you in due time. You have to stand up, put your foot down, and be proactive. Stand up to it and say "You will NOT control me!" You have to not be afraid to get help, know that you're not alone, and be willing to just fight it. When you hear people talk about "fighting depression," it is not a lie, because it truly is a battle that you have to keep on with and just keep pushing forward. Keep looking for that light. Hope for a happy continuation (not ending, because it's not over yet!) in life. :) Also, remember, when considering suicide, that it is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Whatever niche you have in life, the world's a better place with you in it. (I know, I know. These are the lectures I've heard too. They'll make more sense in due time, though. Trust me.)

How's my happy continuation so far? Pretty darn good, I'd say! Josh and I will celebrate our 3rd wedding anniversary in December, I'm working hard on my Music Ed. degree and we have a nice life in our home with our dog and 2 cats. :) Oh, and the most important thing? I'm ALIVE and able to see and appreciate these things that this tricky little thing called life has dealt me.

I Wish...

Sometimes I just like to sit down and let my thoughts run away with me.

Scary? Maybe. Not always, though. Usually when I let my thoughts run away, the results can be pretty bad. Other times, I come up with some pretty damn brilliant ideas... a little crazy, but hey, that's how I roll! Tonight's brain train has been riding the "I need, I want, I wish" rail. So now I've decided to compile my nice little list of things I want. Or need. Or just wish for. You get the gist. Now read on!!!

1) First, I wish for Tundra to bark less. I'm saying this because he's barking right in my ear at this very moment and it's starting to really irritate the hell out of me. I love my dog, I love my dog, I love my dog.......

2) A working air conditioner in my car!!! Yes, this is superficial, but you try driving a black car with dark interior in super-freaking-humid 105 degree weather with the windows down, the sunroof open, and no cool breeze to alleviate it! Hopefully this will be fixed later today. It just needs charged up and some stop-leak placed in it, and that is on Josh's agenda for the day. :)

3) A bag of tortilla chips. I'm eating chips and salsa and my chips are reduced to crumbs. Bah. I plan on going to the grocery store this afternoon but that doesn't help me NOW. I also may or may not have sat on the chips trying to settle into my recliner with my laptop. Woops. :P

4) A date night with Josh. Josh and I haven't been on a date in so long, I think I've forgotten what it's like. But between being busy, being tired, and being *ahem* broke, that doesn't leave a whole lot of room for getting out of the house to just have a great time for one night.

5) No barking dog. No, I do not want to get rid of my dog. I love him, remember? I just want him to shut up.

6) Marriage equality. And on an even bigger note, acceptance of differences. Need I say more? For those of you who want to be bigoted and small minded about this: stop reading my blog right now. Seriously. I'm bisexual and proud, and I don't care what anyone thinks. Everyone deserves the same rights. There's no need to be ugly about it. It's the small mindedness and judgmental nature of society that makes it hard for everyone to live in peace. Imagine a world where everyone can be right in their own way and it's totally okay.

7) A vacation! I haven't been on a vacation in almost 12 years. True story. I didn't even get a honeymoon after Josh and I got married. Another true story. I got married, and then went to back to work the next day. I'm dying to find an excuse to get out of Kansas for a little while. We'll see how that goes.

8) Seeing Pomplamoose in concert. Live. In person. It's been 3 years since I've been to a concert, it's my turn to pick a show to go to, and I freaking love Pomplamoose (Obviously. If you haven't noticed this fact after reading my previous 3 or 4 posts, then you're just not paying attention!). When they decide to tour again, you can bet I will keep my eyes peeled for a nearby show, because the Midwest totally needs some Pompla-love.

9) A new tattoo. I've already drawn it up, I just need to find a good artist to throw the ink down. The tattoo is a tribute piece for my mom: an eighth note with a butterfly perched on the flag with her date of birth and date of death flanking the eighth note. This tat will go on my left leg/ankle. For the record, while I am on this subject, I love ink. I already have 2 done: 2 koi fish swimming around a Pisces symbol on my right leg and a treble clef on my right foot. One is all it takes to get hooked, and I've been ready to get the next several done since I got my first one.

10) Sleep. It's 4:30am, Josh should be getting home from work here pretty soon, and I've got a long day ahead of me. Maybe I should stop wishing for it and just crash out for the night....

(And in case anyone is wondering, numbers 1 and 5 came true finally. Tundra got bored and sacked out on the dining room floor. :) Win.)

Wait! On A Positive Note...

There have been good things going on though! 

1) As you all probably know (IF you have read any of previous posts), I teach piano lessons and have been for 2 and a half years. Not only is this great because I'm spreading a love of music and my knowledge and skills to others for their enjoyment, I'm also beefing up my resume and getting my foot in the door to the world of music education. Every year in April, Pittsburg State University (which just so happens to be the college I am getting ready to attend this fall... :D) holds a festival for area grade school and middle school students to perform for ratings: Mid America Music Festival. As a student, I participated in Mid America in 1995 and 1996 playing piano and obtained 1 ratings both years. As a teacher, I have had one student who has went to Mid America (last year and this year). I am so very proud to say that at this year's Mid America, my student earned a 1 rating on her piece. It's almost the end of July and I am still supremely proud of her!!! I am really looking forward to next year with the hopes of having other students get to have the same opportunity to shine for the judges. :) It's times like that that make me feel I have chosen the right career path, and make my journey to my degree totally worth the work and time that I put into it. :)

2) Yes, I know. I've been mentioning Pomplamoose a LOT in recent posts. Do I care? Not at all!!! There are a million reasons why they are my favorite band, like I can identify with them, they're super talented, their music's really awesome and makes me super happy (their newer stuff is great to blare in the car with the windows rolled down and I do NOT care about the weird looks I get from people passing by, as not many people in my town have heard of or are fans of them), and... the list goes on. I actually discovered them at a good time in my life too. However that is a story that I might have to save for later, but if Jack and/or Nataly ever read this, I just have to say THANK YOU!!!!! :) Oh... on to the point of this segment. Nataly Dawn has done a few shows on a new online performance platform (I'm not sure how new it actually is, but it's new to me and may be new to you too!) called StageIt to promote her new solo album that has a yet-to-be-determined release date (and I am patiently waiting, because I am a good fan... okay... mostly patient... I'm only kidding myself... haha). During these shows, she will raffle off her handwritten set list (autographed!) to the highest tipping fan (You can tip the artist on StageIt. Much fun and you know that you're contributing to a good cause: you're helping your favorite artist!). I think I will let the following picture do all the talking now:

If you're wondering, no, Josh was not a happy camper when he first found out, and yes, he did get over it rather quickly. Oh, and yes, this was an excuse to jazz up my blog with a picture. I'm not stopping at just this though. :)

3) In the 3 months since my gall bladder surgery, I have lost 13 pounds! "But Megan, how have you done this?" Easy! Josh and I don't go out to eat anymore so I'm cooking on his nights off, only because I feel it's kind of pointless for me to cook a good home cooked meal for myself so I get to go all out for him, I quit drinking pop (or for those of you NOT in Kansas, "soda..." Today was the first time I had a Pepsi in almost 3 weeks. I'm super proud of myself.), I started working out with one of my best friends via different workout DVD's (although I've been slacking and I need to stop that) and I walk the dog several times a week. I'm way excited. Which leads to...

4) My dog is HOME! I'm so very pleased to say that the newest addition to the Lynch family, Tundra, fits in quite nicely. The cats don't seem to think so, but they're warming up to him. We are currently working on training, as he has not yet learned his manners. This isn't too big an issue though. He's super smart and picks up on commands very quickly. The only downside is that he can be pretty stubborn which is just typical breed behavior when you have a Great Pyrenees. We also spent the first month in and out of the vet's office because of some health issues that needed to be addressed (a missing eye and a tick infestation) and he also needed his shots and other things. We are proud to say that he has a clean bill of health: no more ticks, the empty eye socket has been sealed, and he is putting on weight and looking great! However, at the moment he doesn't exactly look like a Great Pyrenees, as he has been shaved, and his hair is growing back out. This is going to be an every summer thing. I don't want him to suffer in the horrid, humid Kansas heat, and his coat will be grown out by the time the weather starts to cool off. I love my Pyr!!!

So despite all the anger from time to time, I think it's safe to say that I won't be turning into the She-Hulk any time soon. :)

It is time for me to wrap this up though, I have to babysit my friends' kiddos in the morning, and then get ready for my super busy weekend, which will consist of making 4 homemade pizzas and some Mountain Dew cupcakes and going to see "The Dark Knight Rises" Saturday night for Josh's late birthday party with a few of our awesomely awesome friends. He was 25 on Tuesday. Yay! :)

Peace out.

Blowin' Some Steam

Just to clarify, this is not going to be one of those "I'm so mad I'm going to trash talk everybody" types of blogs. Feelings will be spared, and no names will be mentioned. Why? Because 1) I'm too classy to do that and 2) I'm not really mad at anyone in particular.

I'm tired. I'm grumpy. It's been a tough week. The universe has been working against me, from the menial things (realizing right before serving supper that I bought a bad package of hamburger buns) to the downright frustrating major issues (dredging up old issues from many years ago). For some reason, my patience has just been super thin. Hurgh. I also haven't been sleeping worth a crap either, but that could be because Josh doesn't get home from work until around 4:30-ish in the morning, and I've turned my days and nights around. This habit MUST be eradicated before August 20th, as I will be getting up early to get ready for classes. Granted, my classes don't start until 8am and 9am, but I still have to leave an hour early, as I have a nice little 40 mile drive ahead of me before said classes start.

I'm mostly mad at myself for being so damn preoccupied. My mind tends to wander into territories I've been trying to keep off-limits for a long time, which makes me sad/mad/frustrated/conflicted/aggravated/annoyed and any other negative feelings I missed in that list, so I stick my nose in a Sudoku book and solve them. I listen to a lot of rap (songs that make me want to shake my butt tend to perk me up a little bit, even though that is NOT my normal go-to genre). I spend hours upon hours playing games on Facebook nonstop. I tend to forget that I have other outlets: piano collecting dust, a book sitting on my end table with one read chapter, and a neglected journal sitting in my bedroom. I forget I have responsibilities: dishes that need to be done, a dog that needs to be walked and also needs training work, laundry to do, and other housewifely duties. Then the next thing I know, I look at the clock after hours of very little productivity, and it is almost time for Josh to come home from work. Now I'm not grumbling about the lack of a social life (I DO have one!), I'm just frustrated with myself for ignoring my normal, blissfully uneventful life.

I also realized that I had been ignoring my blog. Well, not exactly ignoring it per se, but there is a reason that I don't update very often.

I'm a housewife. I cook meals, keep my house clean, and make sure my husband and pets are well kept. My life isn't exactly the most exciting. My thoughts can be fairly repetitive, which would make daily blogs insanely redundant. When the going gets real bad, I keep it personal. Airing out dirty laundry on the internet for all the world to see is a big pet peeve of mine, and I pride myself in keeping my personal issues just that-- personal. I also don't want to bore anyone with my mood swings (Those depression dips can get pretty low, just sayin'.). When classes are in session, the best you can get out of me is music theory and whatever other subject material get covered in class.

But then again, if you actually know me personally, you would see that there's no wonder I stay pretty wound up. I'm battling a mental/emotional illness, my mom is dead, my immediate family is pretty much split down the middle, my husband and I fight (Although that's just normal. My mom always used to tell me that if you didn't have any fights/spats/disagreements in a marriage that someone's getting walked on. Don't worry, there is no divorce on the horizon, we don't fight that often. We. Are. Fine. Josh and I ALWAYS land on our feet. Together.). These are things I don't like to share to the general public, because I don't like to dwell on negativity. I like to blog about fun things, like my random Pomplamoose plugs (Good music is a gift and should be shared generously) and my silly little discoveries and victories (Anyone remember my gushing over the newfound use of hyperlinks in my blog?) I might talk about how much I miss my mom, and that that loss has impacted my life in a big way, or briefly mention the depression in passing, but that's about the extent of it.

What truly matters though, is that I am alive. I'm healthy. I have a great number of people in my life who love me and make this crazy ride we call life totally freaking worth it. Somehow I feel that I've touched on this before. Here I go with the repetition! Oops!

That being said, I probably ought to wrap this up pretty quickly. Until next time...

Random Late Night Blogging Madness!!!

So I guess it's not total madness but I am rather bored at the moment, so here is a post to give me something productive to do and keep you lovely people entertained.

So just a few random things since this is a random blog:

1) I'm currently listening to Jack Conte's "Sleep In Color" EP on Bandcamp. If you have not heard of or heard Jack Conte, you should check him out here. You should also check out Nataly Dawn and Pomplamoose while you're at it. :) Thank me later.

2) I'm super duper uber proud of myself! I created hyperlinks in a blog! Woot! Okay, now I'm back in the real world.

3) By all rights and purposes, I should be asleep right now. I have a 10:00 appointment out of town, meeting with a friend afterwards, and then I have my "final" for acting. My responsible side will take over eventually.

And now for a random John Lennon quote!
"A dream you dream alone is only a dream. A dream you dream together is reality."

Pushing the randomosity aside, I'm super nervous. I have an audition on Thursday morning and then my vocal juries that evening. Panic mode has already set in days ago. I can do this, I can do this, I can do this. Just get through the week and the world is mine-- er, I mean, I'm done with classes. It will all be worth it in the end.

Speaking of my responsible side, I believe Responsible Megan is kicking in right now, which means I should sign off and crash.

Ciao!

***One more thing!!!
I apologize for all of the mind clutter. I PROMISE the next post will have some sort of purpose behind it. So until next time, thank you. :)

Don't Stop the Music.

Music is a universal language that speaks volumes. It can express love, pain and indifference. It can make you feel better and it can reflect your current mood. It is widespread and beloved by most of society.

People who are regularly exposed to music are generally happier, and students who are involved in music in some capacity do better in school. Classical music played to an unborn child can help with its brain development.

To be a musician is one of the most rewarding things in the world. It is a natural gift that those of us who are lucky to be blessed with can use to touch the lives of others and connect while doing what we are the best at by sharing the wonderful gift of music, whether it is playing it or even teaching it.

Unfortunately, this is often not enough to appease the naysayers, the ones who feel that music is just a frivolous little hobby.

They do not understand that this is not a fun free-time hobby for us. This is our LIFE.

With that said, I found out some very appalling news today. The college I am currently attending is cutting the music department. No reason has been given as of yet, but it is still heartbreaking none the less. However, this is the sad reality we often face: when things become tight, or when changes have to be made, the musicians are the ones who usually wind up taking the crushing blow.

I will not be attending this college after this spring semester, and when I walk away from the campus in one month, I will know that my efforts were not wasted when I begin attending a four-year university this fall. So why go on and protest the decision? Our department, professor included, is like one big family. When one of us hurts, we all hurt. When one of us is overjoyed, we are all overjoyed. Now that the future of our department has been thrown on the cutting room floor, we will all stick it out together. I have wonderful friends who will be left in limbo with a need to find somewhere else to finish the first two years of their music degrees before transferring to a major university therefore being denied the chance to follow their dreams. Future students will have to look elsewhere for a music department. Our professor will be left with the daunting task of finding a new, secure job somewhere else.

He was the best thing that happened to our music department. He was proactive, and had a lot of great ideas to bring to the table. Our music department was in the stages of rebuilding, and he was what we needed: a phenomenal, motivated, creative teacher. The only problem is, he needed the chance to do just that: rebuild our department. Help draw people in and make our music department appealing to prospective students. Mean business, but enjoy it at the same time. He and the current students who are not yet ready to graduate and/or transfer have had the proverbial rug cruelly yanked out from underneath them.

This has made us question who truly supports the musical endeavor. However, there is proof of success with a music degree:

First and foremost, any and all choir, band, and orchestra directors, general music teachers, and private voice and instrument instructors past and present are leading (or have lead) productive lives by teaching music in the schools and in their respective music studios. After all, without them, I and other music students would not be where we are now.

Conductor and composer Eric Whitacre studied music at Julliard. He is one of the most prolific composers of today.

Ben Folds momentarily studied at University of Miami's school of music. He never graduated due to failing his percussion jury (a broken hand prohibited him from being able to play), but he was eventually lucky (and by lucky, I mean very very lucky) enough to find success as a musician, from his band Ben Folds Five in the mid-1990's to his current solo career. He is passionately supportive of music in the schools.

Jack Conte, an independent musician and producer, obtained a degree in music with an emphasis in composition and technology from Stanford. He has pioneered an audio/visual medium of producing music called the "videosong" (No hidden sounds and no lip-syncing, what you see is what you get) which combines multi-track music recording with a video recording of the process. He maintains a solo music career strictly through YouTube, as well as performing in the band Pomplamoose with his girlfriend, Nataly. They are able to make a living as musicians that is as comfortable as, or maybe slightly more comfortable than standard 9 to 5 jobs could provide them.

While a few of these success stories have been based on sheer luck, my point is that they were able to study music to be the best they could possibly be. They had teachers who supported them and helped them to hone their natural talents. They had people who cared and wanted them to rise to the top musically.

We have community support. Whether the public comes to our performances or participates in the community ensembles, they express their support in many different ways. However, I don't believe that the powers-that-be on campus believed in our program enough to continue on with it.

While there are those who choose not to support the arts for whatever their reasons may be, there are still many who do.

The decision has already been made, and we are left to deal with the wake of this loss. I hope that in the future, they will realize the impact that this decision will make and decide to reverse it, sooner rather than later. Don't let the music die.

I support music. Do you?


*********DISCLAIMER: In a recent edition of my hometown's newspaper, there was an article about a high school student who was punished for posting on Twitter about his bitter disagreements with one of the school's extracurricular activities. In the wake of this controversy, I want to say that I do not, I repeat DO NOT mean this to be a blast on the college or any of its administrators, students, faculty, etc. This is strictly to bring awareness to an issue that I, and many others are already extremely passionate about that just happened to hit home. Thank you.

Woot.

Hello, Hello. And Hello.

So, two blogs two nights in a row? I'm seriously blogging back to back?

Yup. 'Tis true. Because........

*long dramatic drum roll*

I'm BORED!!! I've had a rather exhausting, albeit good, productive day and I am so super tired it's not even funny. Since I had my gall bladder surgery a week and a half ago, I've been doing really well (majority of my recovery was the week of, so now I'm getting around really good. I'm still not supposed to lift anything heavier than 10 lbs. for the next 4 and a half weeks, though.) but I get really tired easily. Usually by the end of the day, I'm drained. Unfortunately, choir makes me really tired too. It's a bummer, but it's the truth. It's only because I'm not quite up to 100% yet, though.

I'm super super proud of myself today, though, on the subject of singing! My private voice lesson went super super well today and was very productive! My technique is improving and I sound GREAT. I found my head voice today, and I think I also found my confidence somewhere in the shuffle as well.

I'm also looking forward to being fully recovered from surgery and finished with this semester so that I can take the summer and focus on getting more active. Josh and I are getting our dog, a Great Pyrenees named Tundra, very soon and he will need walked every day. I'm looking forward to all the great exercise I'll be getting when I take Tundra for walks around the neighborhood this summer, providing that he doesn't walk ME instead. Now that my big health issue is over with (a non-functioning gall bladder), I can get back to my goal of losing weight. I know this sounds horrible, but I found some pictures of myself when I was in high school and forgot how tiny I was! I'm positive that with the right motivation and the right plan, I can get back to a healthier weight. My physical and mental well being have been neglected for far too long. Plus the weather here has gotten absolutely gorgeous, and I'm getting cabin fever pretty bad. The beautiful Kansas outdoors are calling my name. I'm especially dying to get to the lake. I didn't get to go last summer, and I want to spend more time out there this summer. Of course, I keep saying that every year and when I do get to go, it's only once. I'll just have to hold myself to that affirmation.

On that note, I don't seem to be perking up anytime soon, so I suppose I should probably close this down and either crash for the evening, or try and do something productive with my time (besides this blog! I haven't exactly harassed Josh at all today, so that will give me something to do! I have to pay him back for hacking my Twitter account!).

Later.

Thankful

Yes, I am feeling sentimental.

Yes, this is going to be a sappy, possibly soul-baring post tonight.

This is not a bad thing though. I have a lot to be thankful for.

It's been a rough time as of late, but rather than dwell on the negative, I've decided to count my blessings. After all, negativity gets nowhere. I've been in dire need of self-affirmation. It gives me a boost to go in the right direction and makes me feel about 100 times better about myself.

I've always felt that I've needed to prove myself worthy of others' time, and that I am growing as a person. I hate making mistakes and I sometimes feel like I come off as annoying and creepy, and that others won't like me. However, I have to constantly remind myself:

1) I am worthy of the attention of others. If people do not like me, then that's their loss. I don't have to call them out on why they don't like me or might have beef with me. I just accept it, and move on. I don't have time for petty disagreements with someone I will never see eye to eye with.

2) I have awesome friends who love me for me, and constantly remind me that I am NOT annoying and creepy.

3) By accepting these things, and making sure that I look to the path before me rather than what I've left behind me, then I truly AM growing as a person.

My confidence in my musical talent has been blossoming too. Not only that, but also my confidence in my teaching ability. I am in my second year of teaching piano lessons, and in those two years I have had several students come and go. I'm really pleased that I have a few students that have really turned out well. I couldn't be any prouder of them. It makes me feel good that I'm doing a great job of sharing my love of music with others.

As I said before, I feel that I have a lot to be thankful for. I know I've mentioned this already in previous posts, but it's the truth. Tonight I just feel like being a little more specific.

Like my husband, Josh. He is THE best thing that has ever happened to me. I know that a lot of girls brag about having the best husband in the world, but for me, it's not just bragging. It is stating a fact. I have put him through so much in the 6 years we've been together, and he is still right there with me. He's stood by me through the good and the bad, supported my decision to quit my job to go back to school full time and fulfill my dream of becoming a music teacher. He also saved my life.

I don't talk about my personal struggles much, especially my longtime fight with depression. It's just something I've dealt with since I was 9, and I don't normally talk about it because I don't want the sympathy. With 2 years of therapy, I've been getting more comfortable with talking about it but I still feel awkward sometimes. However, if it had gotten the best of me 2 years ago, it's pretty likely that I wouldn't be here typing this blog. Lucky for me I had Josh, who happened to walk in at the right time and catch me in the act before I could do anything damaging to myself.

My friends... I've pretty much had the same circle of friends since I was in high school, but I have friends from all walks of life that I have made over the past several years. I might not always be able to relate with them, but that's not how I base my friendships. I don't base them off of how often I keep in contact or hang out with them. That's not what matters to me. What does matter to me is that they care about me, and know that even though I tend to fall off of the radar, I don't ever stop caring about them. I've been pretty lucky to have great friends for a long span of time, and that's something I'm thankful for.

Things haven't been the easiest for my family, but I don't ever stop caring about them either. My dad and I both act a lot alike, and we tend to butt heads. I don't talk to my siblings much because our lives and families get in the way. I miss my mom like crazy and often feel lost because she was always the one I turned to in triumph and in hardship, and it has been so hard for me to adjust to the fact that I can't call her up and vent to her on a bad day or bust through her front door in excitement because of some grand accomplishment I achieved or to share any great news I found out. But, with hardship comes strength. As a family, we're still standing. That's all that truly matters.

Music.... listening to it, playing it, doesn't matter. It's my biggest love next to Josh and it's all I've ever wanted to do for a livelihood since I was 8. I'm just thankful for the huge role it plays in my life and that I will get to make a career out of teaching it to others. It's a reward for the heart. Oh, and it helps to keep what little bit of sanity I have intact too.

In the last few months, I feel I've kind of strayed from my spiritual path, but thankfully, I do not have a religion that chastises me for my flaws in that respect. I'm only human! I am trying to regain my footing though, and it makes me feel better. It's best to be honest with oneself.

So that is the post for tonight. May you all find yourselves a little more fulfilled as your stories unfold before you. I know I'm looking forward to all of the good things that are in store for me in the future as I write my story in the book of life. :)

Peace, love and light. :)