tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61059234112837040662024-03-14T08:45:31.504-04:00In the MixA Lifestyle BlogBriahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.comBlogger204125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-48988029954876091832022-01-24T08:00:00.016-05:002022-01-24T08:00:00.176-05:00Want, Need, Wear, Read<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjlP8ATyfHGcR44f6fewKS14-DUSFdk9ON_Z4CPPvLnEoVrm2eDAK2Sb6XOuoDRI58K5wpIJgbOtjWo-glvOueoheSQE24EgkHJ_UmaDdJxGgfBiU8LNN2-vQmBgA4PV6C5QrYHqrgIdDX3q6CA3IX2NTgmgCKr6qmtGmQpOwJEwgYNZB1K9pfOAKg6=s1920" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjlP8ATyfHGcR44f6fewKS14-DUSFdk9ON_Z4CPPvLnEoVrm2eDAK2Sb6XOuoDRI58K5wpIJgbOtjWo-glvOueoheSQE24EgkHJ_UmaDdJxGgfBiU8LNN2-vQmBgA4PV6C5QrYHqrgIdDX3q6CA3IX2NTgmgCKr6qmtGmQpOwJEwgYNZB1K9pfOAKg6=w470-h280" width="470" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Have yall heard of doing want, need, wear, read for Christmas? You essentially buy your kids one thing in each category. We <i>loosely </i>followed it this year and it was fun and kept the chaos <i>slightly </i>at bay (my husband would disagree)</p><p>I thought it would be fun to do something similar on Mondays- so without further adieu here's what we've been</p><p><br /></p><p>Wanting: I just restocked a lot of my makeup favorites this month. I tried out Ilias skin serum super tint a couple months ago and really liked it. I picked up another shade and also their mascara, lip oil, setting powder, and a new concealer. If you haven't used them yet, I highly recommend! Their shade match is pretty spot on too- it is VERY hard to figure out the true color via the computer so definitely send in a selfie, they are so spot on. I sent in my picture 3x because I kept deleting the email with their recommendations đ With that being said, I want to pick up <a href="https://iliabeauty.com/products/drawn-in" target="_blank">this</a> bronzer for summer and <a href="https://iliabeauty.com/products/at-last" target="_blank">this</a> multi-stick which I have heard great things about.</p><p><br /></p><p>Needing: a vacuum. We sent our one and only vacuum to Dyson on December 9th and it's been... delayed/being repaired since. Thinking about a stick vacuum but ugh who wants to shell out that kind of money. Anyone have any suggestions- this is an adulting question for sure! Welcome to your midthirties.</p><p><br /></p><p>Wearing: I've had <a href="https://www.target.com/p/women-s-rib-beanie-universal-thread/-/A-82571293?preselect=82191784#lnk=sametab" target="_blank">this</a> beanie on repeat and just bought it in pink as well. I know everybody and their daughter, mother, sister, friend, child is wearing carhart this winter but... I just can't. I also bought <a href="https://www.freepeople.com/shop/movement-cool-down-beanie/?color=004&countryCode=US&gclid=CjwKCAiAlrSPBhBaEiwAuLSDUD8ZygUPP9ea9Y0GOwStRODSoI4zk5zWvJj8ipcYMmrJlQIfT80IchoCKEwQAvD_BwE&gclsrc=aw.ds&inventoryCountry=US&size=One%20Size&utm_kxconfid=vx6ro62gj&type=REGULAR&quantity=1" target="_blank">this</a> one over the weekend and will let you know, I fell in love with the pattern on it. </p><p><br /></p><p>Reading: I just finished The Woman in Cabin 10. It was good but not great to me I would rate it a 6.5/10. Somewhat thrilling at the beginning but the storytelling gets a bit redundant. </p><p><br /></p><p>Whats on your want, need, wear, read list? <br />Have a great Monday friends!</p>Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-88959868371640307142022-01-21T10:23:00.005-05:002022-01-21T10:45:35.768-05:00How I handle my SAD otherwise known as EVERY PERSON WHO LIVES IN N. AMERICA<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEigxjpNyf-OzAXnIK82GHkvQjnPsD78uENGXbybALs_4tnOnW3aYaJEC6XiOP_xW3ZAm-dv76iNrdT2Hu24XeKvR_jIvCGMtD8C8kElOG1shAEbzX72_kQQsW0rG1DKRbDrweN4sQ0HluzovOHNP1tMagTCJOm9RcBACclR3Vpow8Nz-vn9tfddQM9Y=s2016" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEigxjpNyf-OzAXnIK82GHkvQjnPsD78uENGXbybALs_4tnOnW3aYaJEC6XiOP_xW3ZAm-dv76iNrdT2Hu24XeKvR_jIvCGMtD8C8kElOG1shAEbzX72_kQQsW0rG1DKRbDrweN4sQ0HluzovOHNP1tMagTCJOm9RcBACclR3Vpow8Nz-vn9tfddQM9Y=w306-h408" width="306" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>When I moved to NC, I kind of (naively) thought my seasonal depression days were behind me. "Here I come" I thought! Sunshine! Warm days! Winter is behind me.</p><p><br /></p><p>Turns out, we still have winter here. And while it is not the oppressive four-five month long ordeal that Cleveland is, we still have our fair share of overcast skies, rain for days on end, and overall womp womp feeling that just settles in during January and early February.</p><p>So in the spirit of figuring things out and pushing ahead no matter what- here are my top recommendations for getting through winter as best as possible</p><p><br /></p><p>1) HYDRATE. I don't know if this has a direct link to depression but I do know that N.O.T.H.I.N.G. in your body will work right if you aren't well hydrated. I have a difficult time drinking cold beverages in the winter so I drink a LOT of herbal tea. If I am feeling off, the first thing I try to do is drink a big glass of water.</p><p>2) Sunless tanner. I know, I know, some of you are going to give me grief over this one. But I swear, just looking down and not seeing ghost legs with flaky skin helps my mood. I am currently using <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Self-Tanner-Organic-Ingredients-Buildable/dp/B09J1LZCWH/ref=sr_1_1_sspa?crid=2XPD75U5S5MQT&keywords=b%2Bbeauty%2Bself%2Btanner&qid=1642777020&sprefix=b%2Bbeauty%2Caps%2C105&sr=8-1-spons&spLa=ZW5jcnlwdGVkUXVhbGlmaWVyPUExME4wM0tJUTZYVjhPJmVuY3J5cHRlZElkPUEwNDc5NzAzMzRVTFpDUTJOQ0lCNiZlbmNyeXB0ZWRBZElkPUEwODY0Mzg0V0g2UTQzSlFDN1lUJndpZGdldE5hbWU9c3BfYXRmJmFjdGlvbj1jbGlja1JlZGlyZWN0JmRvTm90TG9nQ2xpY2s9dHJ1ZQ&th=1" target="_blank">this</a> one, but I feel like I need to be honest and say I've never quite managed a streakless look with it (there is always one **** area that smudges), I plan on trying <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Skinerals-Sunless-Californium-Ingredients-Alternative/dp/B01N983MOY/ref=sr_1_5?crid=3U60XUDHBYKT7&keywords=skinerals&qid=1642777089&sprefix=skinerals%2Caps%2C139&sr=8-5" target="_blank">this</a> one next.</p><p>3) Setting an alarm. This week I set my alarm to wake up well before my kids and it helps. I journaled, I prayed, I threw a pity party that I am living in a climate where it gets cold and sometimes I feel sad. LOL, and then I moved the **** on with my day. I made time for what <i>I </i>wanted to do and then got to what <i>needs </i>to be done.</p><p>4) Motivation begets motivation. When I am feeling depressed, the last thing I want to do is move, or accomplish anything. Creating a list of tasks that need to be accomplished helps and I even noticed a positive difference in my kids. They are home from school today so I made a quick "chore list" and my daughter was beaming at me when she finished saying "I feel so good mom" and then yes, they transitioned to chilling and watching TV. If you don't know where to start, I usually find a task that I really want done but subconsciously have been waiting for someone else to do (organizing my closet, cleaning out the screened in porch, etc) and then I get it done. It feels so good to get a big task out of the way and makes the little tasks of the day (dinner, food prep, cleaning, etc a little easier)</p><p>5) Dreaming. I am a huge dreamer and nothing lifts my spirits more than planning for the future. Whether its the next trip we are going to take, or looking at dresses for my best friends wedding (have you all SEEN the spring dresses?! They are a VIBE and I am here for it) it feels good to know there are things to look forward to and that I will eventually be warm. </p><p><a href="https://www.asos.com/us/asos-edition/asos-edition-blouson-sleeve-midi-dress-in-organza-check-in-blush/prd/200747959?affid=26521&freelisting=yes" target="_blank">This</a> dress is my favorite! đ but the price! I also like <a href="https://www.asos.com/us/asos-design/asos-design-lace-midi-dress-with-cape-sleeve-and-peplum-hem/prd/22113838?affid=26521&freelisting=yes" target="_blank">two</a>, <a href="https://www.asos.com/us/asos-design/asos-design-pleated-tiered-midi-dress-with-open-back-in-yellow-based-ditsy-floral-print/prd/23244696?affid=26521&freelisting=yes">three</a>, <a href="https://www.asos.com/us/asos-design/asos-design-wrap-around-pleated-midi-dress-in-floral-print/prd/14358097?affid=25902&_cclid=Google_CjwKCAiA0KmPBhBqEiwAJqKK4xBBgw1Bg91zJd5wDBooo5ahHs_7b_XcTw2HrizImxRifSUyvSOYvBoCujEQAvD_BwE&channelref=product+search&mk=abc&ppcadref=11302983040%7c111197600375%7cpla-294682000766&cpn=11302983040&gclid=CjwKCAiA0KmPBhBqEiwAJqKK4xBBgw1Bg91zJd5wDBooo5ahHs_7b_XcTw2HrizImxRifSUyvSOYvBoCujEQAvD_BwE&gclsrc=aw.ds">four</a>, and <a href="https://www.asos.com/us/asos-design/asos-design-ruched-bust-midi-dress-in-mixed-texture-in-blush/prd/23392117?affid=26521&freelisting=yes">five</a>!</p><p>6) A good cry, therapy session, gab session. Sometimes I just need to talk about my feeling, okay a lot of times I just need to talk about my feelings. My long time friends and I just set up a monthly or 2x monthly zoom call and it's amazing how much life it gives me to connect with these people that have known me for over half my life. It helps me connect to who I used to be, see how much I've grown, and just generally laugh my ass off!</p><p>7) Supplements. I try to be extra diligent about taking my vitamins in the winter. There's lots of extra germs floating around and my body generally tends to feel a little under the weather. I take a collagen, vitamin B, ashwaganda, CBD, and others as I feel I need it. It takes a lot of time/effort/mistakes to figure out what works for you and when to take certain things but they can definitely change the game!</p><p>8) A good book, AKA finding something you enjoy. Christian LOVES his shows and definitely likes to unwind with the TV. I watch TV in the evening but it's not necessarily what relaxes me/fills me with those good vibes. A good book thought? Count me in, I've recently been branching out in my reads and have loved <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Home-Before-Dark-A-Novel/dp/B07ZPF1GN2/ref=sr_1_3?crid=3NNTY5X5RO2II&keywords=riley+sager&qid=1642779488&sprefix=riley+sager%2Caps%2C121&sr=8-3" target="_blank">this</a>, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Lock-Every-Door-Riley-Sager-audiobook/dp/B07N4989J9/ref=sr_1_5?crid=3NNTY5X5RO2II&keywords=riley+sager&qid=1642779488&sprefix=riley+sager%2Caps%2C121&sr=8-5" target="_blank">this</a>, and <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Restoration-Celia-Fairchild-Novel/dp/B08BX9KWFR/ref=sr_1_1?crid=182YADGHIENV6&keywords=restoration+of+celia+fairchild&qid=1642779573&sprefix=restoration+of+celia+fairchild%2Caps%2C93&sr=8-1" target="_blank">this</a>. I listened to <a href="https://www.amazon.com/You-Are-Badass%C2%AE-Doubting-Greatness/dp/B088P8QL1N/ref=sr_1_1?crid=RC6WZ8L9ET5P&keywords=you+are+a+badass&qid=1642779661&s=audible&sprefix=you+are+a+badass%2Caudible%2C79&sr=1-1" target="_blank">one</a> and<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Playing-Big-Tara-Mohr-audiobook/dp/B00ODBIQT4/ref=sr_1_1?crid=3POLLDR905738&keywords=playing+big&qid=1642779696&s=audible&sprefix=playing+big%2Caudible%2C89&sr=1-1" target="_blank"> two</a> on audible (finally figured out non fiction is best read out loud to me like a podcast as I'll never make it through otherwise) and am excited to read <a href="https://www.amazon.com/House-Across-Lake-Novel/dp/0593183193/ref=sr_1_2?crid=3NNTY5X5RO2II&keywords=riley+sager&qid=1642779488&sprefix=riley+sager%2Caps%2C121&sr=8-2" target="_blank">this</a> and <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Audible-Lemon/dp/B09GW6MGSZ/ref=sr_1_1?crid=395XKJY6DMKQA&keywords=lemon&qid=1642779637&s=audible&sprefix=lemon%2Caudible%2C101&sr=1-1" target="_blank">this</a>. I have a goal of 100 books this year... dun dun dun! </p><p><br /></p><p>Alright, so give me your secrets! What things to do you do to help yourself get through the winter?</p><p>Stay warm!</p>Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-20686665215055536572021-05-13T23:17:00.001-04:002021-05-13T23:17:25.217-04:00Lost.losing. it is a word that describes so much, almost too much. you can lose a hair tie, or a battle with cancer. you can lose your way to a concert or your way in your life. <div><br /></div><div>I've lost out on parts in plays (10th grade), I've lost out on love (college breakup comes to mind). I've lost my sense of direction and my appetite. We are not strangers, losing and I.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yet, I still find myself shying away when we encounter each other anew for the day. <i>Oh hello loss, you want to touch this day as well? </i>Even now, five years later, it feels as if I could only turn a page, find the answers I skipped over, get the questions right this time. </div><div><br /></div><div>My chest feels the weight as I sat with a friend and described not having my mom. "It never goes away because I find a different way I've lost her every day" The hollow realization that this the what awaits my own daughter. The pain, oh the pain, I've never lost the pain.</div><div><br /></div><div>At times, I am able to manage it, to walk with a slight limp. Other times it confines me to a never ending cycle of PTSD and depression. My thoughts spin themselves into a flurry. The ever underwhelming phrase "it's not fair" comes to mind. Right behind it, the fear of something worse happening, losing another child, to cancer perhaps, a twisted combination of living both the loss of my mom and my daughter. </div><div><br /></div><div>Everything aches, nothing is safe. I've lost so many things, my keys, my virginity, my naivete. How does one put an end to the suffering? What wont be touched? How can I hold on tighter? </div><div><br /></div><div>My thoughts spin themselves shallow. I am forever without words.</div>Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-6184118900449037392020-11-29T20:21:00.002-05:002020-11-29T20:21:26.576-05:00life<p> i just went back and read all these extremely introspective and also totally self-centered blog posts from 2009. in a way it was comforting, because although so much has changed over the pasty 11 years, my internal core struggles have remained the same. disheartening perhaps, but comforting. </p><p><br /></p><p>11 years later and i,</p><p><br /></p><p>still have no idea what i am doing</p><p>still question the role i play in my own life</p><p>still worry about life passing me by and not accomplishing anything</p><p><br /></p><p>the good news is that some of those hard earned lessons i learned with guy stuck around for the single part 2 episode of my life. jesus, i'm glad i'm not in my early twenties anymore, for the most part. there was a lot of "why doesn't so and so like me" also in 2009, i had a crazy year which i documented via a month by month breakdown of my behavior. there is a part of me that misses that, just this whole self-obsession of wondering about myself. now i wonder about myself but i also have to wonder about four other people and they let me know an a daily basis that i'm not doing enough.</p><p><br /></p><p>in all honesty though, i feel a little lost. i was talking to Christian the other day and i was essentially like "I always thought I would run a marathon. When I planned my life, I just always thought I would be that girl" and here I am, not getting younger and I feel I have to decide. Will I run one? and it's not just that, it's just that I thought my life would go a certain way and it most definitively isn't. beyond just the bad stuff of course because that would fuck my anyone up. but i just struggle and i don't struggle lightly with like "should i do keto again" (jokes, i've never done keto guys). it's a struggle of "why doesn't God do <i>this?" </i>And then I think well if God is inside of me should i be accomplishing it on my own? What about all these dreams I have, what the hell is happening there? Oh you just aren't working towards them? cool, </p><p>Guys, I compose the best shit in my head. The best books, the best speeches, the best interviews. My head is a never ending story of life and love and all of these beautiful things and then I try to get them out of my head and it just doesn't work. I give up or fall apart. How do I care about myself enough to get these unlocked? AND WHAT IF IT'S ALL POINTLESS ANYWAY? </p><p>there's so many creative forces on social media these days. and i hate social media guys, like i just do. i freaking hate it and the whole process of it stresses me out, but then i just tell myself "YOU DON'T CARE ENOUGH TO WORK" I am always so mean to myself, it's a habit I am working on but not very consistently.</p><p><br /></p><p>The end of the year gets me. Another year rolling on by. I still don't quite feel my age though. As in, I still feel like I've lived way more life than 33 years. Not quite as much as I did at 29 but still a good amount. I have experienced the depths of pain and still come out on the other side somehow. But what do I have to show for it? Not as much as I wish I did. </p><p><br /></p><p>I'm ready to level up though. I'm ready to not be so consumed by my shortcomings. I'm ready to just move the fuck on with it. </p><p><br /></p><p>and if you want me to give a speech, i'm ready for it.</p>Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-69521022330300181752020-06-08T22:48:00.002-04:002020-06-08T22:48:49.245-04:00This is the cost of love<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
We view love as an emotional thing. A feeling perhaps? A flux state? But it's not. Love is grief, and grief is love. It devours, you are the prey. No part of you left hidden when it visits. <br />
<br />
The day Ellery died, I remember staring at myself in the mirror and I couldn't recognize myself. My face was swollen like I had been beaten. My eyes were two slits from which tears someone managed to seep out. My lips were dry and cracked. My entire body, limb to limb, torn apart. My stomach betrayed me, making me violently ill. My head pounded. I clutched it in my hands. Willing the seconds, that felt like hours, weigh on me oppressively, while the truth pounded itself into my head behind my eyes.<br />
<br />
YOUR DAUGHTER IS DEAD<br />YOUR DAUGHTER IS DEAD<br />
YOUR DAUGHTER IS DEAD<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I stood there, or laid there, or fell there. The truth seeming to pound itself into every cell individually. My shock registering one atom at a time. Everything you knew till this moment has been shattered. Your entire soul is ripped in half. A being that came from your being, lungs that came from your lungs, a heart that came from your heart,<br />
<br />
is gone. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
This is the cost of love. Unconditional, pure love where you don't know where their breath ends and yours begins. The love that entwines you so that the vines never truly unravel from your waist. <br />
<br />
The love that keeps you carrying the suitcase when it feels as if the weight of it might crush you. Every day for the rest of your life, you wake up with the suitcase on your chest. You carry it with you to work... to your family. To your house and car and vacation. The suitcase is at every sunrise and every sunset. Sometimes it seems as if you have carried it your whole life.<br />
<br />
<br />
This is the cost of love.<br />
<br />Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-90490180739173728482019-12-18T10:25:00.000-05:002019-12-18T10:25:03.996-05:00creation before consumptiona friend recently remarked that in this age, to give life to herself she created a habit of creating before consuming. so before she hops on social media, before she reads the articles about the must haves... she creates something with her own hands, eyes, heart.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
the simplicity in this rocked me. how often do i look to consume to fill my heart rather than creating. art is truly an expression of God. yesterday, i had a heavy day in counseling and my feelings were getting the better of me, add in a rainy day and grey skies and i felt overwhelmed. so i sat down an did some lettering... fo the first time ever. my mom did beautiful calligraphy and i've always wanted to try.<br />
<br />
in this moment i have about 6 blog posts that i want to read. but i challenged myself to write here first. to share even though i don't feel there is much to share. but sometimes that is what we need. someone to say, not much is going on, but i am still taking small steps. i'm improving in small ways. <br />
<br />
i had such a soul filling conversation last night. a reminder that small things can make or break big things. a reminder that we are meant to create and sometimes the very things that we turn to in order to "help" us are the things that are holding us back. <br />
<br />
i love self-development books. i love people telling me how to let that shit go and saying i am a badass. but i'm done with it for a while. the first step of trusting yourself is to let the opinions of others fall by the wayside, and i need a break. i need a break of trying to get through the next step, of following other people's plans, coaching, or courses. what i need to do is lean into myself. into the God in me, to get quiet and listen.<br />
<br />
to spend more time journaling and less time reading.<br />
to spend more time doing and less time thinking.<br />
<br />
2020, i am ready.Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-39932019121826785012019-12-14T19:53:00.001-05:002019-12-14T19:53:45.384-05:00Carry the WeightSometimes it gets heavy. The feeling on my chest of just not quite being able to breathe as freely as I should. The slight trembling in my hands. The wracking of my brainââ what did I do differently<br />
Today? Why am I upset today? What is wrong with me that I canât get a grip on myself. Why am I so mean? Why do I shut down? <br />
<br />
Donât touch me<br />
Leave me alone<br />
<br />
Iâve read 101 books on positive mindsets, on shifting your perspective, on turning trials into triumphs and still sometimes I get stuck in this mud. I canât seem to pull myself out. The thoughts are there. Youâll always be like this Bria. Itâs not going to get better.<br />
<br />
So I sit with those thoughts. I invite them in and give them a cup of coffee. I ask why they made their entrance today. We sit and cry together. Itâs dark today and I need a blanket to stay warm. <br />
<br />
He feels left out, they feel left out.<br />
I donât know how to let anyone in. I am a prisoner - I donât have the keys (you think theyâd give them to me?). I sit quietly in my cell- sometimes I get tired of trying. <br />
<br />
Wats the point in trying when trees can strike you down?<br />
<br />
Whatâs the point in trying when you still have bad days?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-5531751328183561882019-03-07T05:17:00.000-05:002019-03-07T05:17:44.486-05:00happy birthday dear oneelly,<br />
<br />
another birthday apart. i hope you are having a fabulous time. it seems very very unfair that a mom wouldn't get to be with her child on their birthday but i am doing my best to trust that it will all work together. <br />
<br />
we only had one birthday together, the precious one where i met you and laid eyes on you for the very first time. i miss you so much. <br />
<br />
i gave away most of your baby things, i wanted them to go to little babies who could fill them out now. i tried so hard to remind myself of you after you left elly, tokens and gifts and material things... but the reality is, no material object comes close to touching that loss. they are well meaning- but misguided. <br />
<br />
my longing for you is different, i never catch myself wondering where your stuff is. but when we are all in the car and my heart skips a beat because i feel like we left something, that's when i feel the pang for you. the knowledge that something (someone) is missing. <br />
<br />
i hope to spread some kindness today, i hope your birthday kicks me into being generous instead of a self-pity party. i hope to show extra love to Addy, Lane and Nyah in honor of you.<br />
<br />
i hope you experience kindness too, i hope my mom or another maternal person wraps you in a great big hug today until i can get to do it myself. i hope you get to see a rainbow or fresh dew on flowers and feel breezes in your hair. <br />
<br />
<br />
I love you Ellery Ann,<br />
I will choose hope,<br />
Love,<br />
your momBriahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-17349937591599119032019-03-01T13:47:00.002-05:002019-03-01T13:47:35.007-05:00less2019 is my year of less.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
of less noise, distractions, and scheduling conflicts. less fights with my kids, less toys to step on, less clutter, less hurt, less less less.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
the ironic thing is, in getting less- i have more. more time with my kids when i'm not worried about my things, more time for myself after the kids go to bed. i've spent the better part of the last two-three months devouring books on minimalism. i have given away hundreds of pounds of possessions. an extra comforter we don't need, books i haven't read in years, toys that aren't played with. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
i've dumped out drawers and donated clothes, pulled out almost every item and realized the weight of the responsibility of bringing an item into my house. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
this is not ground breaking information but it is a groundbreaking movement in my life. i am not the first one to realize the complete overwhelm of the american lifestyle that we work endlessly to achieve. the feeling of "if we had a little bit more..." </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
if we had more money we could finally get out of debt</div>
<div>
if we had more time we could finally spend some time with our kids</div>
<div>
if we had more more more</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
i think grief is such an interesting place to approach minimalism from because possessions can mean so much when you go through grief. you get these things because green was their favorite color, or elephants remind you of them.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
it's been in giving my items away though that i have felt truly free. Marie Kondo said one of the most freeing things in her book <i>The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
essentially</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
it is not the memories that we need to treasure but who we have become because of those experiences that we need to embrace.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It was so freeing to me. Freeing to let go of my past because I am no longer in it. Free to let go of duplicates and trust that when the time comes I can find a replacement. Free to let go, let go, let go. Every closet in our house has extra room in it right now. Lane's room is the last to be fully decluttered as we are in the process of adding shelves to his closet. My house takes ten minutes to get picked up at night. I know where <i>most </i>of our stuff is (the garage is still a little bit of a mess and we still have some work to do overall). </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There is room, room in our house for people to walk in and be themselves, for messes to get made because the surfaces are clear, for art projects that before had pieces scattered everywhere.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have gotten more of what matters by giving up what didn't.</div>
Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-68854441708862264672019-02-10T06:10:00.002-05:002019-02-10T06:10:40.843-05:00Minimalism and HealingThis past week, I dropped off loads and loads of things. Things kept in boxes and duffel bags for the past three years.<br />
<br />
The things that I was gripping onto so tightly, in fear that's what I needed. Six copies of Ellery's memorial service on DVD, two swimsuits she never wore, a baby blanket that never touched her, stuffed animals she never played with.<br />
<br />
The things that I thought would keep me close to my daughter, but were really just gathering dust in my closet.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I had the unique experience of being 28 and coming face to face with realizing what exactly you get to take with you when you die, which, spoiler alert, is nothing and also our current mortality rate, which seems to still be peaking at 100%. After Jim died, I was so overwhelmed, we like most families, had accumulated a four bedroom house full of stuff and he loved his things. <br />
<br />
I was faced with going through box after box, drawer after drawer, pile after pile. Sorting, surrounded by the things that couldn't save him and empty tokens of a life that far surpassed his mass of things. A job most people go through for the first time when sorting through their parents things. <br />
<br />
The feeling of overwhelm, of anxiety, of being frozen to the spot, I believe this is linked to holding onto our possessions far beyond when they serve us.<br />
<br />
Every moment is lived once. There are so many moments I would love to live again but it's not the case and no amount of mementos or snapshots or baby booties can bring me back to them. We take these possessions with us as if they are time travelers, able to convey us back to the moment at will but it's all a falsehood.<br />
<br />
I believe in confronting our physical things, we confront our emotional beings, the hurt, the trauma, the past. Hurt for a while, is like a wet blanket. It's not comfortable, but it seems better than nothing. Eventually though, it starts to feel itchy, uncomfortable, we wonder what a life without it would be like but are too scared to part with it. <br />
<br />
We stockpile and we hoard, we can't imagine without so we never go without. We buy in bulk, we take two handfuls when one would do. <br />
<br />
I'm linked to my daughter because I'm linked to her through energy and connection that I'll never be able to understand. I'm linked to her because I have faith that we will be together again, I'm linked to her because she was made in me, I gave her life. The sad pile of things though? The items I bought over and over again, thinking they would give me a greater connection to her? Those were robbing me of space, space to move on, to heal. <br />
<br />
The truth is, immediately following I felt great. I was glad to know that another baby would be using those items I had picked out with such care. And then I've kind of crashed. I am struggling, sad and upset. Did I push too fast? Did I get rid of too much? Did I pull the bandaid off before I was ready? <br />
<br />
No, but I made space, space in my heart and in my life. I was immediately faced with a fight to fill that space. I think the devil is trying to fill that space with doubt and disappointment and fatigue, but it's mean to be filled with contentment and grace and love. But damn is it a hard fight. <br />
<br />
James 1:17 <span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Ephesians 6:12 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. </span>Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-73489373806887013062019-01-16T13:16:00.001-05:002019-01-16T13:16:24.458-05:00when 2016 hit me, i knew what was going to happen after that. and it's interesting, as we enter 2019 to sit back and share this, what has made me the most vulnerable.<br />
<br />
more vulnerable than losing my child and my husband was that in the aftermath, i felt it had been wasted.<br />
<br />
after it all happened, i spent the next year making plans, plans about how it wasn't going to break me, plans on how to share my story, plans on breaking silence and stigma, building a successful career out of hardship, using my story to provide for my children, being an entrepreneur.<br />
<br />
and then, on the very last day of 2016, 9 months since i lost my husband, i wrote in my journal that i wanted to find love in the next year. <br />
<br />
my steps since then have been so different than what i thought. i suddenly found myself in a very serious relationship and 6 months after that, found out i was expecting. Christian and i are about to celebrate our two year (dating anniversary) next month and in that year we have, moved in together, bought a house together, gone through pregnancy, had a baby, and gotten married. <br />
<br />
and through all of those amazing steps, i wondered why i'm not speaking, why i'm not writing my book, why is my story being wasted. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
since the new year started, i have had powerful lies revealed in my life. lies that i believed the narrative of without questioning. <br />
<br />
that the pain was all a waste<br />
<br />
that i am squandering my time<br />
<br />
that i was meant to do something different<br />
<br />
<br />
in all honesty, i was having a hard time being content in this season. because as unexpected as those losses were, the follow up steps have been JUST AS UNEXPECTED. and that is the crux of it all, that we as humans, can get knocked completely on our asses and still get up and feel that we can figure it out. <br />
<br />
but i cannot figure it out. i cannot figure out why so many of my dreams have been put on hold. and to be honest, i am done trying. and so i sit, i sit in my season. today i wrote these truths on the mirror<br />
<br />
"God has equipped me"<br />
"my children are my ministry"<br />
"the power within me is greater than the forces outside of me"<br />
<br />
I have been devouring Bible verses about self-talk, about fixing our thoughts, focusing on what is joyful and mindful. I am striving to hold every thought captive and make it obedient to Christ. I have written my reminders everywhere, reciting them as often as I can. First thing in the morning, last thing at night.<br />
<br />
I am done with the lies about myself and my story. I am done with striving to make the pain have a purpose. <br />
<br />
Because that energy? that energy could be put to my babies, to my partner, to myself. To joy, to laughter, to contentment. I am content in my season.<br />
<br />Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-83254155156258177692019-01-03T22:35:00.000-05:002019-01-03T22:35:03.680-05:00failing.its 2019. and i, always a resolutionist, have scoured and wracked my brain for what i want. what i want to do, to accomplish, to be this year. and to be honest, i haven't come up with much yet.<br />
<br />
1. run our local towns race in June<br />
2. a night away with Christian (havent done this yet in our two years of being together)<br />
3. slow down<br />
<br />
<br />
and maybe that's why i haven't tacked things on, maybe i don't want to look at a long list of things i didn't accomplish or didn't get to, things i failed at again.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
i'm on a break from instagram. i am terrible with instagram, for some reason i can see past so many social media platforms- i don't use snapchat anymore, facebook is a rarity, but man that instagram gets me. <br />
<br />
the beauty, the hilarity, the poignant. it's all there. inspiration and life tips, cardi b, it's all so accessible. and i spent a lot of time on it. <br />
<br />
then christmas season started. and my feed was suddenly 50 trees all lit with garlands, families posing and smiling, and so in a moment of "if i see one more freaking gingerbread house before christmas comes, i will lose it! NO ONE EVEN LIKES MAKING GINGERBREAD HOUSES AND THEY TASTE LIKE TRASH" i deleted the app and it's not reinstalled yet. although in all honesty, i hopped on after christmas via safari and scrolled, caught up on kulture, you know the important things.<br />
<br />
but my break from instagram went deeper than just a break from other peoples highlight reels. because something embarrassing happened when we moved into this house and i have just realized it in the past month or so. <br />
<br />
when we moved, i paid for our bedroom walls to be painted white, because everyone i follow on instagram had white walls and they are the BEST, right boo? the best, so clean and pristine.<br />
<br />
guys - i hate my white walls. hate them. i can't rest, they feel sterile, like my eyes are constantly bouncing because it's so reflective. and because i have lofted ceilings, it's not really like a paint it yourself kind of deal. so here i am 31 years old and painting my house to be like someone else, to emulate someone else. and that's embarrassing, and messed up. <br />
<br />
and i need a break, i need to know who i am, at my core. without the distraction of looking at everyone else's capsule wardrobe, toddler meals, wall colors (LOL), book list to read. <br />
<br />
what does bria weigle barber want? because somewhere along the way in this journey, i started censoring myself again. i came out of my pain a little bit and honestly, just desperately wanted to return to normal. i wanted to be normal. i let what i think other people think about me LIMIT my own actions.<br />
<br />
are you getting that? i let what i think other people think limit me. i spend more time thinking about what other people will think about what i post, like, follow, or write than i do actually posting, liking, following, or writing. <br />
<br />
i didn't want to be the girl whose first husband passed away from suicide. i didn't want to be the girl whose ex-father in law writes her emails about how her children suffer under her care. i didn't want to live all these uncomfortable and painful truths that somehow i found myself living. i didn't want to be the prodigal girl that returned to the church. i didn't want to be the girl that still drinks to much even though she always regrets it. i didn't want to be the girl who hasn't seen half her family for most of her life, whose mom passed away, the girl who felt unlovable, who still feels that way, the girl who wished not to be here, the girl who sometimes feels like she can't move because of depression.<br />
<br />
who i don't want to be can go on and on. but i have to own my truth. and for whatever reason (i like to think it's because God works through suffering and he is going to work through me) this is my story. <br />
<br />
pain is still pain, and sometimes when it becomes manageable pain. when you aren't drowning in pain, it becomes easier to stifle, to ignore, to pretend. in the beginning, i had no choice but to be raw, to be vulnerable, to be real. and sometimes when you have been in really deep pain, going back into it seems scary, like there is anything else i would rather do than sit in my pain and be okay with it and then come tell you about sitting in it via blog and public platform where people can pick it apart and ask me questions about it. <br />
<br />
and so this is my resolution. in 2019, i'm not going to be afraid of pain. i'm not going to limit myself by what i think others will think (that phrase gets me every time), i'm going to hit publish on my raw and on my real, and i am going to stay the fuck off instagram. <br />
<br />
here's to 2019!Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-74694598573351277662018-10-07T14:01:00.000-04:002018-10-07T14:01:34.415-04:00six.six years ago you were placed in my arms. all 4lbs15oz of you, tiny and perfect. a culmination of love. <br />
<br />
six years ago, it seems like we have lived a lifetime together in those six years. four houses, two states, three schools, three siblings, two dads. it's been a ride. <br />
<br />
but i want to tell you about what i am thankful for addy, because most of all- i am thankful for you. you, who being the spitting image of me is constantly causing me to grow.<br />
<br />
you whose heart is sensitive and caring.<br />
you whose aptitude for language and reading is beyond her years.<br />
you whose joy and infectious laugh brings a light to every day.<br />
you whose generous spirit does its best to make everyone feel included.<br />
you whose unique sense of identity shines through in her ever changing hairstyles.<br />
you whose developing determination is proving how well you can stick with something.<br />
<br />
<br />
i love you.<br />
i promise to do my best.<br />
<br />
happy happy birthday sweet girl!!!<br />
i love you,<br />
mommyBriahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-28189015325688717002018-07-29T13:23:00.000-04:002018-07-29T13:23:08.661-04:00Praise Him for He is good, His love endures foreverthere were so many sundays that i sat in church and heard about how God will bring us through the darkest of times.<br />
<br />
there were so many moments that i was out figuratively in the wilderness, wondering if and when i would break through to the other side.<br />
<br />
i would sit and believe in my heart that the dead would raise and that life would come back but never in a million years did i think it would be quite like this.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
that i would know the joy of sitting in a church service and listening to a sermon "life conquers death" and hear "all suffering is temporary" and know in my heart that i had been delivered successfully out of my suffering.<br />
<br />
two years ago i typed: <i>never in my life has the gospel made so much and so little sense to me </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
and now two years later i am a living manifestation of the gospel of the love of God. a God who saw me in a very, very dark place and chose to let me continue to a place with no hope to display His hope to me. a God who in His MERCY allowed me to suffer that I might know the full and deep joy that comes after when one chooses to follow Him.<br />
<br />
<br />
I can't explain it logically to you all, I can't give an algorithm as to why it's true. I know only the eternal hope that lives in my heart. I know the beating heart that transplanted the heart of stone that existed before. I know the grace and mercy that follow me in each and every interaction with my children. <br />
<br />
and ya'll, for the first time in my life, I get the joy. I understand and feel the true JOY that comes from Him. <br />
<br />
May this day stand as a testament to future days when I don't feel it. May this stone never cease to worship the consistency and faithfulness of our Father in Heaven. and may my Hope in Him be ever on display. For I have been delivered out of a pit of despair and now sit in a valley of peace.<br />
<br />
<br />Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-83552206546673723832018-03-16T15:34:00.000-04:002018-03-16T15:34:05.250-04:00pregnancy<b>current morning routine </b><div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
making breakfast for addy and lane, getting them to school. i usually try to drink a glass of water in this time period and may or may not eat. once they are at school, i usually enjoy the silence for a while, sometimes i journal and fall back asleep, sometimes i use my "computer time" at this point to catch up. my morning are definitely about easing into my day.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>how does this pregnancy differ</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
this has been my hardest pregnancy physically. energy wise i was completely depleted at around 30 weeks and have now stopped working and am still enjoying the benefits of full time childcare until the summer. i never went through pregnancy not working/watching my own children before so that is a lot different. i've completely taken pressure off myself and am resting so much. it's been hard to connect with Christian when all i want to do is crash at 9pm and sleep till the morning. i've definitely had to be gentler with myself so i have energy for kids/man.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>cravings</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
typical, pickles, vinegar, spicy, carbs, ice cream has been a huge one. it's a constant cycle of i'm hungry/i ate too much and have heartburn.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>current state of mind</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
excitement and exhaustion. when the end is in sight it's a very weird threshold to be anticipating. in a couple weeks, i'll be holding a baby again. we'll see the face and how much it looks like or doesn't look like addy/lane. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>looking forward to</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
holding my baby, a beer, walking without waddling, the burst of energy that comes after the initial healing period, not getting heartburn, holding my baby, breweries, fitting into clothes</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>on being a blended family </b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
this is one of the more unique situations that i think you can experience as a family. obviously with their father being gone i have addy and lane all the time and so we focus a lot of all of us together. it makes it a lot easier in a lot of ways and adds a layer of complexity that most people don't encounter in typical blended situations. so far everyone is super supportive and loving which is great.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-27972617942895427302018-03-07T08:54:00.004-05:002018-03-07T08:54:36.343-05:002 yearshi baby,<br />
<br />
when I got home from dropping your siblings off at school today, I went through all the pictures I had of you. From the video of your birth to the fire station, it took me about an hour. There's no one I can look at and say, remember when she was born and we held her? Remember what it was like to look at our daughter for the first time? It feels empty still, not as bad as last year, but empty nonetheless. <br />
<br />
Last year I went and had my taxes done on your birthday, something I had been putting off, overwhelmed by, and to be honest, frightened of. This year, my taxes are done already. Who knows, maybe next year I'll do my taxes myself. It has been this weird journey, trying to put myself back together, knowing how fragile I am. Finding pieces of myself that I had forgotten about or didn't know where there.<br />
<br />
I don't know if I am quite to celebration yet. It is hard to remember the beautiful moments we had together without looking at the countdown clock in the background. Five weeks is not enough time for moments to slip by or memories be forgotten and then recalled. I remember every moment we had together in visceral detail. Since then I have lived the 5 weeks, 20 times over, apart from you in every second. Since then I have lived details and forgotten them, had beautiful, sweet moments with the kids that have already slipped from my memory because I have the privilege of "more." <br />
<br />
I don't try to live our moments together a lot, it hurts too badly, I slip too easily into only remembering that day. Instead I do my best to stay firmly grounded in the present, but it doesn't mean you weren't important to me and it doesn't mean I don't love you. I carry my love for you like the roots in the soil, there are so many beautiful things that remain unseen. That is my love for you. I carry my love for your like the currents deep in the ocean, like the clouds above our vision. That is my love for you. <br />
<br />
And so today, Elly, I will make some small goals and accomplish them. I will pick up fresh flowers and put some on my nightstand. I will think of you more often than not and I will look forward to when I get to see you again. Can you believe, we already have two years down? I am counting down the days till I see you baby. It is a long time, longer than most have to wait, but I am excited because I know it will happen. I know you will give me a hug and say you were okay. That you were safe while we were apart. That you knew you had my love when I wasn't there to show it. Ellery, I so badly wish I could celebrate with you today, I so badly wish we were together in person and not just in our hearts. I wish my love for you was shown every day like it is for Addy and Lane. <br />
<br />
You are loved sweet girl. Please give your dad and grandma and great grandma a hug and kiss from me and Addy and Lane. We all miss you all so much. I know you will have fun celebrating today. <br />
<br />
Till we are together again,<br />
Love,<br />
your mom<br />
<br />
<br />Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-82620483934544887272018-01-27T08:12:00.000-05:002018-01-27T08:12:10.212-05:00my experience with anxiety, PTSD, and managing symptomsi have struggled with anxiety for a long time. in high school and college, it manifested itself through an eating disorder. i remember my senior year of college, i would literally spend hours and hours filling out every online application available. not even taking the time to fill them properly, or check if the job was a good fit, but rather just throw my name out into the universe as if a blanketed approach of my name would guarantee safety and security.<br />
<br />
i was in therapy my senior year, i got a roommate to help manage my availability of purging, and eventually i found a job. anxiety continued to be beneath the surface for me. many times while we were married, jim would comment on how miserable i could make an entire weekend just by having an issue and not being willing to confront it due to my fear.<br />
<br />
throughout the three years of being a stay at home mom, i started learning about alternative methods to handle it, meditation, running, essential oils. my life seemed to be going pretty well, and i finally let go of the fear of waiting for the other shoe to fall. <br />
<br />
after they died, i most definitely slipped into a state of PTSD. the sounds of sirens or people screaming would undo me. i remember Addy would have these screaming fits and i would just be unable to cope. several times, we would be in the car, she'd be screaming, and i would just count down the minutes till we made it home. i would run inside the house and start screaming and punching pillows until exhausted and i felt i could safely and effectively parent them again. <br />
<br />
i would regularly have anxiety attacks, crying to the point of hyperventilation, feelings of absolute hopelessness. but eventually, they subsided... it took probably close to a year for regular ones to stop popping up. a lot of it, i credit to the stability and calming presence Christian brought to my life, i also stopped drinking for thirty days last may which seemed to help and i continued with self-discovery, internal healing (chiropractic and supplements) and <a href="https://braintaptechnology.com/" target="_blank">braintap</a> (which i can't recommend enough). <br />
<br />
typing all that to say, when i got pregnant. i knew that i would eventually have a breakdown. i didn't know when, i thought maybe it would wait until after i brought the baby home, but i've been waiting, watching the clock tick by on the weeks... 12 weeks and no panic attack, 20 weeks and no panic attack.<br />
<br />
this past week, i've been off, i've felt it. this wave that was building and building. i've felt like crying most days for no reason, i've been panicky and short. thursday on my way to work, i drove past a house that was in a crisis. ambulances, fire trucks, and police cars parked on the lawn - lights blazing, officers in heavy black boots and serious faces stomping in and out of the house. it almost happened then, but i managed it, texted christian, it took a couple hours but it subsided.<br />
<br />
last night i was laying in bed, kids, dogs, and christian all sleeping soundly. and the reel started playing. the reel of reality of watching my daughter die, of going to a fire station with her broken body, of never bringing her home, of my husband dying. and it happened, this overwhelming feeling of "i can't i can't i can't" i can't bring a baby home, what if something happens, what if i make a mistake, what if i can't be a good mom, christian would hate me, our relationship would fall apart. i can't i can't i can't. <br />
<br />
the fear is very real. the panic is very real. a lot of people have wondered, how i'm managing this pregnancy, how i am holding up mentally. it is no small feat to lose so much and then go through similar motions. there are so many feelings of not deserving the things i have because i lost so much, an undue feeling of blame and despair. <br />
<br />
but i made it through. i let the wave crash as terrible as it was. i eventually slept and eventually woke up today. i don't know if i will ever not have anxiety as part of my life. but i manage it now, i see it clearly for what it is when it comes. it is not a friend, a coping mechanism, or a managing tool. it is a crippling tool of defeat and slavery. <br />
<br />
it's ok to be honest about having anxiety or PTSD, it's ok to struggle, to wake up in a cold sweat with racing thoughts. but it's also ok to get better, to seek help when you need it, to be honest about what you need, want or desire in those moments. Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-81316698514185841972018-01-05T08:49:00.000-05:002018-01-05T08:49:07.432-05:00pregnancy after loss and writing when it doesn't hurtit is so difficult for me to write in the midst of joy, or of normality. after jim and elly died, i was able to write these compelling and heart-wrenching essays without any thought, or really any effort. it was more of a compulsion, a need to share. <br />
<br />
what am i in the middle of right now? freezing temps and a touch of SAD, aligning my actions with what i am deeming to be priority for our family, financial goals and getting financially right after purchasing a house. re-aligning the structural unit of our family.<br />
<br />
it is a pretty common occurrence, that when a parent passes away, the eldest child will normally step into the role, or do their best. addy did this for me, comforting me in the night when i was sobbing, in the day, i would unconsciously run things past her - not used to no longer having my partner to speak with. she went through the unthinkable with me and out of everyone, bore the brunt of the tragedy with me.<br />
<br />
the past six months or so, we have had to re-route her back to childhood as we best know how. reminding her that she is five, she no longer makes rules, and it is not her job to protect me. i think that's how everyone in my family feels. we are all stepping back into or defining new roles. christian as a step-parent, me as someone's partner, and my children as exactly that- my young children. when all of my words are used to explain how i feel to my partner, or all my thoughts are used in an untangling of myself and journal entries, i have so little to type out, so little to share. we are in such a fragile time and as such, are in a protective time, a time of fostering what our family is.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
and then there is the babe, the promise of things yet to be. my pastor asked us to define our 2017 and pick a word for 2018. 2017 was renewal for me, "<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">an instance of resuming an activity or state after an interruption"</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white;">i am not sure i have picked 2018 yet. my emotions flurry around excitement, anxiousness, and just genuine joy. my goals are small but mighty, </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white;">to rely on internal renewal through the spirit to be more present and more patient for my children. my own efforts fail in a mighty way but the fruits of the spirit have been renewed and i see so much evidence of that recently. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white;">to align my actions with my priorities and to stop forcing bricks into the wrong spot, instead allowing things to be presented in their own time. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white;">2017 held the greatest gifts i have ever received. for that received after loss, the vulnerability of feeling the cruel, tentative grasp we have on life and allowing love back in is more valuable than the naive, blind understanding that love is ours for the taking. </span></span>Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-45580797478604908602017-12-08T12:35:00.000-05:002017-12-08T12:35:03.629-05:00we are so far from home, but so happyas 2017 draws to a close, it is difficult -if not impossible- to take stock of everything that has come my way this year. after the fire of 2016, i am standing here and am no longer in fields of ruin. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
restoration. it is an interesting concept. i myself buy into too many marketing schemes, always keeping an eye out for the new.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
one time addy points out a toy to me and i go, "but baby, you already had that toy, we didn't play with it and we gave it away"</div>
<div>
she goes, "but this one is new"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
and there is truth in that no? new clothes, new shoes, new skin creams. and there's not anything wrong with it. a fresh paint job on my nails and a new essential oil in my diffuser can go a long way in lifting my spirits. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
but restoration... that is a trickier concept. it's why divorce is often easier than saving a marriage, why cutting people off is easier than navigating difficult relationships. and there is no one size fits all, no black and white. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
sometimes we make cuts, sometimes we stay in it. i am working currently at rebuilding my family and what that looks like. at including all members - even ones we won't see on earth again. at making sure addy and lane always have ties to their dad that extend past me. losing a lover is so different than losing a parent or brother or child. lovers are defined in time periods. <i>my college boyfriend, my first marriage. </i> there is an impermanence to the permanent. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
i remember being around 12 or 13 and asking my dad who he loved more, my mom or stepmom. the question in itself, took a lot of courage for me, half of me was scared of the answer. he just told me "it's different, i love them differently" this was way before i had ever had my heart broken or truly loved and i didn't understand. i know my kids will possibly struggle with that same question - who did i love more? why could i move on so quickly? do i still love daddy?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
it's different. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
and here i am smack dab in the middle of navigating different. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-62578298724140509122017-10-30T22:04:00.000-04:002017-10-30T22:04:33.620-04:00these small moments that turn into big moments that are really just moments<br />
when i was probably ten or eleven, my dad had our kitchen redone. it was a big job of course, i remember the workers coming every day, messing up my tv schedule if i was home from school. my dad doesn't remember this, but he used to quiz me on the wood. <br />
<br />
i knew all different types of wood and their stains<br />
<br />
church pews? oak with a cherry stain<br />
<br />
i remember it being asked, and i distinctly remember getting the answer right. i brought this story up with him when i visited in april or when he came in july. this story that has lived on in my mind and has caused me all these years later, to constantly guess what wood is underneath my fingertips, supporting my elbows, or drawing my eyes up.<br />
<br />
the silly thing is, he didn't even remember doing this. it was probably a once or twice off thing to him. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
there are so many things that i don't want to forget. talking to my grandma about her family life growing up, the green shag carpet in her house, what every room felt like to me, or how she would put the pearls around my neck. walking to bob evans with her and ordering the popcorn shrimp. <br />
<br />
<br />
my grandpa, going up to the non-airconditioned third floor to play tea party. crammed into a small closet, where i had cut up place mats that served as our dessert. how he would always let me mess up his crossword puzzle by writing my own answer in, but only in one. how he would watch NYPD blue at night and never slept more than six hours, his great smile.<br />
<br />
<br />
my mom, the time i freaked out when she got acupuncture and was screaming and crying and begging her not to do it even though she said it didn't hurt, the time she cut off all her hair after it had started falling out, the time i saw these antique dolls are some sort of resale shop and she told me i couldn't get them but they somehow made it under the tree for christmas, how she helped me cut out christmas cookies, and drank carrot juice. <br />
<br />
<br />
the time i was sitting on the steps and my mom was in her hospital bed in the living room and my dad looked at me and said "do you think mommy is going to get better?"<br />
i said "yes of course"<br />
he said no.<br />
<br />
the morning i held addy and told her that daddy wasn't coming back.<br />
<br />
the casual afternoon she announced to me, "i can't remember daddy's voice anymore"<br />
<br />
//<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
i have withdrawn from most of social media recently, including my blog. there are ebbs and flows right? i got a forty hour job and somewhere in between working and buying a house and raising my kids and loving my boyfriend and all those really really beautiful things i have, i realized i cannot work on anything else right now. <br />
it takes every ounce of spare energy i have to that, work, kids, boyfriend, keeping myself sane.<br />
<br />
<br />
somehow i've slipped back into normal life, i'm not drinking to cope, i discuss things like netflix series and basketball games at work, things like traffic and bad weather legitimately stress me out without me thinking, "well it could be worse, someone could be dead". i don't feel the need to word vomit my story to every stranger i run into. i'm excited for the holidays.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
i'm in a cocoon. a really comfy, cozy one where i get to relax and be normal and get stressed about silly things, where i don't feel on display for what i went through, where everything has started to scar over and i cover the scars with long sleeves and pants. <br />
<br />
but i struggle with it. i struggle with wanting to share. with wanting to tell everyone, this in between phrase where you don't want the past to be too far in the past because that would mean that it's been too long since you've seen them but you also really want to take the shackles off. <br />
<br />
if i slip back into normality, does that mean it was all in vain? is the ghost of trying to make something of their deaths haunting me, or do i need to be doing more? <br />
<br />
<br />
// in other news, cavs don't look so good and this is us is solid. //Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-15986669245787949382017-10-14T07:35:00.000-04:002017-10-14T07:35:18.984-04:00If you wait, it's always too late.It's Saturday morning. I am sitting on the couch, Mickey Mouse clubhouse is on in the background, everyone - for the moment - is calmed by the bright lights and dancing figures on the screen. Christian is making breakfast in the background. <br />
<br />
This is life, right? And I've had so many different versions of life. Life as a traditional family, life as a single mom, life again in a non-traditional family. <br />
<br />
The thing with life is that, nothing really follows a time schedule. God knows, my life hasn't. I got a full time job smack dab in the middle of moving. I ended up planning a vacation when we had only been in our house a couple days. There is this tendency I think, to look at my life or one's own life and miss out because it's not following the timeline. <br />
<br />
There are some who think that by bringing someone new in so quickly I am doing my best to reclaim what I had. Maybe in a desperate way trying to fill in those roles. That I'm not quite ready. The crazy thing about the human experience though, is that there is no way to replace people, no way to re-create the unique and bright human experience that each person brings to the role. It's beautiful to be in a relationship again, but it's not the same, it will never be the same, and no one here is trying to make it be.<br />
<br />
The flip side of that is, no I was not ready. None of us ever are for the things that truly scare us. I was not ready to open my heart, not ready to expand my family again, but I jumped anyway. I think that's where true bravery lies, to those willing to try again, to those willing to leap, to those who say- I know what makes me happy and I will pursue it. <br />
<br />
My boss has a saying, procrastination is the thief of health and isn't that true of all. So many people are immobile, unwilling to try or do anything different. I meet and talk to so many people who are stuck in jobs they don't like, who are afraid to even admit what they want to the universe. <br />
<br />
If you want it, claim it. On December 31st, I wrote down what I wanted for myself in the New Year. Some of them didn't come to fruition (visiting my cousin in Hawaii- sorry Lys) but my main one did- to fall in love again. It was so scary to write that again, even in a journal. We have this tendency to just self-edit, to be always slightly okay with what things are, even if it's not what we want. <br />
<br />
Don't be scared to want something different than what you have. Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-83030760421252706322017-09-16T11:17:00.000-04:002017-09-16T11:17:56.981-04:00and life goes oni have been so just discombobulated recently. more than once, christian has come home to find me wasting away on the couch crying about not having a purpose while the house remains wrecked and there are literally a zillion things that could garner my attention.<br />
<br />
\\<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
i have such a clear idea of what i want to do, of what i feel i am meant to do. but i am so unsure of how to get there. i have literally no trust in moving forward regarding it. i also have a really hard time thinking i should get paid for it, that i'm valuable enough to be paid for it. basically i want to be a life coach, someone who can look at the pieces of your life, where you are going wrong or stalling or not letting light in and say, "what can we do to get this under control? what can we do to move forward?" so many of us are just waiting for life to hand us what we think we deserve. (did i just write that on my last post, i might've lol).<br />
<br />
i've been over here trying to get pretty menial job after menial job. and it's not that they aren't important or helpful or even necessary, i'm just not sure that's what i am supposed to be doing. it is so hard for me to invest in myself.<br />
<br />
Duke has a great and quick certification program. it takes about two months to complete, you have to have a bachelors for it and it certifies you as a "Integrated Health Coach" basically I would be able to help people with areas that are blocking their life whether it be nutritionally or emotionally and help them achieve a better and more quality life. <br />
<br />
but it's Duke and so it costs some money, like several thousand. and it's not that i can't do or wouldn't be able to. it's just hard to look at myself and say "brianna, you have the same resources and intelligence as a lot of other people and you have the resiliency of about 100 of them combined, you can do this"<br />
<br />
i've always been a quitter. and my life as a stay at home mom enabled that quite a bit. if i didn't want to do something or it was hard or difficult, i just didn't. i think that's why i have such a complicated relationship with how i feel about staying at home. do i think it's valuable, especially in the first couple years of life for the child? yes absolutely. do i think it allows a woman to wither, especially if she is inclined that way anyway, yes absolutely. (PSA PSA this is not all stay at home moms just me personally)<br />
<br />
that's super hard to admit, so so so hard. and i've been working on my website and applying to this program to Duke and i feel paralyzed, frozen. what if people don't want to talk to me, what if they don't think i'm worthwhile? what if i screw up my taxes? <br />
<br />
and it's just all these logistical options. you don't realize how easy it is to allow someone else to define you until you try to define yourself. <br />
<br />
<br />
these are just all my deepest fears put out there. <br />
and this is just me rambling, a lot of you read this but almost no one ever comments. why would i think people would value my advice? <br />
deep deep deep fears. <br />
<br />
<br />Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-85978694103375569612017-09-14T15:49:00.000-04:002018-02-14T20:22:07.772-05:00if you are reading this,<br />
<br />
i am sorry that your life has started over, perhaps more times than you would care to admit. i mean that, i really do. i was not the first to grow up under the impressions or fantasy that my life would turn out similar to the disney princesses. "they all lived happily ever after" and on a similar note, i am not the first to see what's behind the curtain when that mirage falls apart...<br />
<br />
happily<br />
<br />
... until they got divorced<br />
... until she got cancer<br />
... until their kid is in trouble at school<br />
... until you declared bankruptcy<br />
... until he died<br />
... until she lost her job<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
there seems to be this apology dance that we get to do when our life doesn't go the way people expect...<br />
<br />
<br />
"yeah i know it's soon, but he's a great guy"<br />
"yeah he does have two kids from his first wife, but honestly they're angels!"<br />
<br />
<br />
and on the flip side of that, we all seem to have this innate chip that makes us confident we could be living everyone elses' life more effectively than they appear to be living it. we conjure up ideas and rules, expectations and limits.<br />
<br />
"i would never do long distance"<br />
"she's crazy, he's a decade younger than him"<br />
"i heard she's letting her kid drop out of college and move back home"<br />
<br />
it's an immunity thing right? we see these tricky or difficult circumstances and in a hope of inoculating ourselves against the difficulty of navigating it we place a boundary around it, a way to stay safe. but there is no safety net, no inoculation against pain.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
and there is no one more equipped to navigate your life than you. <br />
<br />
<br />
i almost drowned in opinions about my life after jim. and the crazy thing was, i had everything i needed to make the decisions within myself. if you haven't seen moana, you should watch it, i can't even discuss how empowering it was and how much better it was than frozen... but these lyrics get me everytime<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 17px;">You are your father's daughter</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 17px;">Stubbornness and pride</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 17px;">Mind what he says but remember</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 17px;">You may hear a voice inside</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 17px;">And if the voice starts to whisper</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 17px;">To follow the farthest star</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 17px;">Moana, that voice inside is</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 17px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 17px;">Who you are</span></i><br />
<i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 17px;"><br /></span></i>
<b>but listen, no one gets to define how many happy endings you get. that is your choice and your choice alone. </b><br />
<b>and no one gets to paint how those look but you.</b><br />
<br />
so please for the love of God, stop trying to protect yourself against other people's lives, mistakes, or joys and just live your life, and live it well, without apology. Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-89332879678877794142017-08-31T11:03:00.002-04:002017-08-31T11:03:21.276-04:00loving a widow<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
i remember swiping on bumble and one guy's profile said "please be over your ex" i kind of chuckled to myself and swiped left because Lord knows, i was never going to be over Jim. <br />
<br />
dating as a widow is tricky, adding in kids is trickier. there is no easy way to love a widow, to be with a widow, to play a role in her life. it takes a really special person to say, "i acknowledge that hole in your heart and i know my puzzle piece will never fit the same, but i still want to be included" it takes a really special person to say, "i know you are hurting, i know you miss him, i want to hold you"<br />
<br />
there are so many things that if you were to ask me i would confidently reply that i knew it all. when i was married to jim, i emphatically told alayne she was dating wrong because she kept dating guys her own age or a little younger. <br />
<br />
"young guys are players, i would never date a younger guy"<br />
<br />
fast forward a couple years and i have suddenly found myself with a guy quite a bit younger than me.<br />
<br />
before we started dating, i told christian, "listen, my life is set. i've got my kids and i've got my life and there will be sacrifices made in a relationship, but most of them won't come from me. you have to decide if that's what you want and if that's something you are ready for."<br />
<br />
after spending so many years in my early twenties and teenage years doing my best to conform to the guy's or society's standards of what was deemed lovable, it was quite a turn to stand there and say "this is my life, get on board or get out" <br />
<br />
i think a lot of single mom's can probably identify with that. the changes that having children brings to your relationship dynamic, but none more keenly know this than a widow. there is no every other weekend, no split custody or night's at dads, it is me, on all the time. <br />
<br />
it is hard to describe to outsiders what a relationship looks like post-marriage. hard to show what Christian means to our family, impossible to explain how we can be so close-knit or so sure in such a small amount of time. <br />
<br />
all i can tell you is, those people out there, who love widows and kids who have lost a parent. the men and women who are every day putting in work for a family that looks different and acts different than most, the men and women who say, i know you saw forever looking differently than what we have now, and i'm okay with that. those people need to be acknowledged, to be celebrated, and to be thanked, because they are truly gifts from God.<br />
<br />
and if you are widow, and you wonder how to accept love, be open to it, it's worth it. i know forever didn't go as you planned, i know life dealt you a shitty hand, but let those eyes you have now be forever changed to focus on what is important, on what is to be gained and on what matters. grief changes you forever, but it doesn't ruin you.Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6105923411283704066.post-44063496363234797452017-08-22T10:04:00.002-04:002017-08-22T10:04:29.292-04:00when life moves onletting go i think is probably the most difficult of life lessons. loose grip. we see our friends and their choices and we think "oh i wouldn't do that" or "i would do that differently" and part of this is just our mind, our mind preparing for different circumstances, for making sure we are ready and prepared for what comes our way, although that is never truly possible.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
i think ultimately at the end of the day we all live in a very broken and hurt world and we are all just trying to create our own happiness and find our own path. and you have to allow others to find that path.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
be supportive</div>
<div>
show up</div>
<div>
show compassion</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Briahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10001827063669436802noreply@blogger.com0