Dream Job

I've thought about this idea of a "dream job" for a good part of my 50 years on this earth.

When I was little, I was going to be a veterinarian, until I found out you had to cut up puppies and kitties to learn how to save them. Then, I wanted to be an marine biologist. Why not? I loved the water, swam all the time and I was in honors biology in middle school. Then we moved to Ohio, and I didn't think much farther than the end of my nose.

When it came to college, I chose a Finance/Marketing major. I took my first accounting class and thought, "F this!" and dropped the finance part. Marketing/Advertising, I liked it, but "dream job?"

Nah.

When I was younger, like 2 years old, I use to do voices.

One of those "conquered fear" times.

No, not HEAR voices… DO voices. My dad came home one night, and said to my mom, "I didn't know Ann had her little friends over?" To which mom replied, "Uh, she doesn't have any friends over." They opened my door to see me with a circle of stuffed animals, each of which I'd given a different voice.

Later I would imitate my hero's, Lilly Tomlin, Gilda Radner, Carol Burnett and that coupled with my sharp tongue, would often get me laughs or in trouble.

My delusions of grandeur had me dreaming of being one of them, on TV, making people laugh. Maybe I could just be a Joanne Whorley type, from Laugh In. I could be the chubby version of Gilda on SNL. I could craft a show and find my Tim Conway, Harvey Korman, Vicki Lawrence, Lyle Waggoner and have my own signature sign-off, like flipping my nose with my thumb while I tilt my head and stick out my tongue. I would daydream scenarios til I fell asleep.

In 6th grade I wrote a play, that my fellow students performed for me, "Charlie's Angels meets Starsky & Hutch." I cast it, I wrote it, I directed it and I acted it in it. I knew NOTHING…but I hadn't learned about "fear of failure" yet.

Sometime between our move to Ohio and adulthood, I learned all too well to fear failure. It has influenced many corners of my life. The only time I consistently keep it at bay is if I face it to help someone else. For some reason, I find it easier to face my fears if it's for someone else.

Every once in a while I tackle it for myself. I suck it up, look it straight in it's cold black eye, and beat it back and into success. I wish I could bottle that feeling. You really wonder, "why do I ever let fear keep me from  this moment?"

So, I sit here at 50, still trying to figure out…"what is my dream job." What is that job that everyday feels like it fits like a glove. You look forward to everyday, and while times might get trying now and again, you wouldn't trade it for the world.

This will be the 10th year for the LungRun in Chicago.
I've been top, individual fundraiser multiple years!

I've had moments of that feeling at many of my jobs. The one I have right now had been that way. I thrive in 'team' environments. I crave collaboration and problem-solving. I love when I can reward people for good work. I am over the moon when we pull together and bring a project across the finish line… and win it! If I was allowed to do that EVERY day… I could feel, and had felt, fulfilled.

Dream job? Oh, well, that is slightly different.

Take everything I mentioned up there, now add in a philanthropic level. If I could use what I know, and who I know, to raise awareness and funds for a deserving organization. If I could raise awareness of the underfunding of lung cancer research. If I could help homeless families find a way out of poverty and into a full life for them and their kids. If I could find a way to crowdsource a solution for funding all of those rare, nearly non-funded diseases like CureJM, that causes children daily pain, and possible death.

I've spent years meeting people, making friends, some of those friends going on to do amazing things. How can I leverage those friendships, my team building ability, experience and skills to help others? When I find that answer… I hope my fear is on vacation in a far away land, so I have the guts to go for it. Until then, I will do my level best to get back to those days of collaboration and fulfillment, while continuing my small, philanthropic endeavors, and hope that the opportunity presents itself, soon!

Caveat to my story. Many of you would say, "just go do it, Annie!" I would, trust me. I've painted myself into a corner from earlier bad choices and now I'm locked into a certain level of employment to keep afloat, and try to fix the mistake. But I am working toward a time when I can throw caution to the wind and attack this without fear, or concern. 

You Scared the Life Out of Me!

The last few months have been… interesting, to say the least.

Lots of changes at work, and some typical 10-year-old-kid angst, Alan traveling more for work and polar vortexes were all just the beginning of the eye-twitch inducing quarter.

About a month ago, I thought it was time to check in with all my appropriate doctors. Given all the stress and frustration coupled with turning 50, I thought it in my best interest to get all the particulars a seal of approval.

I had my physical all set, and then put it in my calendar exactly 1 week AFTER it actually was suppose to take place. Yep, brain burp, and yet another indicator of the need for examination. I rescheduled.

Next up, and not forgotten, my gyne visit. When you've gone through menopause, it's not as awful as it use to be. But I had had some pain in my lower left abdomen, so I thought it worth mentioning.

My visit went pretty text book, with him identifying my fibroid I've been carrying around for 18 years or more. But, he scheduled an ultrasound, he wanted to be safe. How could I argue? With women in my family having lost their battles with breast, ovarian and lung cancer, I'd take any opportunity to rule out any chance of possible deadly disease.

I showed up a week later and endured a relatively benign procedure. It only took about 10 minutes in total, and then I dressed to go meet with my doctor.

I had a feeling things weren't going the way I was hoping, when I saw his face. My normally affable physician actually had worry lines. His slow-paced demeanor was replaced with an anxious disposition. While my uterus lining was thinning, and there appeared to be more fibroids, the really disconcerting finding was fluid in my abdomen.

Don't bother googling it, there's nothing good about having fluid in your abdomen. The main concern of my doc's was that it might be ovarian cancer, since they couldn't see my ovaries during the examination. He was going to draw some blood for testing, and send an order over to radiology for an MRI on my abdomen.

He shared that his 80 year old mother had just been recently diagnosed for ovarian, and the only indicator had been this fluid on the abdomen.

Yeah, I remained calm, but on the inside it felt like insult being added to injury.

I couldn't wrap my head around it. Was this one of those moments that you're tested to find the lesson in all of it? My normally positive outlook, shot straight to the negative. It seemed that the cosmos was just piling on. Would I be able to find the pony at that bottom of the box of manure?

I took control, and made my MRI appointment as soon as I could. The Saturday after my gyne visit, I had a 7AM appointment to get this completed and hoping for more answers.

I've decided that all my major tests should be done at 7AM at the hospital. I parked on the 2nd floor, right by the bridge to the hospital. There was only one other person in the waiting room. I was in on time, and done within an hour and half of entering the hospital.

On Monday, I heard from my doctor. Looked like we were all clear on ovarian between the MRI and blood work. Whew.

BUT, they did still identify fluid on the abdomen, and his worry was that it might be associated with my melanoma. Could I have had 5 minutes of relief, please? No? Ok, we'll move on to what I do next to figure out what the hell is going on.

Test the fluid on my abdomen, via the interventional radiology. where they use ultrasound and a loooonnnnnngggg needle to draw fluid out of the abdomen and send it to testing.

Getting this appointment took a little longer than I liked, but after some "faxing orders" and "you need to call here" "not there" and more, I had it. My appointment was Monday, Feb. 17th, just after Valentine's Day.

Enter, snowstorm and miserable weather. Appointment is moved to Tuesday, February 18th. It's not been 12 days since the original, simple appointment.

It was a little busier in this department and my aunt went with me to keep me company, and probably because she was worried too. I looked around the waiting room, and wondered what the stories were with all these families. The elderly couple in the corner, who was being examined today? Was it him, did he have cancer? He had a bald head. The family of four, were they waiting on someone already back in the testing area? How were the kids doing? Shouldn't they be in school?

Your mind likes to think of things outside your world, so you don't focus on the negative you're thinking about when you do concentrate on you.

I walked back to the prep area. This was the test that would tell me exactly what the hell was going on, I just wanted it done, and the fluid out to the test facility. I changed, I joked with the staff, asked for a tummy tuck while they were sucking stuff out, etc. etc. All the usual deflection one of my personality would probably default to, but it seemed appreciated.

Through the prep curtains, I could hear some of the stories around me. The older man I had seen, was having a port put in. He did have cancer. From what it sounded like, he'd been battling it for a couple of years. There was a man in another area that I could hear nod off and snore til it sounded like he was drowning. Then his wife would say something, and he'd wake up to answer her.

Then it was my turn to be expertly wheeled out by Kelsey, my nurse. She navigated me left and right and between equipment to a little alcove room with an ultrasound machine and a tray of instruments. Our young lad who was still in training to earn his DR. came in and explained the procedure.

Numbing agent… burns a little going in… then needle for extraction…all while being observed on the ultrasound.

I joked with him about how I never should have googled my symptoms, and he commented on how sometimes ignorance is bliss. I agreed, but offered that knowledge was power, and I was hoping that the test results from the fluid would give us some answers and a course of action. He agreed, as he snaked the needle to it's intended dark spot in my stomach area.

He got to it in one try. I could see it all on the ultrasound. He pulled back on the plunger to extract the liquid…. nothing. He tried again. Again, nothing.

This is where I think the young doctors need some improv coaching. His face went straight to concern, he was going to get his attending, maybe the liquid was too viscous …talk talk talk. Poor kid.

Kelsey, my nurse, switched out with another nurse who had some awesome tattoo's. He was equal to the nursing task. Northwestern has great nurses, I learned that when mom was in Pallative Care there before she died. They rock.

So, the attending came in with the kid. He felt there simply wasn't enough fluid to extract anything, and his student had been right on the money. When he reviewed my MRI, he saw the fluid, but truly felt it was fluid that would resolve itself. He wasn't concerned and suggested a get a follow up ultrasound at my doctor's office in 2 weeks. If it hadn't resolved then we'd try something else.

ok?

My poor student dr. was so upset, more than me! I touched his arm, "what's wrong, I'm ok with this." He responded, "But knowledge is power, right? And you wanted answers and a plan of action. I can't do that for you. I'm sorry."

After three weeks of this path, I found myself comforting him. And I meant it. It was the first time in three weeks that I said, "I'll be ok, don't worry," and I meant it.

My follow-up is scheduled. Until then, I'll stay positive.

But, what came out of all of this, so far, is that I had really started to let others control my life and self-worth. I don't know when it happened, but this scare brought with it a clarity.

If I am to best care for myself, my family, my co-workers, I needed to take back the control I gave up. I needed to prioritize and rid myself of the things I can't change. I can't leave a legacy to my son that I'm a doormat or that I'm a passive participant in life.

Just that switch in mental attitude has brought to the forefront more opportunities for me. Karma has done it's bit to handle those things I can not. Hopefully, if I continue to practice what I preach to others, I can take back the control I lost, move into a more healthy future and learn when to say "enough" when the stress starts to build.

Friend's List By The Numbers

I enjoy Facebook.

I post and read a lot on Facebook.

I also participate on LinkedIn, Twitter and other social networks.

I've been lucky to have reconnected with friends as far back as kindergarten, while also enjoying new connections as recent as my latest coworkers.

But when I saw my "friend's list" on Facebook has reached 1,243 (even more at the time of this blog), I couldn't imagine that all of these people would be true "friends." I even know of a few people that are easier to just keep in my list than to unfriend them, and deal with the fallout.

So, over the last week or so, I took an in-depth look at my friend's list. Here's where I netted out:

So, when you evaluate any list like this, you have to develop a criteria. Some of mine are pretty obvious, like "Family." For me, this was anyone who is a blood relative or married into my family tree. Currently, I have 65 members on Facebook that represent "family."

Cool!

Next, I identified my "Dearest Friends." These are the people who I've been through the fire with, who I've considered "family" on some level, who I would go to bat for and who would do the same for me. I was flabbergasted to find I had 52 in this category. How lucky I am to have so many souls out there to whom I feel so closely connected. My mom had told me once that if I could count 5 people in this category, I should count myself lucky… well, Mom, I'm 10-fold lucky.

The next criteria for me was "Close Friends." These are the people in my life that I can have a heart-to-heart, share secrets, count on to come to reciprocal rescues…but we don't have the deep-tissue connection of "Dearests." These friends I respect, love and love to hang out with…and they have the potential to become "Dearest." This number was humbling as well. I have 604 people I consider "close friends." I recounted several times. That couldn't be?

But when you consider the years I've been on the earth, the states I've lived in (actual states, not "of mind"), grade school, middle school, high school and college, jobs past & present, improv, theater, philanthropic endeavors, online groups that became real life friends, friends of friends who became close friends… etc. etc., it doesn't seem that odd. Even dividing 604 by my 50 years, it's 12 people a year or one new close friend a month. Yes, I understand I probably wasn't a friend-making-machine from ages 0-3 or 4, but I am still close friends with some I met in kindergarten.

I have included the five friends/family I've lost since FB began, and their pages are still up and running.

When you combine all of those categories, 58% of my friends list has close ties to me. That is a statistic that is far higher than I would have expected. I thought that perhaps, early on, I got caught up in the "accept friend" frenzy, and OVER-friended. I have friends who are in the entertainment industry who have had to go to sponsored pages, because their "friends" list was in the 10s of thousands, and they really just wanted to have their real friends on their personal profile. I'm no where near that tally, but this does put in perspective that for the most part, almost 60%, I know and love the people in my friends list.

If I were to add in "More Than Acquaintances," which is people I know, that I could have an elevator conversation with, or I may know they have two kids in middle school, or they most likely are a work associate that I have connected with, or a friend-of-a-friend that I like, but haven't had the opportunity to get to know well. Also a part of that criteria was, "am I happy to see these folks when I run into them," "they make me laugh," "I enjoy their company." In this category, if they make me happy, laugh or  I just plain enjoy them, they are included as a "MTA."

With that inclusion, then 89% of my list is someone I'm connected to, truly, in some way. That leaves 11% being "Acquaintances/Don't Know Well" and "Organization Pages."

But let's be clear, this is an evaluation of a "friends list" on a social platform built for sharing. I first joined Facebook to do a screen grab for a new business pitch, with no intention of keeping the membership. At that time, MySpace was the social sharing platform. Things have changed, and now there's G+, Pinterest, Instagram, Twitter, LinkedIn or even Good Reads or Spotify to some extent...and whatever the is next sharing craze.

All in all, I feel extremely blessed and fortunate, after having done this review. I hope that I give as much as I get from these people (except maybe the 3 in my too much trouble to de-friend list). If I never made another NEW friend for the rest of my life, and spent my time nurturing the ones that exist, I'm sure it would be a full, loved existence. But the chances of me not making new friends… well, let's just say, slim to none.

Johnson Family Christmas Poem 2013

It’s been quite a year, 
or two since we spoke, 
but I’m sure I can manage 
to share a good joke.

Alan is working
at a new cool place.
He’s designing classes 
and teaching each case.

It’s adding new skills 
that he’s wanted to hone,
and his office is 
still right out of our home.

For Alex’s Spring break, 
we headed out west. 
To LA and we visited 

Tom & Kel in their nest.

The space shuttle was 
cool to see while there.

And Santa Monica pier 
with it’s year-round fair.

Alex played soccer 
with two of his mates.

Kyle and Jonathan 
made the season great.

Summer was spent 
at the Boys & Girls Club.

Lots of running and playing 
with new elbows to rub.

We went to some fairs 
and got sick on some rides.

It really was fun 
and nobody died.

The boy turned 10 
in the month of September,

And had a birthday party 
that all will remember.

He loves his Xbox. 
He’d spend most of his day

Playing games called Halo, 

Skyrim, and GTA.

They influenced his costume 
as you can see.

I guess he’s exploring 
being “all he can be.”

As for me, it was 
a real milestone year.

I turned the big 5-0 
with a lot of my peers.

I embraced it and smiled, 
it wasn’t so bad.

Alan bought me a tiara, 
it’s the first that I’d had.

While my new hip is 
working out just swell,

My knees have been achy, 
boy, getting old is hell

We went apple picking 
and all had a ball.

Check out this picture, 
isn’t Alex quite tall?

I was top fundraiser again,  
for my lung cancer cause.

All those people we’ve lost 
give one reason to pause.

To say we feel blessed, 
could be thought of as trite

Our life has been full and 
our “future looks bright”

We’re a little more creaky 
in our joints when we move,

But with the right music, 
we still find our groove.

But what we know is true 
and so abundantly clear,

With our friends and our family 
we can enjoy 
life with no fear.

We may not say it 
very often enough,

But we love you, 
miss you and all of that stuff.

So as this year closes 
our thoughts are a mix,

How do we to better, 
and get in our “fix.”

So you may get a call, or an email or two,

To show our gratitude for your friendship...and you!

All our love,

Annie, Alan, Alex & Tex

If I Won the Lottery

Yes, I play the lottery. It's fun. It's the "what if" fascination. It's the "imagination run rampant" with ways to spend it. It's opening the door to the possibility of something life changing.

Some believe it's a waste of money, and to be honest, so far I could agree with that assessment. Some who play, play everyday, with the hope that this will be the "answer" to their financial woes. They are the same ones who think there's a magic money bullet out there, and they'll catch it.

All that being said, I have always known what I would do if I won.

First, the usual stuff, paying off debts, giving gifts to family, throwing a big party. But when all is said and done, I have much bigger plans.

I've always wanted to set up a philanthropy to help homeless families. The idea requires buy-in from the city, civic leaders, volunteers, local businesses and schools. But I think it has merit.

Here's the basic idea:

There's a lot of research to be done up front, since this would be the pilot project and it's critical that it is set up for success. But I just want to top-line it for your here, maybe get some feedback. Maybe, get some interest.

I would want to find a city-owned, empty building. It can't be too run down, but just a place that isn't in use, but isn't a tear-down. In fact, it doesn't even have to be city-owned, it could be owned by a philanthropic property manager, who donates the building.

Then we'd have to convert the building. I'd want to have at least 10 units with 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms. They need to be clean, useful, comfortable for a family from 3-8 to be able to live in it. Furniture would be donated, local good samaritan furniture stores. The renovation would have to be donated, or in conjunction with Habitat for Humanity.

All of this relies on good relationships within the community, a rallying of that community and volunteerism.

But building out the building has more to be done. On the first floor, there needs to be a daycare set up. There also needs to be a computer room/training room. And I would encourage a dining room for breakfast & lunch, at the very least.

The purpose of the building and these facilities, is to allow homeless parents the opportunity to know 1) they have a roof over their head; 2) their little ones have a sanctioned, free day care in the building; 3) 2 of their 3 meals are available to them; 4) they are going to get some free training through various businesses in the area volunteering to come in and train them; 5) there will be money management, household living classes to prepare them to be successful outside the walls.

In order to get people back to work, you have to give them an address, give them a meal and give them the confidence that they can do it.

Families can fill out an application to participate in the program. There will be a robust background check and evaluation. The building is a dry building, so no alcohol within the walls of the building. Visitors must sign in and hand over some form of ID. Residents will have a badge. Given the fact that it's 10 units with a max capacity of 8... we'd never have more than 80 residents at a time.

Each family would be given 6 months to attend training, look for work and live stress free. If they secure a job or prove that they have been trying, they can get extensions. In fact, if you do secure a job, we will automatically extend the project for 6 months so that there's time to bank the money and build up some funds for securing an apt for the family. We may even have resources by that time to help them transition.

Our hope would be to move these families from homeless and out of work, to working, thriving, productive, happy families... who stay connected with the program and pay it forward.

Pie in the sky, I know... but I also know the hearts of most people out there... so if I hit the lottery jackpot... this is the vision I would seek to fulfill.

If you ever want to know more about it, I've got a lot more to share, just email me!

You Don't Always Know...

You don't always know a person's life story. Sometimes the fun is filling in the blanks using your own imagination. But when you truly get to know the person, you figure out just how many layers there are to that story, and what you've built in your mind may be so far off as to be embarrassing.

I was just confronted by a perception of me, that I feel is just a lack of understanding of my bigger story. Many think they know me, but I have to admit, only a few really do. I feel like this blog has allowed me to share more of my thoughts and feelings than I would if I met you face to face. As much as I appear to be someone who wears her heart on her sleeve, over-shares on occasion and has some serious opinions, there's a lot more to me than most of you realize.

I know there are some out there who look at my LinkedIn profile and think, "wow, 25 years in the industry, and she's not really moved up very far. I know her. She's smart, funny... why no upward mobility?"

Let me see if I can explain.

The Chiggers:
Mama's In Remission Tour

During my 20s and 30s, I worked as a desktop designer/presentation maven for a couple of ad agencies, was production manager of a magazine and helped run an office for a friend who was a director's rep. While I did all of that, and learned SO much, I was also performing. I was an active member of Chicago's IO (improvOlympic at the time), taking classes at Second City and performing/working at the Annoyance Theater. That was where my passion resided, in the comedy industry in Chicago. I was good, but not great. I have friends that are great, and are very successful at it today, but I stayed in Chicago and got married at 32 years old to my best-est friend, Alan.

Shortly after getting married, and after trying unsuccessfully to have a child, we embarked on the journey of in vitro fertilization. Luckily, I was full time with an agency that had GREAT benefits, and we gave it a shot, without much luck.

Then, my mom got sick.

I spent a lot of my time going between Virginia and Chicago, trying to care for her while trying to keep my job going. You see, my mom and I were best friends as well as mother/daughter. She was my compass, the person who was the most honest with me, and called me on my shit. She had my back at every turn in my life, and now she was dying.

I sucked it up. I told myself there would be plenty of time for crying when she was gone. For now, I was there for her. I rubbed her back. I fed her meds. I held her hand when she had tests. And when she died, for a while, I was ok. Then, I fell apart.

For about a year after my mom died, my emotions ran a roller coaster. The only thing I knew for sure was I wanted to be a mom. I wanted to guild and love someone the way I had been loved. Alan agreed, and we started down the adoption path.

It occupied my mind. It helped me get through each day. It brought some joy back. And, after a year, Alex entered our life... just 4 days old... and we were a family.

Family.

That's what was the priority... family.

I worked, and I worked HARD. I worked long hours, but I did it
so I could help provide for my family. I worked with wonderful people who had been along for the ride. They understood.

My internal struggle was "level-up and commit to moving up a ladder" or "keep doing a great job, hone your skills in this realm and be happy where you are with more time for family"... I picked the latter.

Alex's Kindergarten Graduation

Now, Alex is 10 and I'm 50... the era of corporate ladder climbing for me, was spent exploring the entertainment side of my soul... caring for family that needed me... creating a family to move forward with... and now, when people look at me and think... "wow, why is she settling for where she is" I have to say, "because of the choices I made along the way, and I wouldn't change a thing."

Every choice I made got me to where I am today, and while it's not what I ever envisioned for myself 20 years ago, it's where I'm suppose to be. I wouldn't be married to Alan. I wouldn't have Alex. I wouldn't have had that time with my mom. I wouldn't be able to be there for my friends and family who need me, if I hadn't gone through what I've gone through... and made the choices I made.

Do I sometimes wish I was the EVP, Something Important? Sure! Do I feel diminished as a person for not having reached that? No. Do I feel judged by others sometimes because I'm not there? Yes.  But what I'd ask is, talk to me. I'm more than a skill set. I'm more than a desk jockey. I am the sum of my experiences, many of which you know nothing about yet.

I have jumped to conclusions about people. I have opened my mouth sometimes before getting to know someone. But, I hope I've learned...and continue to learn... "don't judge a book by it's cover, there are a lot of chapters that have yet to be read."

When Life Gives You Lemons...

When life gives you lemons, zest it, peel it, squeeze it and suck on it. Seriously!

A few weeks ago came with some interesting experiences that tested my belief in myself...again. 

I thought you just had to be a good person, as honest as humanly possible, care for others as you do yourself...and the world will love you back.

For the most part, I have found that to be true.

Unfortunately, there are some who do not share that philosophy. And while on the surface it may seem they're being petty or childish, with some introspection, I think it's more that they're scared. Maybe something has happened to them in their lives that makes them think they have to defend themselves before anyone ever attacks. Maybe they've been screwed over in the past, and instead of looking for the good, they're looking to get screwed again.

I've had those moments in my life, and how I treated others...let's say, were not my proudest moments.

But we can learn from them, we can look inside and instead of expecting the worst, we can create the best. 

And if you're on the receiving end of this behavior, you can take a moment away from feeling sorry for yourself and actually think about why that person acts that way. Maybe you're the one they attack because they don't know how to deal with someone who isn't looking to hurt them? Maybe they lash out at you because your behavior is something so foreign to them, it scares them? I don't know.

What I do know is that I was internalizing this, and all I had to show for it was a twitch in my eye, being sick to my stomach and then uncharacteristically "losing it" on two different occasions. All because I was at a loss. Every effort to figure it out was thwarted. Others around me enduring the wrath that was meant for me. I had guilt, doubt and self-recrimination. And still, I had no idea what I had done.

So I stepped back and I turned my evaluative eye on the situation. I took a long, hard look at myself. Yes, there are things I may have done, but never with any ill intent or malice, perhaps just an honest mistake. Yes, I'm not perfect. I'd hardly be any fun to be around if I was. No, I never set out to hurt or malign anyone. 

I also found, in the end, I was beating myself up for something that was yet to be defined. I have come so far, but I still fall back into those self-doubt and self-loathing places that I thought were locked away. And I was the one allowing it to happen. I'm the one in control of how it affects me. The minute you begin to doubt, you've given up your power.

It only matters what you believe. 
It only matters what you know. 
And if you're honest with yourself, 
and take the blame when it's deserved, 
and push away the falsities, 
you find that most of the time 
you're a really wonderful person. 
You realize there are a lot of people 
out there that know you, 
maybe better than you know yourself, 
and they love you. 
And if THEY love you, you have to love yourself. 

If you can do that, no matter what anyone says about you, it won't matter. And if someone is out there talking about you, love them more...give them more... show them the compassion and understanding you were denied. Two wrongs do not make it right. 

Up until this moment, typing this in a stream of consciousness, I was not very forgiving. I was not considering the motivation behind the attack. I had gone straight to a defensive posture, aligning my mental army men with bayonets, ready to take on a frontal lobe attack.

Now? Now a lot of the anger is gone. I'm breathing a little deeper, more even. My eyelids are getting heavy, and I think I may actually sleep tonight. I'm looking forward to tomorrow with my lil guy and hubby, maybe coffee with a friend and maybe some time with others. I will rest. I will rejuvenate and I will forgive, myself and others.