The funny thing about Mets is….

A few months ago I broke down and talked to my new doctor about my spouse’s melanoma.

He was diagnosed a month after the twins were born and given a poor prognosis. Fifty percent chance of survival at five years with treatment.

He had the original mole/tumor removed, and never went back.

Fast forward 2.5 years and I still have a lot of questions. He has more strange looking moles becoming more apparent.

My assumption is that it’s spread. I brought it up to the doctor, told him the timeline, and prognosis.

He was immediately concerned.

His first words we’re, “The funny thing about Mets is, they start off small and depending on where they are they can take a very long time to grow.”

I like this doctor… I think He should be a professor for how well explains medical stuff to me.

We discussed the locations and likelihood of growth in his lungs, internal organs and brain.

Even in the brain, there are many outcomes of growth of a metastasis.

So I watch and wait. I really don’t know what for. For illness I suppose, for unusual weight loss or behavior changes, or coordination issues.

I question his bleeding. He bleeds a lot in his sleep due to being a construction worker. Blood on the floor in the bathroom or toilet. I wonder an abnormal amount.

I’ve developed a back up plan of his behavior changes more than to be expected considering everything.

If he gets violent. Because that can happen… And we have kids.

I’ve tried to start looking at career options and due to being an almost 40 year old, and a stay at home parent, my chances of a normal career are slim.

I’m past being terrified, I’m just holding onto hope that maybe it’s a bad dream until the day comes that it’s just a terrible fact.

Cancer hides and so do some cancer sufferers.

And on a related note: check your skin once a month. Especially if you have a freckle or mole that is unusual. Don’t put off going to the doctor. Early detection and treatment increases survival by a lot.

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Beauty

There’s a constant flow of talk about looks.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder

Beauty is only skin deep

Too fat, too thin, too tall, too short

Is it media? Commercialism?

We’re all barraged daily in regards to beauty, its definition, its value and the consequences of not fitting that ideal.

Eating disorders, clothing hoarding, personal hygiene products, ointments galore, plastic surgery from face to genitals, and financial hardship all to chase an ideal.

But the concept of ideal beauty shifts with the wind, differs between cultures, and varies through the ages for men and women alike.

And 99 percent of us never make the cut.

How many relationships with good People are damaged on a daily basis from our skewed value upon the looks of people?

How many housewives are torn down daily by their husbands offhand remarks of how this woman (who looks nothing like her) is hot and all the rest are disgusting… how many little girls question themselves for It?

How many men beat themselves up because they’re never going to be the next Brad Pitt? And how many think that is what women want in a man?

Our view of beauty is ugly, how we treat ourselves and other who aren’t and will never be a “10/10” is ugly. Our value in the superficial aspects of humanity, the stuff that never really lasts is ugly.

Very few him and can make a living with their looks. Looks may help in the short term, but, it’s the beauty of the mind, the sheer will, hard work and integrity of people that gives us our community, and our ability to move forward.

Its the beauty of countless people sacrificing their time, their careers, their ideals to help others, to rear children, to give back to their communities which is beautiful.

It’s the creators and builders and dreamers, the counselors and hope givers that give a sense of belonging and richness, merging purpose and hope, and the thought of more in life which is beautiful.

It’s the mundane that we love about each other. The mundane stuff in our loved ones lives that due to the nature of intimacy, that is truly beautiful. How our children sleep or have tiny gestures that are their own, how our spouse hums while washing the dishes, or how a parent or grandparent spins a tale or leaves an item of care. Just in case.

Those things, are vulnerability and earnestness and compassion and empathy, they are representations of someone allowing you into the deepest most untouched parts of themselves. And each person is different.

And truly beautiful.

Looks come and go, but the person inside is there, the impact they have on us is there, and lasting. Even if their name is lost in the sands of time, their impact will always move forward.

That is beautiful.

And you.. you are beautiful ❤

The power of secrets

A couple of days ago I was watching a snippet of news and the anchor had brought up the current media storms revolving around Hollywood’s #metoo movement, and the several political leaders currently being examined by law enforcement and the media alike for sexual misconduct. 

This anchor, a lovely middle aged woman, well seasoned in the spotlight and journalism, always appropriately sober faced in her role remained in character for her speech. 

She talked about the power of secrets. 

Perps using financial influence, authority and power to do as they will to others, depending on fear of the receiver of their mongering, advances or assaults to keep quiet. 

Depending also on a biased social justice system that ensures that a victim must have somehow been responsible for the actions of the perpetrator. 

They depend on the shaming and intense scrutiny, that comes along with making serious allegations such as sexual assault. They depend on the guilt and shame ridden emotional load to continually overwhelm their targets, and keep quiet.

Because secrets have power.

But what they are learning now, what anyone who has been paying attention is learning now… how powerful secrets are, and what can happen if secrets are used against the very people who created them.

Wikileaks was shocking, but not surprising, we all know the government hides stuff. Good and bad. But it’s not tangible to most people. At most it’s a surreal thing that gets talked about on the news by serious elderly anchors after the evening national.

But, as the hashtagged #metoo movement barreled across our world, the dialogues, the derailment and even outright shaming and abuse that came of this raw, festering and open global wound became apparent.

Not just women. Men came forward as well, some welcomed with open arms and others told off for trying to take the spotlight. 

Sexual assault is terribly common, and knows no gender, age, race, or social bracket. 

It does however know power, shame and secrets. And the people that commit assault use every tool possible to ensure they can carry on. 

But those secrets are the Achilles heel. And we are certainly coming into and awakening where people are beginning to see that if they are keeping the secrets it is They, not the perps who actually have power. 

Scratching the abyss

This is going to be a heavy post about addiction and suicide. 

For those people struggling with addiction, I have no answers. All new studies point to having love and a fulfilling life to prevent addiction, but once in the throes of addiction that community becomes a foreign place to an addict. 

As an outsider loving people who have spiraled through the event horizon of addiction, it’s a terrifying experience to behold.

After watching a person spiral in and shoot out over and over, one’s mind can go to really dark places. 

Tonight was a dark night in my mind. The differences between addiction and suicide hit me tonight.

Suicide is swift and final. There may be things left undone, unsaid or unexplained, but loved ones can grieve, and in time move forward. 
Addiction always teeters on the edge of finality holding on to a tiny thread of hope. The death of an addict is usually a slow and painful process.

One grieves a loved one that slides down the rabbit hole out of sight, but gets a glimmer of hope when the addict reaches up and cries for help.

The grief is paused. 

Then the addict slides down again.

Over and over the cycle goes until the addict destroys themselves partially or entirely. But up until the end, there is hope.

I don’t know how an addict feels during the cycle, and I refuse to ask for justification. It’s needless. I can’t force sobriety, or a fulfilling life. None of us can, it’s entirely up to an addict to make that decision.

Addiction is a sad part of society, and hopefully we can help our communities find a solution to help all who struggle with it.

:D

Things I’ve learned about life (part unknown)
1. Get off the couch and do stuff. Hobbies, volunteering, travelling, LARPing. Just don’t be a couch potato.
2. Read. Voraciously about everything you can, even if it’s not your “thing”.
3. Listen to a variety of music, and be open to new tunes.
4. Push yourself hard
5. Take care of you, and love you for who you are right this moment, things change, bodies change, lives change.. it just takes time.
6. Make mistakes. Learn from them. Move on.
7. Listen. Listen to your friends, your world around you, your body and your heart. They tell the truth.
8. Success is a lie. Achievements are relative and failure is subjective.
9. Be you. The best you that you can muster. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
10. Facilitate others to also “be” and discover them as they are.
11. If you meet someone and get into a relationship, don’t stop doing the above. Period.

Love

Thank you..
Thank you for giving me the opprtunity to love you. Even but for a moment.
Thank you for showing me a new and unique way to love.
Thank you for loving me back, and thank you for letting me go.
Thank you

Have a happy

For the last couple of decades instead of a standard farewell, I generally tell people to, “Have a Happy!”. The first time I use it one someone in my life, they generally get slightly confused and chuckle, and ask, ” A Happy What?”

To which I reply, ” A Happy whatever it is that you do, that makes you Happy.”

There may be discussion about having A Happy, and if they get it, they understand that Having A Happy, could be a cup of tea, a well deserved rest, or a walk in the park video games etc. Whatever it is you do that gives you an inner smile, is A Happy.

I’ve come to realize over time that I hadn’t been giving myself the same advice, because I don’t give myself farewells. This means I’ve neglected my Happy, and in some cases unintentionally stopped being responsible for my Happy. I expected other people to share their Happy with me.

It’s fine to share your Happy with other people here and there, but another person’s Happy won’t sustain you the way that your own Happy will. And nobody is responsible for your Happy, just like you aren’t responsible for theirs. You can take a ride, or play with someone’s Happy all you want, or sometimes take other Happys on playdates with your Happy, but at the end of the day, It’s your Happy, take care of it, feed it and nurture it, and it will take care of you right back.

So I want to add to my greetings ie. “how are you/ what’s new?” to, “How’s Your Happy?” either it will hurt Happys or it will help Happys, but maybe it’s worth trying.

Have a Happy, and treat that Happy well