Unaccomplished

You know the times when you feel as though you haven’t accomplished anything in your life? The days when you sit in the chair in tears because you can’t come up with a single thing that you have completed that would be considered meaningful.
A couple weeks ago was the end of a long month of feelings like that. I was in a nearly constant state of depression because of it. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t come up with one meaningful thing that I had accomplished.
My amazing boyfriend did his best to help me through that, but like most people he eventually gave up on that and told me the truth; that I was being a big crybaby.
Which is true.
Think about it, each and every one of us has done something meaningful in our lives. Whether it’s good or bad, there has been something you have done for, or to, someone that helped them to remember you forever.
It might have been something as simple as holding the door open for someone, or giving them a hug when they were sad. Or, it could have been something big like publishing a best selling novel and being able to make a living.
Today, I just wanted to say to everyone reading this that you have done something in your life. It may not look big on paper, but it was big to someone, and that’s what matters.

“Wedding Bells?”

We’ve all done it. Or at least something similar to it. 

You log on to facebook and begin looking aimlessly around, hoping for something decent to strike your attention. Nothing really does. Perhaps a picture of a kitten or a long rant about soap or something equally strange, but nothing else. A picture of a young couple catches your attention and causes you to change your mind on getting off the internet and doing some work.

They’ve been together for quite some time now, You think. I wonder if they will be taking the next step any time soon?

The wondering is perfectly innocent. It’s a normal thing to ponder over. So, you look through the few comments to see if the answer is there.

It is. Someone already asked the question for you.

‘Aww! When are the two of you getting married?’ The random person says.

Of course, there is no response, but it makes you feel better as someone else was wondering the same thing.

The only thing is, the couple, though very happy together, don’t feel quite ready to add shiny rings to the relationship. That’s perfectly alright. It’s their choice. It’s better to know for sure on something like that after all.

But they keep getting asked the question.

Every time they see a relative;

“When are you two getting married?”

Every time they see a person from church;

“How are the two of you doing? Wedding bells?”

Even when they pass by family members;

“Is he gonna ask you to marry him yet?”

“Not yet.” They say in response to each one.

“Oh no! Is something wrong?” The immediate concern is quite extreme.

“No! Everything is great!” They rush to explain.

“Then…” The questioners just stand there and narrow their eyes ever so slightly. Just enough that someone might notice if they cared enough to look.

“We just aren’t ready yet. I’m only 20 and he’s 21. We’re really young.” The couple explains, trying to remain patient. However, they are screaming inside.

 

 

Because the question is getting old. And extremely pushy.

 

Oklahoma Snow

Those who have been following me for a while now know that I like the snow. In fact, I kind of love it. It’s an (dangerous) adventure to drive in, it’s cold instead of 110 degrees, it’s pretty, and occasionally it creates lazy days. 

Why would anyone choose summer over this thing known as winter?

I’m not entirely sure, but I try to understand.

There’s a snow storm traveling across the US right now, and the first wave of it just left Oklahoma. It’s around 15 degrees outside today and the wind chill is in the single didgets. We Oklahomans are not used to this. At all. Everyone is acting as though the world just came to an end. Though, I’m enjoying it. A lot.

It’s just a bit cold to play in the snow. 

I tried anyway by taking pictures of the dogs. I froze my butt off and I would so do it again if my hair wasn’t wet from my shower.

This was the result of my freezing adventure:

ImageImage

To Girls – A Breathing Problem

This is my message to all girls – myself included. It’s kind of a scolding to myself, but I’m sure others need to hear it as well.

 

 

BREATHE!

“No duh, Natalie…” You’re probably thinking. “I’d be dead if I wasn’t breathing.”

I mean breathe and calm down. Are you stressed out over your parents being idiots (ME!) or because your boyfriend isn’t texting? BREATHE.

As you probably guessed from the second part of that sentence, I forgot to breathe for a while. I don’t suggest that practice. It not only hurts yourself, but it hurts those around you. My boyfriend, as you can also guess by that part of the sentence, got the blunt end of it. But I think I caught my breathing problem on time.

Oh my I hope so…

The shortest way to tell that story is this; I’m turning 20. My friends are beginning to get engaged and they haven’t been dating nearly as long as us. I’ve been with him for 2 years. My home life has officially deteriorated into nothing. Grooming school was five days a week, from 8-5, and then I worked 5 days a week 5:30-10. Basically, I had no life for a few months. At all. 

I freaked out. Many many times. If he wasn’t texting, I’d worry a lot. If he wasn’t wanting to come see me that day as I hoped he would, I’d have a breakdown. We don’t live very close to each other. We live a good 45 minutes away from each other, and with gas prices and full time jobs it’s not as easy as ‘Come over and see me!’

And I know this.

I really, really need to start breathing and avoiding the clingy nature I grew accustomed to in the past few months of insane business.

BREATHE!

Breathe, self.

Breathe, other girls.

Because you know you’ve done this. Or started doing it. Or narrowly avoided doing it. Or are an amazing person I envy who didn’t get anywhere near it…

 

Help? Any supporting advice on how to change that insane clinging feeling I get? And how to help my marriage clock in my female mind to remember I’m not ready to get married yet?

Because I love this man way too much to hurt him that way. And it hurt me too. And I figured it out (hey, anxiety attacks apparently are good for something!) before it got too far. Neither of us really realized what happened until it hurt started to hurt.

Reading Escape

I’ve had the toughest month of my life. And even this week beat that month. Bad enough that I ended up going out to some random person’s field and crying to their horse. Granted, the horse likes no one else but me now, but it’s still a pathetic story. I’ve never prayed so much as in this past week. I’ve never eaten so little as this week. (A person my size shouldn’t have to look and see the section of my ribs protruding. There’s not individual ribs yet, just the entire thing as a whole. But it scared the crap out of me. Food… stay in my belly…) I haven’t felt as hopeless as this past week. 

I’ve taken up reading as my escape. Granted, I already read a lot. At least a pretty decent amount for a girl with a boyfriend, a job, and (sadly) Netflix. Now, however, I’ve finished two books this week. That’s a pretty big increase considering before it was about one every few months when I found time.

Reading is a pretty good escape, and the only thing that works right now. Other than sitting on the floor and trying to meditate by saying the word ‘hummus’ over and over and over again. That meditating attempt only works 1/10 times. There seriously can’t be anything else going on, or I think between hummuses.

See, part of my problem right now is that I don’t feel right. My anxiety is at a maximum level, and I do my best not to think. At all. And the only way I know how to do that is to read. Writing works once I get into it, but I haven’t even been able to get a sentence down before my brain disintegrates. After all, you have to think to write. At least that first sentence. Then it’s usually down hill from there.

I want to write. It’s just hard.

Do you all have any suggestions? On anything? At all? I realize these last few posts aren’t like my normal ones, but there’s seriously nothing else floating in my poor brain.

First Love

We all have heard those stories of a first love. The ones about the lover who got away but are never forgotten. We also have heard the happier stories. You know, the ones where they marry at 16 and surprisingly (at least we think) last until they die at a ripe old age of 96. Or something like that.

My question is, why do we have such things against a first love lasting forever? I understand it is different if they are 13 and falling in ‘love’ after a day. That’s a bit different. What I mean is when you know you’re in love. When you would do anything for that person. And I mean anything. You’d even die for them if the occasion arose. You’d even give up everything you owned in a heartbeat and live on the side of the road for them. It sounds drastic, but that’s the feeling deep down inside.

But, if you see someone in love for the first time, you automatically say it’s just a fluke. It’s guaranteed not to last. It’s bound disintegrate. Not necessarily because the couple isn’t right for each other, but because everyone says it’s not meant to be.

Why?

Because it’s the first love.

The question from this 19-year-old is this: What is so wrong with being with the one you love? The first one you love. Why do people get in the faces of the young adults and say it’s impossible because it’s only the first time they’ve been in love. They don’t deny it’s love. They just don’t believe in the fairy tale and I don’t understand why.

 

I’m sorry for my wishy washy post. One day I’ll get back to doing normal ones. But this has just been on my mind lately. Really, if a person is truly in love, why does everyone say it will never last.  Most of the stories of this I have heard, they lost their love because of what everyone said or because of having to relocate. But no one ever supported them and gave them the power to survive through it.

New Normal

A new normal, a new dream.

A new place to call my own.

With new fears and new sorrows,

Fear is all I see.

 

There are an unlimited amount of options,

But a plethora of consequences with each.

What to choose?

Where to run?

What new normal do I call my own?

I beg for for prayers,

I plead for encouragement.

I pray I make the right decision.

 

Sorry for the bad poemish thing. It just kinda happened. you may now continue on with your lives.