Summertime Sadness

I've left this window open for days... Possibly a week. I want to write, but I feel stuck. What's important? What is a key issue? What is something people want to read? Then I realized, it doesn't matter whether people are interested in what I have to say or not; writing is therapeutic for me and a way to confront the things I'm unable to say out loud.

Summer is hard for me. Everyone is always saying, "You're so lucky to have the summer off!" or "I'm so jealous!" and I understand where you're coming from... If I had kids to be off with, a consistent part-time summer gig or anything that was somewhat similar to a routine, I would be lucky and you would have every right to be jealous. Instead, I go through every range of emotion possible over two months. I go from being excruciatingly happy to be outside in the sun all day with the dog, working on my tan and/or garden/front yard (that never ends) to feelings of legitimate despair and worthlessness. I have so many plans for this life and I absolutely know and believe with my whole heart that I am meant for more. I have always always always felt this way and to work on this, I create lists; I create many, many to do lists. I have bucket lists, daily lists, Arbonne lists, cleaning lists, grocery lists, long term lists... and I find much satisfaction in crossing things off. However, when I'm not working and without a consistent schedule to keep me busy, I am the least motivated person in the world. I manifest the "do it tomorrow" attitude and it never comes. I usually put on weight, I play too many video games, I eat out of boredom, I cry wayyyy more than I usually do and I begin to feel like I'm simply not enough. And because I do all these things and let myself feel this way, I then get angry at myself for letting my life fall apart and not working towards the goals I have set out for myself. Vicious cycle.

I didn't get to come into summer full of joy either. As per my past few posts, I've had my fair share of dealing with some completely awful people this year: men who have disappeared (ghosting, as it's called because it happens so frequently that there's actually a TERM for it), men who have used me, men who taken advantage of me, men who have treated me as though I am nothing but gorgeous tits and a body to grind up to, cuddle up to, lay next to. 

Don't get me wrong, I've had my fair share of amazing times this summer. I am blessed to have a cottage I can visit anytime and see the parentals, my brother and his wifey live in town and just had a third and gorgeous little baby girl and I got to go to a music festival in Montreal with two of my favourite people (as seen by the vomitting of photos on Instagram and Facebook). I guess I'm simply saying that I love having time off, I love having a (much needed) break, but that I'm horrible at motivating myself to do everything that needs to be/should be getting done and that often, at times, I feel like a lonely, worthless, bag of shit.

So, if I've seen you and my hug lingered a little longer than usual, it's because I really needed it and because I love you and I'm happy you're in my life.

Make sure to give an extra squeeze the next time we hug.

Much love and sunshine,
Megs

When I Give Up

I deleted Tinder today and sent messages to all the people I'd been going on dates with or talking to end things. I finally hit the point of exasperation care of how much work dating is. Trying to keep up and remember who said what or what so and so looks like and being busy every single day is draining. Additionally, when you do find someone you quasi-connect with, they simply end up disappointing you by not showing up, never responding or not having their shit together. The latter is even more exhausting, so I'm giving up on seeking out love. I refuse to be so dramatic as to say I'm giving up on it, as I know it's everywhere and all around me all the time, but in terms of dating someone to find love, I'm saying fuck it. 

For now. 
Love can find me when it's ready.

M

When You Give Me Up

You give up constant laughter over silly things, serious things, inappropriate things and you really lose out on bathroom humour.

You give up being able to share the best and the worst of yourself without judgement.

You give up a support system; someone who will be there for you no matter what, someone who will often put you first, someone who wants to take care of you.

You give up an amazing bedroom partner; someone who wants to share themselves with you as often as humanly possible.

You give up amazing conversation opportunities; from the mundane to the serious to the abstract, you'll miss out on those enlightening, hilarious, argumentative, passionate, un/comfortable moments.

You give up getting to know some of the most amazing people on the planet; this group of friends of mine is incomparable - they love, laugh, have fun, and they help me get over lying and cowardly douche bags.

You give up inclusion into one of the best families in the world; a family that will accept you simply because I love you and one that would give you anything you need - be it support, love, a place to stay, a hot tub session, or a beer. 

You give up your cuddle buddy, your best friend, your equal.

But most importantly, you give up compassion and love like you'll never know again. These two things I give freely, without restraint, without remorse, and often without thinking (which can be both an amazing trait and a terrible flaw).

When you give me up, you give up on the love of a lifetime, one that will not and cannot be replaced, and one that you may never even know that you've lost.

But now you know.

Love,
Meaghan

PS - Fuck you.

Me Vs. Me

Ever since I could write sentences, I've written in diaries. As I grew older, I seemed to outgrow writing (and reading) and replaced it with less meaningful things. I'm here right now because I keep saying I'll get back to writing and I keep putting it off and because I really need to. I'm sick of hearing myself talk and I'm tired of my mind not shutting off and I figured writing some of it down might help put my mind at ease.

Someone I've been seeing told me that I need to "have more self confidence" because I "have a lot to offer". This mantra has become self-talk lately because I know that I do, and yet I don't always believe it. It is a constant battle to know my self-worth, to put myself first and to follow my heart all at the same time. I acknowledge the things I have been through, the way I have been treated and yet I still have expectations that people I don't even know are out to get me or hurt me. I'm having a hard time leaving my past hurts there and am projecting them onto the new person in my life that I care for.  He had to cancel plans extremely last minute Thursday and apologized and shared my disappointment. Instead of letting it go, I sent a message the next morning saying I was "kinda pissed off" and that I wanted to talk it out as soon as we could. And... nothing. I have heard nothing. I regret and don't regret saying it as those were my feelings at the time, but I'm not pissed off with anyone except myself. I hate that I allow myself to feel this way. Now, I'm in limbo, just waiting... Will he text? Won't he? Did I scare him off with my claim of anger? Does he care? Did he change his mind about me overnight?

If I didn't have the amazing group of friends that I do, I think would have talked myself into madness by now with all the what ifs, whys and worries. I'm not crazy or needy; I'm simply used to being hurt and that's what I've come to expect. I'm still learning to trust that someone wouldn't intentionally do that to me.

It's SO hard to not say something right now.  
I just have to wait.
Let the universe do what it's going to do. 

Love,
Meaghan
PS - I'll probably end up saying something.

Photos

Just some photos from the year (up until June) that I love <3.  Will share more soon! 

Love,

Meaghan

Cheers to Caysee

How to Say Good-bye to Your Best Friend

Caysee had been sick for awhile now, but other then the inability to not pee all the time (yay, doggie diapers), she still acted like herself: happy and in love with life, (especially when the people she loved the most were around her).  Last week, she took a turn for the worst.  When I got home from work and went to pet her, she winced and ran away, as though she were bad.  When I tried again, and she looked at me with fear, I knew the end was imminent.  I needed my mom.  She wasn't home when I called, but my dad was.  As I told him I might be seeing him soon, I started to cry and he tried to comfort me by empathizing with me as we'd put our family dog down Christmas Eve 2012.  When I didn't stop, he simply said "Just remember we love you" and at that point I had to hang up the phone.  I know, without a doubt, that my father loves me, but he is not the type to say it.  As soon as I hung up, I collapsed on the kitchen floor, sobbing.

I kept hoping that I was wrong, that it was just a bad night, but it didn't get better.  When she didn't even want to sleep with me that night, I knew it was time.  When Caysee first got sick, way back in March of 2013, with a bladder infection, she went on anti-biotics, pain killers and medication to strengthen her bladder wall to help with incontinence.  From March until November, Caysee woke me up every two hours to go pee.  (Ready for babies, much?)  My vet was two hours away and would only prescribe two weeks worth of anti-biotics, so either I was going that way or my mom was coming to me.  It didn't clear up, so I went to see a vet in town.  He confirmed it was not a bladder infection and that he believed it to be a tumour in Caysee's bladder wall.  I could get an ultrasound to make sure, but it would be in-operable, and the chemo medication would contradict the current pain-killers.  At that point, I decided to take Caysee off of all medication and the instant she began to suffer, I would put her down.  Last Thursday, I called my vet from out of town and booked an appointment for Saturday morning to do just that.  Caysee was now taking extra strength Advil (in doggie-size bites) and she let me come near her.  My brother came over to say good-bye to her and she was beside herself, she was so happy to see him.  She didn't leave his side the entire time he was there.  When I saw how she was acting, I started to second-guess myself.  Was it really time?  Am I pushing this?  Should she have more time?  As I cried, my brother reassured me that it WAS time and that I was making the best decision.

As she saw me packing our stuff Friday, she was so excited because she knew we were going to the cottage.  I made sure as I packed, to throw out her bed, gather most of her things and hide them so that when I got home, I wouldn't see them.  Caysee loved the car ride, sticking her head out the window at each stop and she'd leave it out there until we got up past 48 km/h.  At the cottage, she was ecstatic.  She got to hang out with my parents, be outside in the fresh air and we took one last walk along the beach during the sunset.  I had a super hard time going to bed because I didn't want the night to end.  I knew what the morning would bring and I wanted every last second with her.  Her hips were starting to get the best of her at this point, and I had to pick her up to put her on my bed to sleep that night.  She woke me up at 5am because she couldn't get down by herself to go scratch my door to go outside.  We spent some more time in the backyard and my dad was up to go golfing, so he was able to love her and say good-bye.  My mom held it together (somehow) as she said good-bye and I loaded Cays into the car to go get my mom's best friend, who was coming with me to the vet's.  When it was time to go in, Cays was all of a sudden very calm.  For those of us who knew Caysee, there has never been an instance where she didn't bark at a stranger or try to snap at another dog.  She simply stood at my side.  As the vet looked over and said, "wow, she's lost a lot of weight", the rest of the self-doubt I'd had faded.  We took her in, I picked her up and put her on the counter and laid her down.  Care of her previous aggression, the vet decided to use her back leg, to which I am so thankful because I was able to hold my baby in my arms as she left this world, quickly and peacefully, and showered with kisses and "good girls" and "I love yous".  As I stood alone in the room with her, I started to stress out.  How do you LEAVE?  How do you just GO and leave her laying there?  All of a sudden, the words came out of my mouth, "Say hi to BooBoo for me" (our family dog) and I kissed her about 17 more times and left.  Realizing she was with Rylee made it okay to leave.  As we drove home, I felt a huge sense of relief.  I didn't have to doubt myself, I didn't worry that I'd made the wrong decision, she didn't have to suffer, she didn't have to get worse and we didn't have to WATCH her get worse. 

That was, without a doubt, the hardest thing I've ever had to do, not just for myself, but for someone else.  How do you decide the best time for your best friend to die?  The car, the cottage, my house, my backyard, my bed and my heart feel empty without her.  I keep waiting for her to scratch at the back door or come greet me when I get home from work. 

I have 13 years worth of habits to break. 


Baby Bear - I love you more than anything I've ever loved on this planet.  You were my CayCay, my Bebe, my Honey Bear and then some.  You were loving, sweet, cuddly and protective.  You have been through so much with me over the last 13 and a half years. I will never be able to replace you, my first puppy. THANK YOU.  One part of my heart belongs always and forever to you and I will miss you every day.  


Love always, always, always,
Mama

Absenteeism

I've totally been a blogger absentee.  I know this.  I never said I would come back full time, though I wish I had the commitment in me to do so.  Most of my life I've always wanted to be a writer.  I missed the University application deadline when I was younger, so when I should have been going to UW for English, I applied to a couple of colleges and picked random programs that I figured I would have some sort of interest in (who the hell ACTUALLY knows what they want to do with their life at 18??) and LUCKILY, fell into something I happen to adore.  And am kind of good at.  You need have no doubt when you leave your children in my care.  Not only do I have over a decade (ahhh!) of experience with children, but I also have common sense, compassion, empathy and genuine love for those itty bitty dudes.  But, I digress. 

All of my life, I've wanted to be an author and I still believe I have time to do so.  I know the hardest part will be starting my book. Not only will choosing a topic be impossible (rom-com, auto-biography, self-help, what?!) I've totally become one of those "I'll start/do it tomorrow" people.  I kind of detest that.  As I also love to read, something I read caught my eye and has since become a bit of a personal mantra: If it takes less than two minutes to do it, just do it.  So, whether it's taking stuff downstairs from the top of the stairs, to emptying garbage out of my car, to sending a quick email, text or even a call, I just do it now.  It makes life that much easier (and less cluttered).

Anyway, I just wanted to write and say "hey".  I know it's been awhile.  Miss you, dudes.  I will try my hardest to make more frequent visits.

Love muchly.
em