Couldn't Have Said It Better Myself

Sometimes I find someone else's words that sum up what I would have written in a really long blog post.  So, to spare you the really long blog post I'll just share that other person's words.

From Vanity Fair by William Makepeace Thackery

"The world is a looking-glass, and gives back to every man the reflection of his own face.  Frown at it, and it will in turn look sourly upon you; laugh at it and with it, and it is a jolly kind companion; and so let all young persons take their choice."

This week look at the world with the same goofy face you pull in a mirror when no one is looking.  Or if you're not as weird as me just a nice smile will do.

To My Seven Evil Exes

I asked for a binder with lined paper for my 8^th birthday.  And that's what I got.  Long story short, I'm a note hoarder. I can entertain myself with some paper, a pen, and my thoughts for hours. And then I keep these silly ramblings for later days.

Today turned out to be a “later day.” I found some hoarded ramblings that I can't resist sharing. Please enjoy.

TO MY SEVEN EVIL EXES.

Dear [Number One] (I have chosen to protect the names of these poor, poor boys),

I didn't even really like you. I'm just saying. (Whoa Kristen, ouch!)  I'll be honest, peer pressure was the culprit behind our relationship, you know, my friends were dating your friends and to hang out I needed a boyfriend. It's like a secret code or something. I regret cuddling with you and in retrospect, I would have rather had the Dairy Queen Blizzard my mom offered me if I could wait until I turned 16 to have my first kiss. I guess 15 isn't that bad. I just wish I would have actually really liked my first boyfriend and first kiss. I even remember thinking, “Eww, kissing's not even that cool,” while smooching you. Oh well.

-Kristen

Dear Number Two,

I legitimately liked you. A lot. And it scared me that someone might steal you. I learned a lot while dating you. I learned to not pass cars that aren't signalling, to not hold hands in front of a friend with an electrical fly swatter, that boys don't always drive, that boys might pretend to slap you instead of giving a hug goodbye, and that kissing in the backyard is a bad idea (Because your Dad might catch you... awkward). And I also learned how unattractive arrogance can be I've hung out with you since your mission and that ego is most definitely tamed I'm glad to say. You're a great guy and you have tons of potential. I'm proud to say I dated you! Go win your life.

-Kristen

Dear Number Three,

I broke your heart and I'm really sorry. I don't know why things had to work out the way they did. I saw a temper in you that made me uncomfortable, but you were the first boy to really treat me like a gentleman and take me on dates. Thank you!! I'm sorry if my cruel treatment fuelled some rash decisions you've made since. Please forgive me.

-Kristen

Dear Number Four,

Talk about an ego boost! You were the older, handsome brother of a friend and being even acknowledged by you was a THRILL! Here's a secret, while I took your roommate to Preference, my sights were really on you. I consider you my first REAL boyfriend. Oh how I loved to sit in the middle by you and hold your hand. You treated me so nicely, but you did make me a little nervous with how verbally affectionate you were, calling me “Babe” and even hinting at the “M-word.” It broke my heart as you pulled away. I still blame it on how I didn't quite fit in with your friends. Oh well.

-Kristen

Dear Number Five,

You are SUCH A NICE GUY. That's why I just couldn't say no to dating you. I regret our relationship, I think you may have been a rebound, and you most certainly didn't deserve that. I loved to chat with you though and you put in so much effort to show how much you cared, always complimenting me. Unfortunately your greatest strength was also your greatest weakness. I need a guy with more confidence and your tenderness became frustrating. I'm so sorry for being so cold towards the end. I was going through such a personally difficult time and just needed space. Thanks for being so kind.

-Kristen

Dear Number Six,

We were a bad idea from the start. We should have known all the obstacles preventing us from dating for so long should have been a sign from the start. You still loved your ex-girlfriend, but we were so attracted to each other's sheer height and intellect. You were the first amazingly tall boy I've dated. Sorry for being so weird about affection and sorry for being so mean by the end too. Again, I was going through a difficult personal time. I was not ready to let someone in. And you wanted your ex-girlfriend anyways!

-Kristen

Dear Number Seven,

I don't care what you say, I'm considering you a boyfriend. Although we never became “official,” you were the first boy I think I've ever started to fall for. I loved having you as a friend and the chemistry was always there. I hate to say it, but I spiritually suffered with you, yet I grew and learned so many other things. I learned the importance of communicating, it was cool to discuss and hear each other out. I learned it's okay to be a little bit taller than the boy and it's possible to still feel feminine if that's the case. You also showed me I need to demand some things you didn't have. You were not the worthy priesthood holder I need and you did not respect me around your friends. Although I could over look them then, they're actually important and I deserve much better. I had so much fun with you and I'll admit you were the hardest to get over.

-Kristen

I got a good chuckle out of all of these. And they made me so grateful that I no longer have to write letters like these. I'm glad I was able to learn such valuable lessons about picking the right guy. If it hadn't had been for these “evil exes” I never would have figured out the important things I need to look for and I never would have found a guy who has everything I need, and more.

I can't say enough about the man who stands by me today. Especially that he is actually still standing beside me after the fiasco of our first few months of marriage and my battle with Depression. I owe him more than I can ever repay and I look forward to standing beside him for the rest of my life and beyond.  

I now know that a husband and wife are a team and they work together and they lean on each other for support.  My stubborn pride and need for independence made the journey to discovering this little tidbit of knowledge quite difficult and much longer than needed.  I feel it's safe to say that when you're married, you no longer have "your problems."  You take on the new responsibility of "OUR PROBLEMS."  Choosing to do things on my own for so long was a bad choice and drove a real wedge between us.  I'm so glad I finally decided to lean on my spouse and that he was there all along just waiting for me to.     

Jonathan Francisco Ruiz, I love you.

Wrist Slap... Ouch

I would like to apologize for putting "mostly nude" pictures on my Honeymoon post.  They are now gone.

If you knew Jon and I personally you would understand it was nothing more than a goofy sense of humor.  In fact, we were both still wearing our swimming suits.  Taking these "pseudo-nude" pictures has become a bit of a tradition for Jon on vacation, so I figured I would join in on the fun.

I still believe and work hard at following my own Womanifesto.  I guess I didn't think taking silly pictures on my Honeymoon would be going totally against it.

My apologies.

[don't] Gimme Sympathy

Imagine you're having a bad day.

Now imagine that things get bad enough that you're pushed to the limits and you start to cry.

Now imagine that this break down happens in public.

Now imagine that a bunch of people start gathering around you, asking what's wrong and trying to console you with that look of pity mixed with sympathy in their eyes.

Who would agree with me that the LAST thing you want right then is a bunch of people crowded around you, trying to put an awkward arm around you and saying a bunch of half hearted words of consolation?

Since deciding to "come out" on my blog about the tender topic of Depression, I've been a little hesitant to hit the good old "Publish" at the end of writing each post.  At times I get worried that my somewhat brutal honesty could come across as nothing more than a plea for sympathy, or a cyber replay of the scenario I just described.  Trust me when I say that I have no evil designs of reaping the sympathy of others, in fact I write each post with dry eyes and a happy heart.

So why am I writing these painfully, maybe even awkwardly, honest posts?  Well, somebody needs to.

Although I grew up being somewhat familiar with Depression, I still thought in the back of my mind that it was really just an excuse for being in a bad mood all the time.  And everyone knows that you can choose to make yourself not be in a bad mood.  But then the bad mood hit me.  And try as I might, I just couldn't seem to be able to make myself opt out of it.

As the bad mood began to take over my life and new marriage, things eventually got very bleak.  What made things worse was my inability to accept that something was wrong and that I actually needed to treat it.  But how can you accept something that nobody EVER talks about?  Something that is SO backwards from every single happy-go-lucky image of life, especially life as a newly wed?  Because according to nearly every single newly wedded lifestyle blog out there, I'm supposed to be living the dream.

So I decided to take a stand.  I decided to accept my Depression.  I decided to be completely unembarrassed and open about it.  I decided to blog about it.  And with this decision came an unimaginable strength extended through others sharing their same stories and experiences with me.

What the heck?  I'm not alone?  I'm not the only person with this problem?!  I'm not the only young wedded woman struggling out there?

This realization was extremely eye opening, which is why I now continue to blog about my problem.  Because if the stories of others helped me out, perhaps my simple story can be a help to others.

I promise my blog isn't a pity party.  Good night.

Rewriting My Own Obituary

If I was to pin point a specific day that my Depression really set in, it would probably be the day that I started telling myself that I had died.

I'm not sure I can remember the exact day that was, but from that day on I spent a lot of time in my head composing my own obituary.  It wasn't a very good obituary either.  It was actually more of a list of regrets.  And complaints.  And it went something like this:

Kristen Gibb has died.  She thought she was in love and being smart by getting married, but really all she's done is gone and ended things.  The magic is gone.  Her fun, exciting life is over.  Yup.  She married a boy from the city and now she's going to be stuck living in a city for the rest of her life.  That's as good as being dead.  And now she's stuck in a foreign country for two months.  Missing out on the summertime back in the land she loves.  And she quit the summer job of her dreams for all of this.  So now she doesn't even get to work at the best pool in the world.  Instead she has to go job hunting.  And even when she does return from this dreadful trip, she has to live in her in-laws basement.  And she no longer has her own car because she sold it.  And she doesn't have a penny to her name either after having a wedding.  Yup.  Kristen Gibb has died.  Because this situation, and these circumstances, certainly aren't living.

Haha, I'll admit I feel kinda sheepish after being so honest, but that's how my head was working, and that's what I was thinking, and that's why I started telling myself that I had died.  It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but to a young newly wed suffering with Depression, it made all the sense in the world.

When we finally returned from our honeymoon (early...), a little part of me began to think that maybe I would be able to come back to life a little bit.  Nope.  Things went from bad to worse before I was mentally resuscitated.  

Rather than bore you with the journey, I'll skip to the good part of when I finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel.  When I finally realized that actually, "I'm not dead yet!!"  When I finally put the pen down, because my obituary won't be necessary for another sixty years or so.  And it won't even be written by me!

It was a bad night.  So I sought refuge with two people I trust and love: my aunt and uncle.  After a long and tearful conversation, a beautiful analogy was shared that has helped me ever since.  The Adam and Eve Analogy.  That went something like this:

Picture Adam and Eve blissfully content in the Garden of Eden.  Not a care in the world, literally living in a world of magic.  Now picture Adam and Eve being forced to leave the Garden.  Unsure of what lay ahead.  Starting to second guess their decision to eat that forbidden fruit in the first place.  Maybe even beginning to feel that life won't be quiet so magical, ever again.  Slowly filling with regret.  Anxiety.  And fear.

How did this apply to me?  Well, in a way, I had been living in a Garden of Eden of single adulthood.  I was free as a bird to come and go as I pleased.  My life was full of whims and dreams.  I saw the world as a magical place that I was in control of.  Then the time eventually came to leave this place.  And I began to feel like life ended outside the Garden.  That marriage was the end of the magic.  And that I was doomed to a dark and dreary world for the rest of my life.  Or at least that's what my Depression was telling me.

Fortunately, we know how necessary leaving the Garden of Eden was for Adam and Eve.  They lost a little, but they gained a lot.  Life didn't end after the Garden, in fact, it began!  And the best part was that they had each other to face the new adventures of life on earth.  They went forward together, and they didn't look back.  

I can't describe the impact this little analogy had on me in the dark, depressing time.  It made me realize that I had two choices.  I could go back to the Garden of Eden, literally taking a step backward in my life and progression, or I could take Jon's arm and walk away from the Garden with faith and fond memories.  I'm so glad I chose the latter.  

A Collection of Things My Inner Child is Dying to Scream Out.

I started working as a lifeguard and swimming instructor again last month.  I just can't seem to be able to escape my first job.  Fortunately, I'm still a student, so it's forgivable to still be rocking the same job I had in grade ten.

Anyways, long story short, I am now working with children for a great deal of time each day.  I teach them how to blow bubbles, do back floats, and front crawl.  And we play games.  

If I had things my way, we would probably just play games for the entire lesson.  Because I have the maturity of a five year old when I get in the water.  Unfortunately, my boss tends to sneak on to the deck every so often to make sure us instructors are being responsible.

With this sudden saturation of child socialization, I can feel my inner child dying to get some things out.  Because honestly, most of the time I still feel like I'm a minor.  And when I say minor, I mean less than 12.

So allow me to share a collection of things my inner child is in fact dying to scream out about.

I WANT CANDY!!!

Why can't I eat candy for every single meal of the day?  Okay, I know the answer.  I would feel sick and instantly regret it.  And it would completely ruin anything I did that day in regards to exercise.  But that doesn't stop me from wanting it.  A lot.  Side note:  Don't go to Bulk Barn when you're feeling this way.  You will cave in a big, big way.  

SOMEBODY PUSH ME!!!

Yup that's me.  And I need a push.  Usually I can get up and swinging no problem, but lately I'm lazy and I just want somebody to give me a quick push.  Heck, I'd even take an "under duck."  What I'm trying to say is that I'm seriously lacking in the ambition department.  My life has been so abnormal lately that my poor little routine has been beat up and shoved into a dumpster.  So can somebody just push me into that dumpster so I can pick it back up and be friends with a structured life again?

I WANT NEW TOYS!!!

For the longest time, I looked forward to Jon and I moving into a place of our own.  Now that we are finally in that place of our own, I now want other things.  (That's really how life works, eh?  A constant battle of wanting, receiving, and then wanting more.  Disgusting... and guilty)  Anyways, as I continue to unpack, I'm realizing that I need, I mean, want, some new toys.  Like a new bed.  Don't get me wrong, but Jon's "nest" is very lovely, but sometimes it gets old to be continually rolling into the springless middle of a bed.  But I am grateful for a nest bed!  It will make for a great story 20 years down the road.

 I WANT MY MOM!!!

Sometimes I think this very look creeps into my twenty-three year old eyes.  Just look at me.  I want my mom.  I wish I would have realized how much stuff my mom does before I was married and bequeathed the mantel of "woman-of-the-house."  There was this one time that I just laid on the floor and when Jon came to ask me what was wrong, all I could muster to say was, "I want my mom."  And then a single tear may or may not have slipped from my eyes.  Long story short, I want my mom a lot lately.  Fortunately, I'm visiting her right now.  And she just made me these caramel chocolate chip cookie squares.  Be jealous.  I have the best mom.

WHAT THE HECK?!?

It seems like the day before yesterday that I was in Angela's old playhouse, hanging out with friends, and we were talking about baby names we liked, as if they were something impossibly far away.  And then it seems like yesterday, we were all telling dead baby jokes and talking about being baby haters.  And now all the sudden today, I'm sitting here looking at pictures of these same girls holding their own spawn, talking about how much they love these crying and pooping machines with exceptionally hip names.  Ummm, when did this all happen?  We're not supposed to be having babies!  We're still babies ourselves!  But they sure make cute mommies.

Ummm, wanna play dress up?

No description necessary.  I've been dying to.  Let me know if you're in.  I have a very big selection of vintage dresses to choose from.  And we could take pictures of ourselves.  And put them on Facebook. You know you wanna.

Have yourself a good week.  Cheers.