Failure to Thrive

When a relationship is on the edge teetering on a rocky cliff- the silence can be a beautiful thing to embrace. Do I really want to be screaming on my sinking ship or do I want to be quietly sinking into the abyss?

Oh I’d rather go quietly into the night….

So realizing this relationship is the freaking Titanic of failures.. I remind myself of the 5 steps of grieving.

1. Denial and Isolation – Off in the quiet I go pretending it’s not really happening. Keeping my thoughts to myself. My inner workings has already cut the cord, but I am in denial. In response I isolate myself from the party… off to the quiet to silently sneak out the back door and I’m gone.

2. Anger- The first moment I realized I was being stabbed in the back… I pulled that knife out and like a dart cutting through the words of hatefulness I threw it back with all my might. Well not really cause I’m a total sissy, but I said… I didn’t care because I was still somewhat in the denial stage. Inside I was a raging bitch.

3. Bargaining – This lasted the shortest amount of time. I convinced myself that maybe if I write the letter or the email… extend the olive branch that will make it better. That didn’t make it better in fact it made it worse and I regret it. Then somewhere in my return to denial I thought I’d try again to make contact… then I said no to myself you’re bargaining again and it wont work. This is a complete wash at this point. I kept trying to tell myself that unlike the grieving of death that it could one day turn around… one day it might be better. Again I am bargaining with hope lost on me.

4. Depression – I have been trying so hard to see through this fog. It’s like the first of many things after someone dies. The first Valentines, the first birthday or the first Christmas without someone. It hurts when they don’t call or care to write, but they’re unable to make contact because they are no longer physically capable of doing so. This is just the cold war of silent treatment. Just like the Cold War I am on edge in defense of the long range missiles.

5. Acceptance – This stage is so awesome. This is where I put on my I don’t give a shit armor. I dance around in the face of the silence and celebrate for just a moment. I have arrived. I have realized I can’t fix this. I can’t fix the silence. I can’t fix and undo the undone of this life I had once shared with this person. That’s okay. I can’t fix everything.

The hard part is that I realize that I can at anytime return to phase two and work my way through this process again in a day. It takes a text, a phone call, a picture, and I return to anger… or bargaining or depression. I have at least made it… I touched acceptance and realized it can be done.

At a field day once we were playing on this bungee like cord that was at our waist line. You run with the belt and try to put flags that look like flag football strips onto velcro strips. You have to pull with all your might and tag the flags onto the strips before you get pulled away. I reached for the velcro and pulled all the way to get to the strip that was the farthest away with great tension I flew backwards with a thud on my back. I laughed- it was fun. I had reached it and it was pure joy for me to reach the end.

I have reached the end of the velcro of this grieving stage. I have tagged the end of the line. I know I can reach it. I may fall back sometimes, but I can reach out and touch the end of this and find acceptance.

Acceptance of our failure to thrive…. together.


Proclamation of Indignation


Like the rhythm of the pitter patter of toddler feet.

The Run. The Day. The Loss. The Path I Chose. 

A wedge in place to drive across the log a great divide.

The canyon – the wedge – it went along an unanticipated path.

Shockingly it spread like lightening across the sky as the axe fell.

The thunder stolen. My light. My moment. My joy.


Pockets full of words brought from winter to spring. It’s time to change the seasons.

Put the tree and the clover into their designated boxes.

Soaking in a refreshing pool of water did not hide the tears.

Shedding off the burden like a fluffy winter sweater. It’s spring.

I placed the crocus behind my ear and it crumbled. I watched it in full bloom wither to flatness- depleted of its resources.

There’s too much light in here now… too much to steal. I’ve been sun kissed.

It stings a little, but maybe a little proclaiming is better than blaming seasons nonetheless.

I Went a Loggin’

If I were to go logging I would worry the whole time which way the tree would fall and how I would carry the burden. I would have it all plotted out and carefully designed in my implications of my plans, but in the end a little bit of chance, wind, and gravity take it in a direction I had not anticipated. This time last year I was completing applications for teaching jobs. I was networking my tail off, meeting, calling, and pestering. While I was stressing about the outcomes of falling trees that I could not control – I wasn’t sleeping well and my thoughts were all over the place. I wrote a blog about this place of indecision. The blog is called “My Mantra is in the Steady Pace of a Good Run”.

I describe running as a meditation and time of prayer- I am not talking about the short runs. I’m talking about these long runs that push beyond the point of comfort. A good run to me is when I can find a pace and a mantra that flow together. The blog previously mentioned includes my thoughts from a ten mile run. Below is the mantra –

Do not behave out of desperation. Do not behave out of character. Instead behave out of necessity. Behave with the strength and the courage that others may not possess and even when they do not understand the lengths you will go to … do NOT falter. Behave as you feel called to do and with that I arose like a shot out of the cannon I shaved nearly two minutes off of my pace in the next two miles. 

One of the things that has been blocking my mind for running is the fact that I knew I had not trained enough for a half marathon that was last weekend. I was disappointed with myself and just the luck of the situation – I had oral surgery, then got laryngitis and then bronchitis. I simply wasn’t ready with my training. It was like an entire beaver dam of logs set up around that artery clogging my mind. I was nearly ready to behave out of desperation and character. Instead I refocused myself to only do what was in that moment necessary to do  – which was to celebrate my husband’s success in completing the half-marathon on his own. He deserved for me to not be in a funk about myself and my bitter disappointment.

There is this special award in our town called a “triple crown”. If you run three half-marathons then you get a third award for being so awesome. I missed the first leg of the eligibility to earn the crown. Although it may seem silly, it was my goal of the year. I had let go of the possibility of tackling a marathon and had decided to settle on the three half-marathons. Much to my disappointment, I had to behave with strength and courage and admit to myself that the lengths I would have to go to would be unreachable. I awoke this morning realizing I had moved enough of my mental clogging away to just simply make a new goal. I feel as though I should act in a way that I’ve been called to do and capture it.

I just have to take one log at a time to get back to me. I needed to unclog some of those arteries that led to the path of me. In the last week I started with blogging because I hadn’t done that in far too long – I ran again – talked with my pastor for a long time – focused on my meals for the week – made sure I had some down time – and made some upcoming travel plans. I had in a sense shot out of a cannon again.