A Letter to my husband

Now that my sweet man has read this I figured I would post it.
Happy Valentine’s Day folks!!

To Viktor, my love, on this Valentine s Day….

I am sure you’ve heard talk of the 7 year itch before. Supposedly when two people have been together for 7 years they begin to grow apart, and their eyes start to wonder to “better” things. It may be true for some people, but if you ask me, year 7 was the year we truly fell in love.

Now, before you think “I always loved you! What are you saying?!” Hear me out.

We came together when I was 18 and you were 23 years young. That year before our meeting was easily the worst year of my life. I lost my best friend, I was in an awful relationship with a boy that tore me down to nothing, I was lost, tired and raw when I came running to Asheville. You were at the end of your divorce, you had lost everything. You were drinking too much and playing a part that definitely wasn’t you. I’ve always said that when we got together we proceeded to sew each other up, patching wounds, showing each other love we didn’t know existed in this world.

I loved you from the beginning.

I just knew you were going to change my life.

We were wild and reckless and looking back on it, I am surprised we never self destructed. But I think we were always connected at our cores, in a way that even wild fire can’t destroy. It was always us against the world, and I have never felt safer than by your side.

You were so sweet. I smile thinking of it now. When you sent me sunflowers for Valentine’s Day and we hadn’t even been together two weeks. I didn’t even know men like you existed. I didn’t know how to be loved so I balked at your kindness. You just smiled and held my hand. I sanded down your rough edges and taught you to be kind to everyone not just me. I would like to think I taught you to pick your battles in this world. You taught me about patience and that touch doesn’t always have to hurt.

Then we had our silly Anders and you moved with me to Kentucky, and you did everything you could to make sure we were taking care of. I remember thinking…”he really isn’t leaving, he really is going to stay with me.”
And our love continued to grow and of course we had our tribulations, bad days and good but in retrospect I would say we had the easy kind of love then, shallow roots.

When your mom passed you pulled away from me and it’s taken awhile to bring you back. This past year we were tested in a multitude of ways. But I think that instead of shying away from each other like we had before and waiting until the storm passes and the weather became sunny again, We jumped into that storm and sailed the ship together. We chose each other over and over in love, every, single, day. We cried and we held each other together. We really listened when the other person spoke and we gave gifts and surprises from the heart. We didn’t just live in our love hoping it would be enough to see us through like we had always done before, but we fortified it making sure it would be. We were no longer passive lovers, but fierce warriors for our love.

So I would like to say thank you for helping make year 7 the year we fell deeper in love rather than the year we fell apart. Love seems too small a word, with too loose a meaning, for how I feel. Especially on Valentine’s Day sometimes, it can lose its meaning. There’s To Cherish, to relish, intoxicating, consuming, steady, strong………with all the energy and dedication of the moving ocean tides,consistently kissing the land, sometimes with ferocity, sometimes tenderly, but always….always and forever.

So here is to ocean tides and moon light and year 8…

Love, love, love.

Ciera

Advertisements

Holy Weekends Batman

This weekend has been long.

Friday I took the last Effexor I had. I knew that I had to get a refill that day or else go into withdraw. I would have just called my doctor earlier that week but the staff kicked me out of his practice because of too many no call no shows. (( Apparently they did this in October, but didn’t tell me until I called to make an appointment 2 weeks ago and when I mentioned my doctor had been refilling my meds she said, “oh he probably doesn’t know.” )) Not to mention the Effexor hadn’t really been working anyway for a couple months. I had spent Tuesday-Thursday night up late in the deep dark hole of depression or waking up on and off an anxiety filled mess dreading the morning. So my brother took the boys to West Virginia with him to visit my mom for the weekend which allowed me and my husband to go sit at the emergency psychiatric hospital’s ER from 7-1 am.

Now, I don’t know if you all have ever experienced a place like this but it was intense. The guards, the glass between you and the registrar, keys to unlock every door, you even got locked in the bathroom and somebody had to let you out. They first do an assessment with a nurse, she asked if I had been feeling suicidal and I said yes because that was the truth. Because I said yes they had to put me in the locked, secure area while I waited. Which Kind of terrified me. I have never been in a situation like that and I understand the concern and the protocol but i do think it was a little over the top for my situation. So I was taken through locked doors, strip searched (!!), changed into tan scrubs, and given a blanket. I felt like a prisoner and was really scared at the possibility of having to stay there. I will say as mortifying and terrifying as it was the nurses and staff were incredibly nice and comforting. The nurse even let my husband come back and let us sit in a room off the hall together so I wouldn’t be alone for hours with nothing to do but watch whatever was on TV in the adult in patient lobby. Visitors are allowed but they aren’t suppose to be there for hours like that, so she really was being accommodating and understanding. We played 20 questions and rock, paper, scissors. I don’t know what I would have done without him.

I think that hospital inpatient stays are awesome and a great resource, but being in that situation by myself made me worse. Even when my husband was there, it was all I could do to hold myself together. The nervous counting I do skyrocketed, i was suddenly really paranoid and anxiety ridden. I am 100% sure that being forced to stay in a facility would (at least at this point in my life) make Things worse. Anyways, at midnight I saw the psychiatrist. We talked , he upped my Effexor dosage and set me free. I will say I wasn’t completely honest because I was so scared of being stuck there. But he gave me some resources.

Saturday I slept really late, dealt with insurance problems with my medicine but finally got it.

Today, though, was nice. We had lots of good moments over the whole weekend but it was also just really stressful. I am so glad the boys were at my moms. They got to have a fun, awesome weekend and I got to fix myself.

I can’t say I’m feeling a lot better but I suppose I am getting there.

This is a picture of me and my husband from today’s adventure.

IMG_0254