moving forward

It’s the Final Countdown

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

(If you sung that title in your head while reading it, we can be friends)

If you know me even a little bit, you know we are almost at my favorite holiday, New Year’s Eve. Really, what’s not to love? It’s literally a night where the very next day you get to start over. First page of a blank book, clean slate, whatever you want to call it, I love it. With the rip of a calendar page the whole world can begin again. We essentially get to go to bed one night and be reborn the next morning as we embark on a new year.

I’ve had this blog since 2013 which means this will be my 8th year of posting a New Year’s Eve post. Even if I hadn’t written for months, I always found it obligatory to document what was going to be my great baptism into a “new year” and a “new me”. Looking back sure didn’t disappoint in that assumption. Post after post of “this is all the crap that happened this year” and “next year is going to be the best ever. I’m going to make it my year.” Blah, Blah, Blah. I’m nothing if not consistent it seems.

2013 was the year I was going to “rest and reflect” after a mother’s day miscarriage, my dad dying, and major heartbreak. But…it was also the year I found running, which I wouldn’t have done had 2013 been all hearts and flowers. 2014 was the year of shedding all that 2013 had burdened me with. It was also the year that I became pregnant with Charlotte and ran (and walked) a half-marathon at almost 5 months pregnant. I look back at that girl sometimes, completely in awe of how much she was able to overcome and how she really stuck to all the goals that she set out to achieve.

Fast forward to 2017. The hard year. The worst year. The year with the least amount of blog posts. The year I had no desire to document or ever hear from again. But also…the year I left home for good. The year I got out of a very toxic and harmful marriage. The year I finally had a little courage. The year I was brave. 2018 and 2019 almost look like mirror images. These were the years I was going to stop quitting things. These were the years I was going to let my baggage go. These were the years that I was going to finally be that grown-up version of myself that I was supposed to become.

And for the most part, I did become that person. 2020 was no joke. I know this year was tough for a lot of people, and I definitely had my share of bitter moments. There were the two miscarriages in May and June. There was the small, though significant breakdown in January. There was the sadness of missing my friends due to Covid 19. But there was also so much wonderfulness that came out of 2020. I finally got divorced and won my custody battle. We took so many trips as a family. We adopted two wonderful puppies. Because of virtual schooling I got to spend so much time with my kids, which is exactly what I had spent the past two years fighting for. For the most part, it was a good year.

The time has come,’ the Walrus said, To talk of many things: Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax —Of cabbages — and kings —And why the sea is boiling hot —And whether pigs have wings.’

The time has come.

For the first time I’m not going into a new year hoping to completely the slate clean and start all over. Do I have goals and plans for 2021? Absolutely. But that’s not this post. I am in a constant state of evolution. And this year is even more different as it’s also the year I turn 40 in a little under a month. Instead this is just going to be the year that I work. On my family, on my relationships, and mostly on myself. It feels like I FINALLY have the other parts of my life under control and now there are no more excuses. I’m allowed to try hard.  I’m allowed to be good at things. Hell, I’m allowed to be bad at things.  I’m allowed to love you too much and tell you about it.  I’m also allowed to tell you why you are hurting my feelings if you are.  I’m allowed to take a break from people who aren’t letting me be me and are constantly trying to put me down to make themselves feel better.  I’m allowed to be who I am, and if someone doesn’t like it, it’s their loss.

Most of all, I am allowed to shed all of the stuff from my past that is not working for me any more. Opinions, judgments, people, fears, assumptions. Boy, bye.

“Don’t look back. You’re not going that way.” I couldn’t have said it any better myself.

The Things We’re Not Supposed to Say

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

I’m supposed to be at the doctor today, 10 weeks pregnant, giddy from the idea of hearing my baby’s heartbeat and maybe getting a sonogram. Instead I’m sitting in my pajamas trying to get comfortable with the idea that I just had a miscarriage. As in JUST. As in this morning. On the day I’m supposed to confirm that everything is ok, it most definitely is not.

We knew this was a possibility. The numbers were low early on. The measurements were slow early on. Everything was being treated with a grain of salt. There was always a 50/50 chance of things going either way. Things could be fine…or not. So for six long and hard weeks we played the waiting game. Always waiting for the next appointment. Always waiting for a definitive answer that things really were OK. Or even that things really weren’t OK. Something more than the 50%.

Because while the 50% may have been a blessing for some, it was slowly and ferociously eating at my soul. Never knowing what was what. Never having control. Never being about to do ANYTHING to help this situation. I cried a lot. And slept a lot. As do most people at the beginnings of their pregnancy. But really it was more than that. It was the constant weight of the wondering and hoping while also trying to be realistic that was crushing me.

But now, it’s over.

This is not my first miscarriage, but it is by far and away the hardest one yet to endure. There was the ectopic before Max. And the miscarriage before Max. And the miscarriage after Oliver on Mother’s Day. And the miscarriage the day Charlotte turned 10 weeks old. This is obviously not my first time here. But this one is different. Not only is it because it is with someone new, someone who I love more than anything, someone who I wanted to share this very special and sacred thing with. Not only because I was further along than any of the others and literally had to feel the miscarriage. Not those things. With each miscarriage before there was always the idea of trying again. That there will be more opportunities. And at this point in my life, I just don’t think that’s true.

And I know we’re not supposed to talk about these things. We’re not supposed to put this shit in the universe. It’s all supposed to be unsaid and hidden, deep down in the core of our soul. But really, why? Because we might make someone else uncomfortable? That’s mostly why I write instead of talk. You can read it if you want. Or not. That’s your choice. But I’m sad and hurting and to me, keeping it inside makes it worse. It makes me feel like it’s my fault. It makes me feel like this is something I should be ashamed of. It makes me feel like I’m alone.

AND. NONE. OF. THAT. IS. TRUE.

So I’m going to pick myself up and put on some running clothes. I’m going to open the blinds and let some sunshine in. I’m going focus on the things that I can do now: a second cup of coffee, hot tubs, hiking part of the Appalachian Trail in April, running, wine, brie, and so many other things. While I know it won’t take the pain away, it will remind me that I’m still here. I have still have things to do. I can still make plans to make my life extraordinary.

And I can hug my three little miracles a little tighter each night knowing they truly are a gift to me every single day.

Lost and Found

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

I seem to have lost myself.  And my will.  And my motivation.  And I can’t seem to find any of them.

I think back to last summer.  Training for the NYC marathon.  Running almost every day, even in the heat. 50 pounds lighter than I am now (the shame).  Happier kids.  Happier life.  Happier marriage.  I sit here and I wonder…what the fuck happened?

When I think about it, I tend to place the blame on other people and situations.  This person came into my life.  This person left.  Work became harder.  A third baby was added.  Time and money were short, as were tempers and understanding.  All of this things can take the blame for my unhappiness, the lack of motivation, the weigh gain, the drinking gain, the indiscretions.

And none of that blame is actually working to fix the problem.  It’s making me a victim.  And I hate being the victim.

Maybe, instead of placing the blame and over analyzing the past year I can suck it up and move on.  Who cares how I got to this place?  Does it really even matter?  The point is, I’m here.  And I need to find my way out.  I know no one can do this for me.  I have to find my way on my own.  But it’s HARD.

I can say, things seem to be headed in the right direction and my support system, though smaller by a few people, is incredibly mighty.  I’m learning to ask for help.  I’m learning to accept help when it’s offered.  Homelife is becoming more concrete, and sound, and loving.

And now to work on the rest.

I’m not used to baby steps.  I’m not used to slow progress.  I’m not  patient person.  When I want something, I want it now.  But with that, my life seems to be a bunch of random “One step forward, two steps back” mishaps.  So maybe now, I go slow.  Take each day and change at a snails pace. Work to strengthen everything instead of just fixing is for a minute.

Maybe going slow isn’t so bad.  Maybe it’s just what need to find where I’m hiding.

49561-for-a-minute-there-i-lost-myself

Complacency, Love, and the Weather

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

As is too often with these posts, I start by saying…it’s been too long since I have written anything new.  I could blame work, school, kids, life,  but really that would only be the icing on a cake too tall to tackle.  The real problem is myself and even that is not enough to explain what has happened to me over the past few months.  As is usually the case I am torn between being happy (complacent) with the life I have and wanting (needing) something more.

While I feel like I say it every year, this one, by far, has been the hardest one to navigate.  Between friendships found, and lost, and found, the bumpy and panic inducing ride that is 11 years of marriage, losing and finding myself over and over again, and simply finding time to breathe through it all, I feel like I’ve been broken and put back together so many times that I wonder if all my pieces have survived.

 

I wonder, sometimes, if my biggest problem is more simple than I realize.  That maybe my expectations for people and their behaviors are simply too high. Mostly, I feel that people will never meet mine and am forever doomed to sit and silence and ponder if it’s them or me.  And yet, why ponder?  I know it’s me. I simply assume everyone puts forth the same amount of everything I do: love, effort, understanding, movement, change.  And when they don’t I am undoubtably dissapointed.  “They” say expectation is the root of all heartache and this is something I wholeheartedly believe.  But do we give up, accept this, and work to assimilate to the “others”; the ones that we feel are disappointing us?  Decide to live in quiet complacency, knowing we could have it worse?  That maybe if we just let things go, decide to give up what we feel we need, that we could live an almost happy life?

Or do we simply wait?  Wait for the changes we are asking for.  Wait for love we know we need and deserve. Wait for a life we know we are not going to simply exist in…but actually live in.

The conundrum exists: do you hope for the hurricane or simply enjoy the calm and still air of almost?  Sometimes, the hurricane is worth it.  It’s beautiful and perfect in its power and destruction, changing the landscape of your life forever, tearing down the extraneous walls you’ve built up to keep things out (or in).  Other times it simply destroys everything, coming and going in meer moments, leaving an empty hole where something stable (maybe not profound or amazing), but stable used to be.

I’m watching people take these leaps and bounds in their lives and am becoming completely envious. Picking up and moving away.  Finding a new and meaningful job.  Leaving behind a mediocre life for a great one. For a while, it was hard to watch their journey because of the jealousy.  What luck to get exactly what you want; what you’ve been hoping for. They made it looked so easy.  But now, I know it is their bravery I covet.  The sheer courage to say “This is what I want and I’m going to go for it.”  They decided take some action instead of sitting around and talking, wondering, or even writing about it.  Taking the risk in the hurricane, even if it destroys everything.

No matter how much back and forth I do in these situations, deep down, I know what it is that I want.

And it’s time to go and buy an umbrella.

satellite-view-of-hurricane

We’ll all float on Ok.

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

I don’t seem to know who I am anymore.

Not so long ago I felt like I had it all figured out.  I’m a mom.  I’m a runner.  I’m a teacher.  I’m a friend.  Things were going well.  I had a wonderful new daughter, two amazing boys, and a fantastic support system of friends and family.  I literally had no complaints and was perfectly content any happy.

And then I broke…again.

This wasn’t like the first time I felt that I had broke, when my dad had died.  When that happened I feel apart all at once so it was almost easier to out myself back together.  The pieces were right there and easier to find, not scattered over space and time.

I wish I could say I knew the exact moment that it happened, but really it was a series of events that started small, each one separately almost microscopic in size, but together crumbled my world into a million pieces.

I cut back on my running and dropped out of the NYC marathon.

An old friend came back into my life just when I thought I was finally over our past.

I lost a person in my life who I thought was a good friend.

The separation began…and ended…and began…and changed so much that I don’t even know where we are at this point.

Most recently I’ve done things I probably shouldn’t have.  I’ve eaten things I probably shouldn’t have.  I’ve stopped running altogether.  With each passing day, the numbers on the scale keep inching closer to where I said I never wanted to be again.  And the worst part of it all is that I just don’t seem to care.  Not about being a bad person, or losing certain people from my life, or even losing everything I worked for.  None of it.

I feel like I’m on the roundabout on the playground spinning more and more out of control each day.  The sad part is that I know I’m the one that’s pushing it to go faster and faster.  I am in complete and utter control of this and I can’t seem to jump off and just stop. Because I know that when I do I’m going to break even more from the impact.  I know that I’m really going to have to work to find all the pieces and put myself back together again.  Not only in the “now” but in the past too.  The task seems daunting and so impossible that 99% of the time I don’t even have the desire to try.

But then, out of the blue, today happened.  The 1%.  The one glimmer of hope I had been hoping for.

We’re driving to the park and the library and all three kids are squeezed into the back seat.  Charlotte is singing along to Modest Mouse playing in the background while Oliver and Max argued about how many sheep are in an adjoining field.  The sun was shining in the blue sky as wispy clouds float by, my hand out the window rising and falling in the warm air.  I finally felt it.  What I had been longing to feel for so long lately.  A sense of peace and contentment.   A sense of placement.

This is where I was supposed to be.  Maybe not forever, but at least for right now.

And with that tiny feeling of hope, I know that pretty soon I’ll have enough courage to make the leap off the roundabout.  And maybe, just maybe, my feet will actually hit the ground and I’ll be able to pick myself up and begin to collect all the pieces.

I’m not me. But I will be soon.

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

I started the post awhile ago and then stopped.  There are so many truths within it that I just didn’t know if I was willing to face them.  By admitting these things, I feel like my life course, my life as I know it, essentially all that I am, will be different.  And I’m literally writing this after I had a mental breakdown on the side of the road at 5:30 in the morning.

I started running when my dad died.  Ok.  That’s not entirely accurate, but that’s the truth that I tend to tell people because it seems more acceptable than the real story.  More acceptable and less ugly. But really, what have I got to lose at this point?  Nothing.  They say the truth will set you free.  Well, maybe that’s just what I need.  Freedom from who I think I am so I can become the real me.

After my dad died I fell apart.  Which was odd to me because we hadn’t spoken in 5 years.  But I had often seen myself in him.  He was angry a lot and tended to push those who were closest to him away.  As I watched him die sick and alone I worried that this is what my life was destined for.  And I tried to run away from everything.  During that time I got caught up in a relationship that I shouldn’t have.  I thought it was healing me when in reality it was slowly dismantling me.  When it ended, leaving me heartbroken and empty, I had no idea how to handle two losses in such a short amount of time.  So I went for a run.  And it truly saved me. I had found something that could put me back together, slowly and piece by piece.

And it worked…for a time.

I loved being able to say I was a runner.  It helped me feel accomplished, like I could do anything.  It made me feel more confident and pretty bad ass. But it also gave me an escape from my life, the escape I thought I had needed before; a way to “run away” so to speak.  In reality, it didn’t save me from myself.  It simply gave me the outlet to gloss over my problems; to bury them deep down and save them for another day.

Cut to me crying on the side of the road because I couldn’t run.  I have so much going on in my life that I had begun to use running as that escape again.  Now I have an injury and can’t run.  What am I supposed to do?  Without the running, I’m actually going to have to face the demons in my life.  I’m actually going to have to figure out what’s wrong and get to the root of my problems.

And I don’t know if I can do that.  I’ve been putting them in the background for so long that I don’t how to face my problems without running away.  I don’t know if I’m entirely ready to make these hard decisions that I know have to be made.  I don’t think I’m disciplined enough to make the changes that I need to make in order to actually survive.

But maybe that’s why this happened.  Maybe this injury is the universe’s way of telling me to grow a pair and handle my shit.  Because life is short.  And time is not guaranteed.

I need to say good-bye to running for awhile.  I need to learn how to cope without it. I need to learn how to love myself completely without the label of being a runner.  Once I’m whole again, we can start our journey all over, when running is something in my life and not the only thing.

Here goes nothing.

images.jpeg

The time has come, the Walrus said, to talk of many things

/ Cassie / Leave a comment
Tis the season.  For families, and holidays, and presents, and cheer.  Like most, I love this time of year.  The chill in the air, the twinkle lights everywhere, the break from work and school (and many annoying responsibilities).  But I’d have to say, Christmas is not my favorite holiday.  If I had to pick one, it would definitely be New Years.
Honestly, I am big fan of New Years Resolutions.  While I agree that you can begin a resolution at any time and you should never wait to change something you truly believe in, there is something so wonderful about the year ticking over to a new new number. It’s almost as if New Years Day is a form baptism.  With the change of a number, the mistakes and regrets and uncomfortable feelings cease to exist, making it that much easier to start fresh and anew.  With the rip of a calendar page the whole world can begin again. You can set goals, make new decisions, basically become the person you have been waiting to become.
2015 has been a roller coaster of a year.  I don’t think any other year has accomplished so much amazingness and turmoil all at once.  From babies had, houses moved, friends gained and friends lost, races run and races quit, and love found and then rescinded, I’ve been undeniably busy and just living.
In so many ways I know who I am. I tend to have too many emotions and too often, the way I express them is over the top.  I cry too much, feel too much, love too hard, get jealous when I shouldn’t, and have a terrible temper. I’m loyal, but cautious.  I don’t always believe the best in people, and I’ve been proven right.  These are simply things I am not going to apologize for anymore.  I shouldn’t have to apologize for my feelings because they are real and a part of who I am, and the way I feel is important.
Very recently I’ve become more honest with myself which has allowed me to be more honest with those around me.  Often I would avoid conflict or confrontation at any cost simply because it made me uncomfortable.  But now, I’ve learned that the discomfort does go away and after speaking your mind openly and honestly, you feel so much better.  Just a few days ago I said good bye to a friend, not because of anything they did wrong, per se, but because the relationship we had built over the past 3 years was not working for me anymore.  I wanted a change and the other person didn’t.  And for three years I let someone elses wants and needs trump my own.  But not anymore.  Walking away was so hard.  But not as hard as staying in an unhealthy friendship.
Long story short, what I’m learning is that it’s ok to care about your own wants and needs…and to do what you have to do to meet them.
I’m allowed to try hard.  I’m allowed to be good at things. Hell, I’m allowed to be bad at things.  I’m allowed to love you too much and tell you about it.  I’m also allowed to tell you why you are hurting my feelings if you are.  I’m allowed to take a break from people who aren’t letting me be me and are constantly trying to put me down to make themselves feel better.  I’m allowed to be who I am, and if someone doesn’t like it, it’s their loss.  I actually think I’m pretty awesome sometimes.
I’m ready  to take some time in 2016 to focus on me, what I want, who I am and who I want to be.

What I mean to say is…

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don’t resist them – that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.” ~Lao Tzu

Life has a way

Sometimes, wanting to change

When you don’t know where to start, just start.

Charlie has become obsessed with my phone.  Sometimes I flip through random crap while I’m feeding her because, while I know this is a perfect bonding time, this is also one of the few times I have when more than one kid is not climbing all over my body.  When it started she would simply turn her head towards the light.  Now, she stops eating and begins grabbing at it.  She’s not even four months old yet and already she is falling into the technology trap.

I’ll be the first to admit, I’m addicted to my phone. I’d like say that I mostly use it for music, my running apps, and looking up random crap on Google when my kids need to know something that I don’t know (life span of a cicada anyone?).  But in the interest of full disclosure, that’s a load of crap.  Most of my time is spent checking Facebook.  And I’m pretty ashamed to admit it.

Half the time I don’t even realize I’m doing it.  It’s like my finger is drawn to that little blue icon of its own free will.  I’ll start scrolling through and randomly liking pictures and statues without even realizing what I’m doing.  There’s also the posting, as if I feel that I need to share every little thing with all my “friends”.

And if we’re being really, really honest there’s the Facebook stalking: the checking of statuses, pictures, profiles of people I’m “friends” with (and even those I’m not “friends” with).  What, oh what, have I become?

I compare.  I judge.  I check.  I get depressed by things I learn.  And all of this is ridiculous. It’s Facebook.  Facebook.  I’m getting worked up and sad over freaking Facebook.  I’m a 34 year old high schooler.

I read this great article the other day.  Ironically, it popped up on Facebook.  And three days later I’ve read it 10 times.  I know this is what I need to do.  For me.  For my family.  And even for my marathon training.

The sad thing is, pretty much everyone I interact with on Facebook, I also interact with in the “real world”.  We text, we chat, we hang out.  And yet, I feel like I need the validation of this friendship online as well…and I shouldn’t.

I could just delete that little icon or simply not log in.  But I know that won’t happen.  So I need it gone completely.  Just for a little while.  Just to detox.  A week, maybe two.

I’ll see you on the flip side.

71-is-your-facebook-status-about-me

My Ode to Collington

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“It may be that the satisfaction I need depends on my going away, so that when I’ve gone and come back, I’ll find it at home.” ~Rumi

I was only at Collington Square Elementary for two weeks before contacting the local teacher union about transferring to a different school.  This wasn’t what I signed up for, I constantly told myself.  I had completed my student teaching at a technology magnet school in the “county”.  My first few years of teaching were spent at a well-to-do private school on an island in South Carolina.  My teacher education, while at a nationally renowned teaching university, had not prepared me for any of this; for the public schools of East Baltimore.

As I drove up the streets to the school for my teaching interview, the boarded up buildings should have been my first clue that I was completely out of my comfort zone; that I was completely out of my element.   My second clue should have come from the fact that I was hired immediately after a 1o minute interview.  At the time I thought it was because I was “that good”.  Now I know it was most likely because they were desperate.

I knew this would be a challenge, but I didn’t care.  I was an idealistic sociology and education major and I was ready to change the world.  I’ve always liked a good challenge and I was ready to embrace this one with open arms.

We heard teachers talk at the new teacher institute about things that were happening at Collington.  They talked about fights, disrespectful students, children who didn’t have shoes, incarcerated parents, an uncaring and absent administration.  I still thought I could handle this.

But on the first day, I realized how wrong I was.  I grew up poor, but this was POOR, in all capital letters.  I wanted nothing more than to run out of the building and never look back.  I wanted to find a cushy job in a place where I didn’t always have to feel like an outsider.  Those of us that were new banded together like a club, while those that were “seasoned” merely put up with us expecting that many of us would not last.  I was in way over my head.  I was promised support.  I was promised supplies.  I was promised a safe environment.  And while the school may have failed to provide me with any of these things, I was provided with so much more.

I have gained a kind of confidence that can only come from being in the trenches of a war.  True, my classroom is made up of the tiny friends of the school and we don’t have the same struggles the older classes have, but we do have our own.  I’ve learned how to solve my own problems and know full well that no one is going to solve them for me.  I’ve learned how to make something out of nothing.  I’ve learned how to scour back to school ads for the best deals in supplies, because I’m the one who provides them for all 25 of my students throughout the year.  I’ve learned how to negotiate for so many things.  I’ve learned how to ask for what I want, even though I know I won’t get it.  I now know how to not feel so intimidated, or at least how to hide it.  I’ve lost the feeling that I always had, the feeling that I needed everyone to like me all the time.  That’s not my job.  My job is to teach, inspire, encourage, create, and mold…and at Collington, I’ve learned that I’m damn good at it.

Every year I have the choice to leave and every year I make the choice to stay. I tell myself that it’s because I’m too tired or too lazy to find another job.  And maybe that’s part of it.  But really, I think I WANT to stay.  Because at the end of the day, Collington is home and the people I work with are my family.  Whether it’s the cousin I only see at random family gatherings or the sister I spend most of my days with, we are all a part of each other’s lives whether we want to be or not.

For the most part, we have each other’s backs and no mater what, we are always going to do our best to make each other shine.  We have to.  Because when it comes down to it, all we have is each other.  It’s time to embrace that, to hold hand, walk forward, and do what we can to create the change we want need to see.

In the five years I’ve been at Collington the school hasn’t changed.  We still have the parent issues, and student issues, and administration issues.  The school hasn’t changed, but I have.  And I’m ready to put that change to good use next year.

images

And so we begin

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“I dare you to train for a marathon, and not have it change your life.”  ~Susan Sidoriak

Tomorrow’s the day. The day I take a breath. The day I move on. The day I continue moving forward. The day I put the past behind me.  The day I emerge from the ashes that is my mistakes.  The day I work for what I want. The day I make my plans a reality.

Tomorrow’s the day I begin training for the TCS New York City Marathon.  It’s going to be hard.  It’s going to be rough, on both me and the ones closest to me. It’s going to be life changing and that’s what I’m counting on.

I’m excited and petrified.  I’m ready and not ready. I’m worried and surprisingly calm.  I’m all this and more.  I’m a myriad of emotions I don’t even have words for.

Tomorrow’s the day…the day I become who I was meant to become.

IMG_9737