Wanderlust

“Travel and tell no one, live happily and tell no one, people ruin beautiful things.”

[ameliac27]

Not sure if this is a feminist rant, military wife rant, or just a WTF rant

Three and a half years ago my husband (then boyfriend) joined the military. In the time that he was gone between the months of March and September I traveled Europe and came home to the town we fell in love with each other in, only this time, when I came home I had one friend and no support system. I spent my time with people that didn’t respect me or my relationship. I made decisions I regret every single day, I was taken advantage of, and tried to take my own life.

Between the months of October and February my support system got a little stronger living with my parents- but I didn’t feel like anyone understood what I was going through or feeling or battling with inside. I still made choices I regret every single day, and often contemplated if everyone would hurt less if I was gone from the earth.

Luckily, we made it through, and I’ve struggled with suicidal thoughts continuously because for the last 2 and a half years my only true support system has been my husband. We live 3000 miles away from our family. A $700, 8 hour flight away from family.

Now happily married my husband wants to go back to his training. His training that is 3000 miles away from the home we’ve created. His training that could be 3000 miles away from me. So I said no, I said “I will do everything in my power to be where he is for this training, even if it means seeing him only on weekends” and you know what my mother, my MOTHER, said to me?

“Will that distract him from his training”

I think it’s a wtf rant because WHAT THE FUCK. Absolutely no support, or assurance that this is what is best for my mental health. For my well being. For my LIFE.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I say what the fuck so passionately because in no shape,way, or form does my mom not value my life. She is my best friend. She is the reason I’m alive. But for whatever reason; society, blocking bad memories, stigma around suicide... her first thought is “will my daughter distract my son in law from achieving his dream job with her emotions”

WTF.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

September 30, 2019

[ameliac27]

September

Smartphones, apps, 21st century technology has brought a strange situation about with mental health. It brings light to the subject, crushing stigmas; while it also pushes so many of us to self diagnos and be overcome with feelings of a mental illness. When previously, it was just life.

This social media conflict has also brought a new element into my life that often makes me wonder how much happier, how much different, my life would be if it simply did not exist.

(Because no, I do not have the desire or will power, or self control to remove myself from social media)

As I pull up my Pinterest it is littered with the word “cozy”, “sweater”, “warm cider” and photos and artwork of autum leaves and the bliss that fall brings. I open Instagram and my alma mater, favorite ski resort, and best friends are preparing their day for beer a chili and vinotok. My Facebook is filled with back to school photos, posts about the weather that fall brings in “its officially wear a sweater in the morning and have a heat stroke by 1:00 pm weather” and my timehop graces me every day with twitter thoughts and Facebook posts from 4 & 5 years ago abou about back to school shenanigans, friends, and falling in love with my (now) husband during this time of year.

September has always “given me life” it brings me excitement for the new adventures winter will bring, the never the same fall color drives. The last camping trip of summer. September gave me a gentle goodbye to my summer memories and a welcoming hello of my favorite season. It gave me peaches, and candles, sweaters and sunshine. It gave me turning on the heat for the first time, or not dressing warm enough. It gave me a whole new wardrobe and a crisp fresh feeling.

But September in Hawaii— offers me none of this. This is the third year of my life I am consumed in my Pinterest, instagram, Facebook, and timehop indulging myself in the nostalgia of last September’s longing for their comfort feeling anxious and nervous if I will ever feel her embrace again.

Of course I will. But right now, it is completely out of my reach.

So I spend each September day, sweating, feeling heavy and dirty from the humid polluted air of the island. I spend each morning waking up to dew on the window being teased that the temperature will continue to drop with each day just like it does at home. I spend each night confused if I should be having a cold corona... or fixing hot cocoa.

My will power has been lost to me. I don’t have the mental capacity to fight with my reality and my “attitude” about reality. I don’t have mental ability to pretend all these things can be brought to me here in my sweet Hawaiian home.

Now, I spend my September feeling guilty, anxious, nostalgic, and jealous. Longing for the crisp, refreshing feeling of September in Colorado.

[sosuperawesome]

Maria Ballarin on Instagram

Follow So Super Awesome on Instagram

[thelovejournals]

“Flirtation doesn’t have to go somewhere; it certainly doesn’t need to end up in bed. I like to think of it as a little friendlier than a handshake, a little less intimate than a kiss. It’s a way of saying hi, you look great, have a wonderful day. A tasteful flirtation, played out people who understand the rules, leave everyone feeling good and can perk up the bluest mood.”

— Karen Marie Moning

[danger]

[thoughtkick]

“To get over the past you first have to accept that the past is over. No matter how many times you revisit it, analyze it, regret it, or sweat it… it’s over. It can hurt you no more.”

— Mandy Hale (via thoughtkick)

[feminissues-blog]

[thelovejournals]

“The human heart beats approximately 4,000 times per hour and each pulse, each throb, each palpitation is a trophy engraved with the words ‘you are still alive.’ You are still alive. Act like it.”

— Rudy Francisco (via wnq-anonymous)

[mckaelaryan]

“Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can’t go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does.”

— The Penelopiad by Margaret Atwood | @wnq-quotes (via wnq-writers)

[ameliac27]

She put it into words 😶

[worshipgifs]

[delta-breezes]

[thelovejournals]

It’s not just a feeling—it’s an emotion that causes action

It is time to change the meaning of the word 

“love.”

The word is mostly used according to the first definition given in the dictionary: 

“an intense feeling of deep affection.” 

In other words, love is what one feels.

After years spent speaking with couples before, during and after marriage; and of talking to parents and children struggling with their relationships, I am convinced of the partiality of the definition. 

Love should be seen not as a feeling but as an enacted emotion. To love is to feel and act lovingly.

Too many women have told me, bruises visible on their faces, that the husbands who struck them love them. Since they see love as a feeling, the word hides the truth, which is that you do not love someone whom you repeatedly beat and abuse. You may have very strong feelings about them, you may even believe you cannot live without them, but you do not love them.

The first love mentioned in the Bible is not romantic love, but parental love (Genesis 22). When a child is born, the parent’s reaction to this person, who so recently did not exist, is to feel that 

“I would do anything for her.” 

In the doing is the love—the feeling is enacted. That is why we often hear the phrase 

“you don’t act like you love me.” 

We know in our bones that love is not a feeling alone, but a feeling that flows into the world in action.

Between human beings, love is a relational word. Yes, you can love things that do not love you back—the sky or a mountain or a painting or the game of chess. But the love of other people is directional. There is a lover and a beloved—you don’t just love, but you love at someone. And real love is not only about the feelings of the lover; it is not egotism. It is when one person believes in another person and shows it.

In Fiddler on the Roof, when Tevye asks Golde whether she loves him after a quarter century of marriage, her wry answer is exactly on point:

For twenty-five years I’ve washed your clothes Cooked your meals, cleaned the house Given you children, milked your cow She asks then, 

“If that’s not love, what is?”

Of course it is possible to perform all sorts of duties for someone and feel little or nothing for them. 

Love is not about being hired help. Love is not an obligation done with a cold soul. But neither is it a passion that expresses itself in cruelty, or one that does not express itself at all. The feeling must be wedded to the deed.

We would have a healthier conception of love if we understood that love, like parenting or friendship, is a feeling that expresses itself in action. What we really feel is reflected in what we do. 

The poet’s song is dazzling and the passion powerful, but the deepest beauty of love is how it changes lives.

via David Wolpe

(via thelovejournals)

[perrfectly]

You will fall in love with your friends. Deep, passionate love. You will create a second family with them, a kind of tribe that makes you feel less vulnerable. Sometimes our families can’t love us all the time. Sometimes we’re born into families who don’t know how to love us properly. They do as much as they can but the rest is up to our friends. They can love you all the time, without judgement. At least the good ones can.

Ryan O’Connell (via perrfectly)

[dharmarainbow]

The greatest influence in your life, stronger even than your will power, is your environment. Change that, if necessary.

Paramahansa Yogananda (via dharmarainbow)

[artsnculture]

[digitalintimacy-deactivated2018]

my mom might’ve raised an emotionally vacant child with severe depression and anxiety but she didn’t raise a quitter