Back in the Swing of things

Seems every time I write a blog I end up apologizing for it being so long in-between updates. I guess I keep thinking I'm going to get motivated and start writing all the time only to find something else has me distracted.

My last blog was sort of an unfinished bio of my discovery of derby. I'm not going to use this blog to give you a play by play on everything that has happened to me since I started skating again but I will catch you up a little and tell you what I'm doing now.

I tried out for Fresh Meat in December. I went in not expecting anything. I was just excited to be there. I just wanted the experience. And I had a few friends trying our for the 2nd/3rd time and I really wanted all of them to make it far more than I cared if I made it myself or not.

Not to go too much into detail by try outs are pretty easy. There is a slow place line followed up by some really basic knee fall, jump and stopping drills. Nothing very scary at all. Regardless, I was nervous as hell.I thought I performed pretty decently and after we completed all the drill we all went to the Buffalo Gap the await the results.

They call each person individually within a few hours of try outs to let them know if they made it or not. I was one of the 1st to get a call. I didn't make it. At 1st I was fine with it. But as the night went on and more and more girls got their calls it started to feel like I was the only one that didn't get in. Sure, the 1st few girls that got a yes were a given. They were great skaters. We all knew they'd make it. But then girls that I had really though I was on par with started making it and that was only a little disconcerting but finally girls that I really though I was a little bit better than started making it and I just sort of fell apart.

I drove home in tears. Not just cute girl tears but ugly cry tears. I sobbed like I was 16 and my prom date had stood me up for the class whore. I felt terrible because I wanted to be happy for my friends that made it but I was just tore up because I thought I was better than this. It made me question myself. Am I any good at all? Can I even skate? Should I give up now?

The one thing I can say is I don't know that I truly realized how much I wanted to play derby until I didn't make fresh meat. If I hurt as bad as I did not making it I must really love it.

So since then I tore my rotator cuff. It's healing pretty well now but it's taken a couple of months. I've taken on a few Admin duties with the Wreckers. I got me some outdoor wheels and spent some time skating outside. I can't wait for summer when I can skate outside all the time. Mostly I've just tried to skate a lot and get better and get ready for try outs in May. Maybe I'll make fresh meat for my 31st birthday

Dreams of Derby Glory

I officially started taking steps to becoming a lady of Roller Derby at the end of April of this year. That was the 1st time I put on quad skates since I was a little girl. Now don't let my opening statement fool you. I may be new to quads but I've been skating a long time.

One of my earliest memories is of ice skating. I must have been about 4 or 5 years old. I remember skating out onto the ice and they gave me a big orange cone to stabilize myself with as I made my way out to the middle of the rink. As you can imagine, if I could use a hazard cone as a walking stick, I was pretty little. For years after that I took ice skating lessons. I can't say I was ever very good, well at least at the figure skating part. I mostly liked to go real fast and shuck and jive through the other skaters.

Outside of the rink I fell in love with inline skating. I got my 1st pair when I was probably 9 or so. My sister and I had matching roller blades. Hell, my mom even got herself a pair. We skated everywhere we went. I'd often pull on my blades the moment I got home from school and I'd take a trip around the neighborhood just to clear my mind. In fact I was wearing a pair of blades the 1st time I kissed a boy. He was a jerk and a terrible kisser, but that's a story for another day.

I can't say I skated much in high school. Well, skateboarding was all the rage then and I tried my damnedest to get good at that but I just ended up breaking a few bones before I decided I wasn't meant to be a Skateboarder. For my 20th Birthday some friends got together and bought me a shinny new pair of Rollerblades. I started to get back into the sport but I didn't have anyone who ever wanted to go with me and sadly, my blades started to gather dust in my closet.

In early 2008, I had just moved home to Southern Oregon, my husband and I went to a local derby game at the Medford Rink. I really didn't know what to expect but the moment the 1st jam started, I was in love. I kept thinking, OMG this is amazing! I could totally do this! Why am I not doing this?!

Well the truth is I wasn't doing it because I didn't have any health insurance and I sure as hell wasn't going to put myself in harms way without it. So I didn't sign up and after that my life sort of exploded into chaos and my dreams of derby glory sank into the background.

Fast-forward one year later. I'd moved up to Portland. My husband decided to join me there. We'd found a nice place, I got a stable job and... Health insurance!

So, one afternoon I wandered over to my Friend Kerry's house and she tells me how she'd taken her God Daughter Skating at Oaks Park that afternoon. Apparently they'd run into some derby girls there and Kerry was thinking we needed to sign up. So we headed down to Oak's Park and started taking beginning skate classes on Saturday mornings...

Tears of a Clown

I know I haven’t updated in a really long time and if you’re one of the handful of people in the universe following my blog, I apologize. I have no real excuse. I’ve been busy but I’m always busy. That’s nothing new. I’m returning to the land of Blog now because I just have some things I need to get off my chest and I don’t know of another place to do it. I supposed I could write it all down in a diary if I need to vent but there is something about a public forum that makes it feel like someone might just be listening and empathizing with my plight.

I’ve never been depressed in my life. Not to say that I haven’t been sad or there haven’t been times when I was less happy but I’ve never understood the heavy sighs, gaunt faces and tired eyes of the depression sufferers in anti-depressant commercials. I’d have thought it was some kinda of melodramatic overstatement if I hadn’t also seen these things exhibited on my husband time and time again.

Growing up, my mother set a tone that a strong woman didn’t show her pain to the world. She suffered silently and to herself. She put on a brave face for her family and loved ones and never faltered. Not to say that my mother is a woman without emotion. She has always lavished affection on my sister and myself and is one of the kindest, thoughtful, most loving people I know. She simply feels that her role as a wife and mother is that of a rock in times of adversity. She believes that it just doesn’t do anyone any good to sit around crying about it.

This is how I was raised and how I have lived my life to date. Of course I grew up in the 80’s and not the 50’s so I’ve learned to wear quite a few more emotions on my sleeve than my mother would ever find acceptable for herself but at the end of the day, neither of us understand the concept of depression because it is just not something we have time for. Perhaps that sounds a little more snarky than I truly mean it. I understand that depression sufferers are afflicted with an emotional disease that they have little control over but there is a part of me that, on an emotional level, just sees weakness. I hate that I feel that way. I want to be more empathetic but I just can’t understand how people are able to burry themselves so deep in misery.

I believe my husband has been suffering from depression for most of his adult life. In fact I think his depression may have started at a surprisingly young age, so young in that it is a physiological part of him that is nearly impossible to dissect from the actually person. I believe he’s been depressed for so long that he honestly has little to no idea what real happiness is.

I've spent a majority of our nearly 9 years together doing everything I can think Of to make him happy. While there were brief periods of time where his smile was around more than his frown, they were always fleeting and in the end he was always the same sad boy I'd met nearly a decade ago.

Now I'm nothing if I'm not stubborn and I hate to loose so I've fought tooth and nail to pull him out of this funk. I've thrown everything but the kitchen sink at our relationship and I've run out of ideas. He did finally agree to see a therapist a few months ago and I think she has helped to awaken in him a desire to find happiness and to know what it is to shrug off the binds of depression but how close he's actually gotten to making any real progress is hard to say.

I feel like the worlds biggest asshole because I'm angry. I'm angry that my husband is still broken and that the world made him that way to begin with. I'm angry with him for not being strong enough to simply beat his depression into submission. I'm angry that I am helpless to do anything for the one person I love the most in this world. I feel like I've failed him and I just don't know what else to do.

Lovely

I found this online today. I just loved it so much I had to share.

Hole in my Chest (lyrics I think)

There’s a little hole in my chest,
And I need you to fill it
I don’t care what you use
There’s some glue in the cabinet

There’s a space in my heart,
And it shouldn’t be open
It’s spilling all over
It’s becoming a habit

You are all I need,
You hold the keys
I’d give you a ring,
If it matted but it don’t

There’s a lock on my lips,
And I need you to break it,
I don’t care what comes out
These secrets are tearing at me

There’s a knot in my stomach
And it seems to be growing,
It’s doubling me over
It’s getting worse and worse

You’re all I need
You hold all the keys
I’d give you a ring
If it mattered but it don’t

Baby

This morning I had a message from my friend Dylan on facebook. She lives in San Diego and I don’t get to see her much but she is one awesome chica and I am always happy to hear from her. She tells me that she and her husband are going to have a baby! She is 16 weeks along and couldn’t be happier. When I read her message I gasped, literally gasped, out loud. I was just so excited and thrilled for her. After I gasped and did my own personal happy dance it dawned on me that I had never been this elated to learn that anyone was pregnant before. Why was I so excited for Dylan?

I think Part of it is that she is about the 1st of my friends to get pregnant that is happily married (for several years now), at least somewhat financially ready for a baby and she planned it. It was just perfect. The way babies are supposed to be made. The 2nd part is I am so envious of her I can hardly believe it. I’m ready to be a mom. I want my own little monkey. I’m about 6 months away from 30, I’ve been married for 7 years. It’s my turn damn it!

Ok, yes, my marriage has been a little rocky for the past year and no Brian (my husband) isn’t working right now so the timing isn’t exactly perfect but Brian has been growing as a person in leaps and bounds lately and I’m really very proud of the man he is becoming. I feel closer to him than I have in a long time and it feels good, real good. I have very few doubts about Brian as a father. He has a kind heart and kids love him. I know it’s not the same but he treats our kitties like they’re his babies (you know with snuggles and kisses) I can only imagine how adorable and sweet he’d be with a real baby.

I know I’ve said in the past that I wanted to wait until I was 32 to have kids but that was mostly because that was about the same time my mom had me. I’ve spent a lot of my adult life trying to model what I do after what my mom did and it hasn’t always been the best thing for me. I really think it’s time I took a step in my own direction and started living my own life.

I are poet

I love you. I whisper
drunk on nostalgic wine
but the words sound antiquated
we’ve run out of time.

Lay with me, hold me
Let me feel your touch
My hands are cold
My lips are lonely
I’ve already lost so much

If I fall, will you catch me
If I cry, will you wipe my tears
If I go, will you miss me
Or will our love just disappear