My book is finally done!

It’s done! My book is finally finished awaiting publishing. I’ve been writing it for five years, but only knew that I was writing it for a little over one year. That’s what happens when you journal. My journallings have been a consistent way for me to get my thoughts out of my head. With so many things going on, my head was noisy! I could barely hold a single thought longer than a few seconds, my thoughts would race from one event to another and I couldn’t breathe, let alone sleep. Journalling provided my means of escape.

My book? It’s a good book. It still makes me cry, smile, and laugh. It brings back terrible memories yet provides proof of how amazing my life is now. It shows how a person can climb her way out of chaos and create a life that she loves. It provides proof that life is changeable, no matter your age. If I can do it so can you. It shows determination, fear, love, peace, and hate. It is my first written masterpiece and I’m excited that it’ll finally be published.

I will let you know how to purchase it, hopefully within the next week. It’s terrifying letting my secrets out of my closet for millions to read. Yet it is so freeing, knowing that I can be authentically me. No more hiding, no more lies, just me. Thank you for being a sounding board as I struggled to find my way to air. May you, my readers, be blessed beyond your wildest dreams.

thank you for reading,



Perfect Life Picture

Still unemployed, almost done with my board exams, I’m wondering what a picture of the ‘perfect life’ would look like. The picture perfect life? Hmmm… I already love my life but what could make it perfect?

The physical things: a running car that doesn’t need fixing, maybe a sporty one with excellent gas mileage? A house that is clean with plenty of room to play? A yard that is cut? Physical comforts such as air conditioning, heating, and running water? Maybe also have my house fixed up like new, with no holes in the siding and wallpaper that isn’t thirty years old?

The me things: the things that keep me healthy? A slim waist, muscular body? Maybe another six inches taller? Hair that doesn’t gray, and free haircuts? A massage every week? Or, even better, a massage twice a week? The ability to see my dentist, eye doctor, or regular doctor whenever I need to without fear of money or health?

The other things: my kids visiting frequently because they actually want to be near me. My pets groomed, clean, and up to date on all of their health things. My friends and family feeling welcome at all times, knowing they mean the world to me?

There’s so many ‘things’ that a picture perfect life would have, but the only thing that matters is the things that we do not the things that we have. The helping a child learn to swim, or feeding a family who has no funds. Putting ourselves out there so others can learn from our mistakes, not having to repeat them themselves.

I want a picture perfect life, and I think I might already have it. It’s the little things that make the difference isn’t it? A job, though? I’ll need one of those as soon as possible.

thanks for reading,


Introducing Me

Now that I’ve run this blog for several years and now that I am now free from a lot of stuff… and now that I’ve graduated… and now that I have a book that’s almost ready to be published… I guess it’s time to out myself. My name is Wendi. I’m a 45 year old woman who loves hard and cries hard. Life is short and I’m done hiding.

This was taken at my graduation pary. I was ‘hatted’ and ‘laid’ when I walked in the door.

There are a lot of things that I regret in my past, and if you want to know it just read my posts. But, those things are only one side of who I am. The other side of me, the sensitive, forgiving, loving side; the part of me that I actually like, that part wouldn’t be there if it weren’t for the ugly parts. My life has been shaped, molded, over all of these years into who I am today. I like who I am today, so why would I give up on that. Some days it’s harder to forgive than others, but I’ve learned to love myself. I’ve learned to be gentle with myself, as well as with others. Being gentle makes all the difference. Life is about the little things, always the little things. So be kind to yourself today, let yourself breathe, let yourself stop for a moment and be still. Love yourself, you deserve it too.

thank you for reading,


Finding my Voice – an excerpt from my book

I have this weekend off, I had wanted to go to my boat to be still and to have quiet, but that just didn’t happen. I’m glad I stayed home; it has allowed me to work on my book some more. My book, it’s ‘finished’ but needs a lot of editing. Editing is difficult, though. I’m reminded, as I read, of where I was and who I’ve been in my past. My past no longer defines me. It’s weird reading what I’ve written. I often say that my book wrote itself. It had to be written, I had no choice but to continue typing hour after hour. When I reread it I don’t recognize myself, yet I do. I’m more than I was, stronger, and more confident. I wrote a short journal entry that I’ve included in my book, on finding my voice. Discovering, and not hiding, who I truly am. Here is a little excerpt:

“Journal entry – my voice

I’ve been looking for my voice. I have been trying to find who I really am. I have been quiet so long, too long. What is my voice? Who am I?

My voice carries when I have love and when I have anger. My voice provides for me a way to express myself. My voice is in my writing although I never noticed it before. I didn’t notice it was gone, I was only lonely and depressed. When it does shine through, it is not a bad voice. My voice is able to chastise or to love. My voice can bring people together if I let it. If I can learn to speak again then I can heal. If I can heal then I can begin to let others heal. How did this happen? What changed? Just a week ago, less really, I wondered why I even lived. Each night I wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. Each morning I was disappointed that I awoke. How did I decide to live? I’ve let my opinion be known on a couple of important things. I have realized that by letting myself speak, by preventing my silence from continuing, that I have reengaged a part of myself that has had no voice for so long. Let myself speak, speak for those I love. Give voice to those who have none. This is what I have begun to do. Give voice to those who are too scared to speak for themselves. Love others. Love me. Does finding my voice mean I no longer hurt? No. If anything, it hurts worse. Now I am willing to admit the pain.”

So, yeah, I am still finding my voice. It grows stronger daily. Have you found your voice? Or do you hide who you are meant to be?

thank you for reading,


Almost there

It’s the middle of March. March?! I have only one more rotation until Graduation Day! Wow. These past several years have been a roller coaster ride, the least of which was school. Six or so years ago I heard a question, “what will your life be like in five years?” The answer was obvious, extremely obvious. The answer was ‘exactly as it is now but we’ll all be older and probably broker.’

The rule is that if you don’t change then nothing will change. If you think that ‘someday’ you’re going to be OK, or that ‘someday’ you’ll go on that dream vacation… you’re probably wrong. Plans without timelines just don’t happen. Years fly by in a trance and one day you wake up and wonder what on earth happened.

Do you wake up and realize you’ve just spent every day of the last ten years watching two, or more, hours of TV? Did you spend each of those days sleeping in? Or on Facebook? I haven’t done the math but let’s see… two hours a day for 365 days for 10 years….that’s 7300 hours or 304 days spent in front of the TV. That’s almost a year of life that could have been lived. I’m not trying to say not to watch TV, I’m saying is that every thing we do is a trade. Time waits for no one and nothing and it is the same for everyone. How we choose to use it is the only thing we can do.

What could you accomplish in just 2 hours a day? Read some new books? Go for more walks? Spend more time with your family? Learn a new language, start a new career? Two hours seem insignificant until you add it up. I’ve learned these past few years that it’s the small things that make all of the difference. It’s not just that it’s the small things, it’s that it is ONLY the small things that make the difference. Life is lived in the seconds, minutes and hours that then build our days, weeks, months and years.

Five years ago, all I could imagine is that there was something better. I could see others were happy and able to pay their bills. I could see they weren’t any different from me, just people. We’re all just people. As time has progressed, I’ve discovered that there are so many people stuck where I was, stuck in ‘this is my life, guess I should get used to it’ mentality. They’ve decided at 25 or 30, 50 or 70 years of age that their life is essentially over and not going to get any better. They’ve settled.

I say don’t settle. Don’t give up. Go ahead and remember to live your life now, not tomorrow, not next month or next year. Now. Life is short, embrace it. It’s supposed to be a roller coaster ride. Enjoy the ride!

thank you for reading,


The AA Meeting

One of the things I was required to do on my psych rotation was attend an AA meeting. I was a little nervous going out to another town and then walking into a meeting for those who have addiction problems. I have luckily never had an addiction to anything. Addiction does run in my family some but it hasn’t actually touched me.

It felt a little odd, like I didn’t belong, yet I wanted to be there and wanted to understand things better. Over the past month I’ve met many people with serious addictions. People who have been turned upside down and inside out because of a chemical they can’t keep away from. They’re doing their best and it’s hard. I want to understand them better so that I can be a better pharmacist. I want to be able to show them compassion and not judgement. How can I without having been through what they’ve been through? I can help other women well enough, I’ve had my share of problems with abuse and rape, but drugs? Alcohol? Smoking? No. Not me. So, I went to the meeting willingly.

Another student and I met a strange man who then walked us to the back of a large church. (That was weird in itself.) Then we went inside and waited for the session to start. I was impressed. There were definite principles that they made certain everyone knew, things like privacy and forgiveness and honesty. All are good things. The meeting began and everyone introduced themselves. There were mostly men but there were a few women in the mix. The ages ranged from early twenties to later in age. Some of them didn’t look like they wanted to be there and some of them were happy to be there.

The topic for the night was honesty. A gentleman spoke for a bit about how being honest wasn’t natural to him and how he had to change things up so that he could get well. He allowed himself to be vulnerable and in the process opened up a space for others to speak from their hearts. I’m not used to seeing men be vulnerable and honest. I was surprised how much they had to say and how they really didn’t hold a lot back. It was definitely not the normal way that I see people interact, let alone men. At the end of the meeting they offered special coins as recognition to starting over or being sober for a month or longer. Very few people picked up coins while we were there but there was one gentleman who picked up the starting over coin. He bravely stood up and crossed the room to retrieve it and with it received a hug and a huge applause. Thinking of him brings tears to my eyes, knowing (yet not completely) that he’s set himself up on a journey that will try to wrestle him down. I know that he will likely fail again and again and will have to keep getting back up. I know that he’ll have to face his demons in order to push them aside. I can understand that part. Demons have a way of attaching on to you when your down and making you believe you have no worth. I hope he has the support he needs to fight them off.

As a pharmacist in training I know I will have people like him coming into my life time and time again. I hope that they find in me a listening ear and an open heart when they need it. I know life can be tough. If I can make it easier on someone like him then I’ve done well enough.

thanks for reading,


Love. How Do I Protect Myself?

Love? Is that what it is? I’m not blind. I can see clearly. I can see your pain and it hurts me. I can see your fear and I become fearful. I pushed you away because I cannot handle it. Your fear, pain, and disappointment. Your hopelessness and your trauma. I can not be with you longer than a few minutes before you rub off on me. How can I help you to see the beauty and the miracles that surround us both? How can I help you to appreciate the small things in life? I don’t know how. Not yet. And so I distance myself. I am unable to handle so much negative emotion and so I leave you. Am I a failure for that? Am I wrong for leaving you in your hell so that I can climb out of mine?

As much as I hate my ex, I’m not blind to who he really is. All of my efforts to make things right, all of my efforts to fix the evils in that house were useless. I had to leave, he has to hit bottom before he will ever grow. We all do. I still see him as hurt and lost. I don’t think he sees it, though, and there’s nothing I can do about it. My time with him is over, he’s going to have to find someone else to help, or learn to help himself like I did.

I read. I read a lot. I read books on philosophy, on love, on dreams, and on money. I am in a constant state of learning, and because of this I am growing.

But it’s not just him, that I see. I see the stories behind the story. I see the angry old man and know that things were different when he was a child. I see the depressed woman and know that she once had dreams but now she’s given up on them all. I see the couple in debt who is afraid to dream for fear their dreams will never come true. I see the bedridden lady who refuses to become healthy because this is how she receives attention and she thinks if she weren’t ill that no one would love her. I see these. I also see the teen, who in her passion became pregnant. I know her fear and her embarrassment. I know what it’s like and how tragic life can become. I want to protect them all, I want to love them and to help them. But how? It hurts to allow their energy into my soul.

How can I protect myself from these? I isolate myself, pushing others away so that I can breathe. I run away to the water, to my boat, so that their energy does not reach me. Yet? As I take time to breathe, I cry. I let out my emotions so that they don’t control me. I let myself see God’s beauty in nature so that I can continue to see the beauty in those like these. For all are beautiful in their own way, yes all, even my ex. I love them and it hurts and so I take time for me.

thank you for reading,