Perspective; It saved me…
Perspective; It saved me.
^this is an important addition "I am adding this on 2/18/25; Perceptive. I wrote this mere hours before I almost lost my life not only to the physical shell I had become due to not taking care of me, but also due to my own thoughts. It got dark. It got dirty… in more ways than one… It got scary. Ask. For. Help. You are worth it. Also, Medication is necessary. Find a way to get it. Dig into any and ALL resources that may be available to ensure you never run out or can’t afford to get more, because they are saving your life. Lastly, LISTEN TO YOUR BODY. I’m alive. I’m healing physically and mentally slowly but surely, I will not only be alright, I will be thriving soon. I can feel it in my sick, hunched over, barely visibly human, on the verge of no longer existing physically along with being gone mentally already, body, mind and soul. Full story about this entire situation in all the stripped down raw (RAW) details coming eventually… just kidding; soon! -TheMesssyHipppie
You've dug yourself out of deeper holes.
You've been on a bathroom floor like this before.
You were in a deeper hole than you are now.
You've been here before and now look at you.
There is at least $1 in my bank account at the moment. It may even be $2 if you count the literal cents in my savings.
But do you know what.
I was sitting at my divorce hearing, staring at a judge, who was staring back at me, then at the number on my bank statement, then back at me in horror and with genuine fear in his eyes.
The number he was looking at was in the negatives.
That was just 1 year and 7 months ago.
Now, it’s in the GREEN!
I call that a win.
Perspective.
But seriously;
Even Patrick from SpongeBob was thrilled about his $3 and displayed it proudly.
Why shouldn't I do the same with my $2!
Together, Patrick and I could buy one of those $5 Meal Deals on the McDonald's app. Woohoo!
So, although we'd be poor, at least we'd have fully tummies! You really can't beat that in this economy.
Affirmations with self deprecation and humor are how I get through life on planet earth.
And Tiny Hippie hugs.
They are my fuel.
They power my Mighty watch so I can turn into a Mighty Lioness when my family needs me to.
We call them "Tiny Hippie" (but we use her real name) hugs and she LOVES to use them to uplift, soothe and heal her family’s soul.
They are her magic power.
If you've ever had one, you know exactly what I'm talking about.
If you haven't; I'm so sorry; Let me explain it to you.
Close your eyes and imagine if you will, the tiniest of hippies weighing in at, still under 40lbs, at almost 7 years old... 5-point harness for life? Is that a thing? Lol.
A little Car Seat safety humor for ya. ^fun fact about me; I'm a huge advocate for car seat safety and have always wanted to, but never had the time (8-hour class, stay-at-home mom to a military spouse... excuses, excuses, I know, but y'all my life was literally about surviving second by second in those days. An hour class was never feasible for me.)
Sad Panda.
JK
I was just happy with the knowledge I learned from the community of women equally as passionate as I was about this very important topic that I found on Facebook.
Shout out to you CarSeat Safety on Facebook!
Y'all were my North star during my earliest of days as a mother.
The amount of time I spent, disassociating from my life, totally consumed by the posts, the photos, the info cards, the visuals, the pure love the admins had, the knowledge, the structure to be able to pause a post to ensure the person in dire need of assistance is not only seen, but validated in a safe, non-judgmental space. It was all beautifully constructed and incredibly helpful.
The amount of children’s lives you all have saved by ensuring the proper and most up to date, scientifically accurate information was being presented.
I remember you all also made sure there was no misinformation being spread.
If there was, admins put an immediate stop to it and provided the correct, accurate and most up to date information available at the moment.
The number of women, moms, like me, who were just lurkers but were soaking up the information like a sponge. Think about them, us, me.
We were provided the best information in a palpable and quick method.
As a busy, but also; incredibly depressed; incredibly devoted; and incredibly thirsty for all the knowledge to ensure my daughter was being raised to be the strongest, most fierce, independent girl, young woman, woman and possible mother one day, brand new mom at 30 years old, thank you.
Thank you for giving me the knowledge.
I took it and confidently shared it with any and everyone who was even slightly receptive to the information being provided.
Think of the reach you had.
I was a military spouse, in a get me out of this humidity before I melt away into oblivion, state (ironically my home state), who just survived an entire summer pregnant with a baby born at the end of August... I was a Violet turning into a blueberry puffy by the end... it wasn't my best look. Ha-ha., stay-at-home, first-time mom with no real close role model on how to be a mom in my daily life at 30 years old.
I desperately needed guidance and you all were there to provide it to many a quiet lurker such as myself, so thank you from all of us.
Ha. I thought I was doing a great job staying on topic this time...
What can I say,
It's real.
It's raw.
It's messy y'all.
Welcome to the show.
PERSPECTIVE;
That was me yelling at my self to focus on the point.
That word is literally written as the title of this notepad document...
Yes, I use notepad ok.
I can't do fancy.
Even Applebee’s is out of my league right now.
I'm on a $5 Meal Deal budget... pshh... who am I kidding?!
I'm not even THAT bougie right now.
I'm more of a, "Oh I can get a large fry with a large sweet tea for only $2.10?!"
Done.
"Oh, I have enough points to get a FREE, LARGE fry today?!"
HUZZAH!
"Hmmm. $1.29 large fry today?"
Yummy! 5 ketchups please.
I'm only going to use 3 tops, but for some reason, I ALWAYS need to order 5 for a large.
And 3 for a medium.
"You're weird."
I know.
Yeah, so that's the phase in life I find myself at 39.
Now, if you stuck around this long and aren't rolling your eyes at how much I'm complaining about the amount in my account, (brain orgasm. I LURV alliteration.) or pointing out the exact costs of the cheapies I get at McDonald's for lunch when I'm out working;
Here is where the perspective comes in.
I may only have $2 in my bank account at this very moment, (I honestly don't know the exact amount) but I know more is coming tomorrow.
I know I chose a job that I can go out in a few hours and make enough to increase my bank account by at least a dollar or 2 because I bet on me a year and a half go.
I'm incredibly lucky that I've been able to not leave my home for days, except when necessary for hippie kids school activities, and just focus solely on writing. I have a plethora of information, ideas, notes, voice recordings.
Ideas... oh I already said ideas...
But for real... SO many ideas.
So many plot points.
So many topics I want to touch on.
So many stories.
I feel like I've been bottling up a lifetime worth of life experience for this exact moment in my life.
To be able to sit here at 3:13 AM Monday, February 17, 2025, on my couch, in my quiet living room with nothing on but the floor lamp to illuminate my keyboard.
This is what every experience, every person, every move, every event, small or large.
Every milestone.
My children’s milestones.
My heartbreaks... yeah, they’ll be coming... eventually.
GERD YOUR LOINS! Ha.
Just kidding. I’ll be nice… to those who deserve it.
^Breaking 4th wall? Here. There is one specific part of my past. The one I left in May, 2024. The one that left me at my darkest and lowest point in life, almost unable to function as a normal human being… yeah. There are some parts of that story that I simply will never feel comfortable telling. Period. But there are some parts that are important to highlight that have negatively affected my life and will be incredibly difficult to write about so those will not be provided for free.
Those posts will be behind a pay wall for my own safety, sanity and general humanity.
More alliteration.
Happy Dance.
But those stories are tucked away in my brain, only slightly out of reach, until the right time presents itself to process them through my writing.
Moving on;
My tragedies.
In a heavily deep-rooted military town where if you managed to not marry someone in the military, any branch, no matter your gender, it was almost “bless your heart” worthy.
I know, I know.
Big words in the south.
I know.
Trust me.
They apply here. Lol.
This isn't a dig at my hometown at all by the way.
My hometown is like one of my people.
The ones that I can say "negative" things about but no one else can because I'm coming from a place of love.
The people my mama bear comes out for.
The people I will fight to the death for.
That is my personal relationship with my hometown.
It's my roots were first planted. It's where I lived for the first 23 years of my life and again for another 3.5 years right as I was entering the world of motherhood.
Literally, we bought a house in the outskirts of my hometown after getting stationed there again... I won't lie. There were many, many, many tears when I got the news we were going back. I hadn't healed at all from my 23 years there so I wasn't ready to go back but I had to.
I was a military wife.
Hurry up and wait was nothing compared to being told to not only hurry up and wait, but also, put your life on hold constantly, then be told where to go at a moments notice with very little time to process and prepare.
Don't want to go back to the place that houses 98% of your trauma at the time?;
There was way more to come.
Oh, sweet Ashley.
The move back was just the beginning of one of the wildest rides of your life.
Buckle up girlfriend, it's gonna get bumpy.
Oh well.
You are a military wife!
^CAVEAT^ This is MY own personal experience as a military spouse. It does not reflect the opinion, experience or feelings of any other military spouse. It is not meant to invalidate ANYONE’S experience. This is my own personal spin on that time in my life. My opinion only. Military Spouses are my people. I was one for 14.5 years. Nothing but respect, love, hopefully some laughs and some relatability for ya. You are seen. You are valid. You matter. You are allowed to take up space in the world, in your home, in your community. You are allowed to be an individual. Fight to keep that. You are worth it.
You “persevere”!
Sit down, look presentable, have the babies, smile, smile, smile.
<-!-> <-!-> <-!-> <-!-> <-!-> <-!-> <-!-> <-!-> <-!-> <-!->
Do as you are told.
Go where you are told.
You, you as a person.
As a human being.
Yeah, you don't exist anymore.
Welcome, here's your husband’s social security number.
Memorize it.
That is your identity now.
Congratulations!
Best part of all, you'll NEVER be able to forget it! Been separated from that part of my life for 2 years now...
XXX-XX-XXXX
Only X's but in my head, I just rattled off the entire social within seconds.
Once, at a car dealership, they needed to check MY credit as well.
We had a 2-year-old Hippie Princess in tow;
Tiny Princess was strapped nice and snug to my chest in our Boba wrap. Shoutout to the Boba brand,
commissionable link below.
Honestly best one I ever worn.
She was a mere 6 months old.
An even tinier hippie.
We had been at the dealership all dang day.
We were all exhausted and over it.
The sun had set at that point...
I had a strict bedtime routine, schedule and time my kids would be in bed. 7pm. And bedtime routine took an hour. I was stressing.
But the moment the person who needed my info, asked what MY social security number was,
Immediately, without a fraction of a second passing, I was rattling off a number...
I was on auto pilot.
My life, my existence was on auto pilot.
I was looked at by my spouse at the time like I had 10 heads.
I was SO confused.
"What?"
"That's MY social."
"Ooooh." Smile. Smile. Smile.
Giggle, giggle, giggle.
"Military wife. You know how it is. Ha-ha;
“This is mine. XXX, I think, wait."
Looks at spouse, am I saying mine or yours again?
"I think that's yours this time."
Cool. Cool. Cool.
It's XXX-XX-XXXX.
Finally, after 2 years, mine is starting to roll of my tongue more naturally again;
So, even though you never signed that contract, you no longer have autonomy over your own life.
WELCOME!
HUZZAH!
BE PROUD!
Smile, smile, smile.
Smile through it.
Cry in the bathroom. Just hold it in until you can be behind a closed door. Lock out the world and cry. Let it out. It's ok. You are alone and safe.
Just typing that has left tears streaming down my face.
It is 3:50 AM.
I haven't moved in an hour.
I'm comfy though.
I'm wearing my current husbands D&D robe.
It's thinner than mine so I like to wear it when I write.
I'm also wearing the cute and comfy pink slippers my wonderful mother-in-law got me for Christmas so my feet stay warm.
Fun fact about me;
I'm ALWAYS cold.
Ask my husband.
He got me a heated blanket and within weeks of having it, I broke the cord, like legit, sparks flying (real ones, not the Lovey-Dovey ones this time unfortunately) from the cord severing due to me closing that dang recliner.
I hate those couches. These couches.
Yes, even the one I'm currently comfortably sitting on... HMPH.
I'm allowed to feel both disdain and joy when sitting in them.
It's a private beef I have going with them at the moment...
That's a whole tangent I can NOT go on right now.
FOCUS;
To tie up the cord story, after much, much, much digging on the internet, reaching out to the actual company that makes the blanket (It's a more bougie blanket, about a replacement cord and being told they understand it's inconvenient, but they don't sell replacement cords... we found a cord that was the same plug style on eBay and immediately ordered it.
It works perfectly again.
Huzzah.
But also, blanket company.... come on... don't be one of those greedy cooperation’s only obsessed with money. It's not a good look.
PERSPECTIVE;
So, I'm sitting on this couch I have personal beef with, in my warm and cozies, writing.
I should be sleeping.
It is 4:04 AM...
But I'm not ready for sleep.
My brain is still too full.
Ok, get on topic; woman!
So, I can sit here, at this hour in my comfiest of clothes with my laptop open in my lap... ya know, where a laptop usually sits. Typically, they aren't stacked onto D&D books that are stacked onto a popcorn tin in your bathroom. Lol.
With my notepad open;
(One day I will have an authentic, old school type writer with the carrying case and all to write these on, but for now, notepad++ is where it's at.)
Old school, that's my vibe.
Writing.
Writing about my life.
Writing about my family.
Writing about my life experiences.
The good, the bad, the ugly.
The stripped down and raw version.
"RAW!" Hey Shermie. You're my favorite.
I can be exposed but also cautious and careful.
My next moves can be planned, thought out and calculated.
They can be business driven.
Purpose driven.
I can do all of this because I BET on me 2 years ago in late January, 2023.
I BET on me early June, 2023.
I BET on me in April, 2024.
I RESCUED MYSELF in early May, 2024
Caveat ^I had SO much support and help by SO many. I'm forever thankful but I. RESCUED. ME.
I BET on me again in May, 2024.
Then I met my life partner at the end of May, 2024.
May, 2024... how many times can I say May, 2024 before it stops making any logical sense in my brain.
It's gonna be MAY.
Woah, Millennial brain just took over for a second.
FOCUS;
I swear I'm trying to close this out and end it with a pretty bow but my brain is fighting me every step of the way.
Chill brain. Chill.
I need a Tiny Hippie hug. They always ground me.
Those tiny arms wrapped around my neck just right.
The perfect amount of pressure.
The tickle of her long, but incredibly thin, don't you dare lose one strand off that delicate head, she doesn't have enough to spare Bruh, on my nose.
^I want to caveat this with; She has no condition that causes hair loss or anything of that nature, this was just a joke between Shermbot and I about how thin her hair is. We are very delicate with it where as, we can just man handle the double coat hair that is a top Hippie Princesses head. DNA is weird.
My delicate, sensitive, dainty Tiny Hippie.
Those hugs could heal the sick.
I should know, they've healed me a time or two.
Maybe I should wrap it up with, May, 2024, my life changed in more ways than I could have ever imagined.
The moment I stepped off the plane, I knew I was safe.
I knew I was home and working my way back to my new/old/true home and the tiny humans I created, grew, pushed out of me, as well as was surgically ripped open to save the life of, then nourished with my body as well as what modern science could provide, researched like a mad woman, lost all sense of myself for, focused on ALL things poop that involved those tiny humans from birth, (google is not kind. Tread lightly) gave myself anxiety trying to be the “perfect” mom like Kim on Yes, Dear, planned and executed activities to enrich their bodies, minds and soul multiple times a week, all while surviving off of a couple of hours of sleep at a time, so sleep deprived I fell asleep waiting for a bottle to heat up and fell into the counter, again.
Sometimes moms need to take care of themselves first. Sometimes they are so far past living in reality anymore, the only way out they see, leaves her children with no mother.
The Mighty Lioness will never allow that.
She will fight her own self, her own demons, her own thoughts. She will do what feels like the impossible and ask for help from the most likely of people. Putting down her walls long enough to explain the severity of the situation only to be told to go back and try harder.
To not abandon her children.
No. I didn’t know it yet, but that Mighty Lioness was already inside of me.
She was ready to break lose.
Fight anyone in her path.
Put her head down, ignore what others are assuming about her without taking even one second to listen. Listen to her pleas. Listen to her cries.
She’s scared.
She’s out of her element.
She needs to protect the mental wellbeing of everyone involved. EVERYONE involved. Including the person she is trying start a new life away from.
The effort.
The mental gymnastics.
No one will ever hear what I know, from me.
You are strong. You are seen. You are valid. You are heard. I see you. I hear you. My disdain for one has nothing to do with you. You are beautiful and incredible at everything you set your mind to. Everything you’ve accomplished. You are powerful.
She’s putting aside her humility.
She’s admitting defeat.
She’s surrendering while also trying to have an ounce of her own autonomy for once and make her decisions.
She’s asking for help. Please, just pick up. And help.
And now you want to put her back in that spot.
In that headspace. After she asked for neutrality…. Multiple times.
She almost slipped. But then her watch started beeping and it reminded her to Lioness up.
I deserved more but I have to have perspective and know I did THIS on my own. I got HERE by myself. Exactly like I said I would. I can look at my $2 with pride because I EARNED it, it’s mine, I owe nothing else. My debts are clear.
Then I found my Aunt and I could finally breathe.
Well sort of.
I could finally breathe metaphorically because I was home, with one of my favorite humans to ever walk this earth.
But also, physically, it had been almost 2 years since I'd been back in NC with that mess they call humidity.
So, my lungs were taking a minute to catch up and adapt.
Don't worry, by the time I left NC to come back to WI, almost 2 months later, I was down probably 20lbs, the hair that had fallen out so significantly over the last year and 4 months, making it look like I was 2 months post partum again (It had been almost 6 years since I'd given birth...) was growing back fast, healthy and strong. My rosacea cleared up almost completely. That was just my physical appearance.
My mental health by the time I left.
Oh my gosh.
I was on a high of all highs.
I was working a ton, socializing, getting sun on my skin, feeling the summer breeze in a beautiful beach town. I was reconnecting with my family.
I was eating the most delicious food on the planet. Legit y'all. My Aunt's food is like Tiny Hippies hugs... it is magical. It could heal the sick.
Again, I know because it's healed me time and time again from the inside out.
I was falling so deeply in love Shermbot through voice memos, facetime, good morning videos with tapestries blowing over his face.
A bracelet phase I wanted to make into a business (shocker), coloring and sharing stories about my children and their incredible brains.
There was just so much laughter between us. Even with 1,000 miles between us.
I was watching my children develop lasting bonds with my family.
Their family, they hadn't seen in 2 years in person.
Celebrating birthdays I had missed over the years.
Even more laughter and love.
So much love.
So. Much. Freaking. Love.
^I'm putting a pin in this for another post but, if you haven't felt love and acceptance from an authentic, genuinely incredible human that HAS given the clothes off her back, remembers everyone’s likes and dislikes with food (it's a catalog in that brain), will get in on an inside joke with an essential stranger that was sleeping in her home, to poke fun at me. They got me GOOD. Then go find one and just smile at her. She will notice immediately and strike up a conversation with you. It’s your in. A smile.
But also, I hope to be that for you. I hope to be your beacon of light for compassion and human decadency the way she is for me.
So, perspective.
I've been through it.
Money comes and goes.
It's a thing we invented to make our society expand and grow outside of our local communities. It is important, but it is not, and never will be the focal point of anything in my life.
I am happier now, with $2 in my bank account than I ever was with thousands in it.
Perspective.
By the way, I left NC with not only a whole new life, perspective, vision, goal and path forward in life, but also a sort of new appreciation for old photographs... Especially those of strange men with dope mustaches.
Random fact about me, brought to you by:
-The Messy Hippie 🌈✌🏻@4:52 AM Monday, February 17, 2025
