Hope For The Hopeless.

Hopelessness is a feeling that I have been struggling with these last few weeks.  Not just in my own life, but in the lives of the people around me.


I feel hopeless on how to deal with people from back home, I am not physically able to be there for them, I can't be that shoulder to lean on.

I feel hopeless when I wake up every morning and face the reality of the hard day ahead of me.

I feel hopeless on what I'm surrounded by everyday, whether that be cruel group mates, overly-flirtatious classmates, or empty friendships.

I feel hopeless when all I want to do is call that one person, and I'm not able to contact them.



The pastor, at the church I attend here in Kentucky, said something, this past Sunday, that gave me a little perspective.

"There are no hopeless situations; there are only people who have grown hopeless about them."

And he is absolutely right.  I have given up on this quarter, and that only makes it worse.

Now here is where I should put this inspirational message about how I found myself looking for the good in my day.  But I'm being honest.  This week has been really hard.  I have come home every day and have just broken down.  I've cried because of exhaustion, frustration, loneliness, or just because that's the only way to express how I feel.  I can not attribute it to any one thing, but just the weight of it all.  And I know I am not the only one who is having this issue, it may not be all of the same causes, but we all go through this all some point in time.  It seems endless.

I'm going to be motivational for a moment and say it does end.  I haven't hit the end of it yet.  I'm still in the thick of it all, but one day, maybe tomorrow, maybe Saturday, maybe in a month it will be better.

Until then, I keep having to remind myself that no matter how lost, overwhelmed, or alone I feel, God is always there.  Making my day better in ways I don't always appreciate.

I'm not able to call my best friend or my boyfriend right now, which is hard, but He gave me my mother.  Who has been wonderfully understanding over the last few days, letting me cry, on the phone with her, for hours.

I am surrounded by people in school who try and destroy things that I have worked hard for, and one person who shows me unwanted attention.  God gave me a caring and understanding chef, who watches out for me and has my best interest at heart.

So I'm not hopeful right now.  But I can not be completely hopeless when I have God.

As Psalm 62: 5 says;

"Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him."

And Isaiah 46: 4;

"Even to your old age and gray hairs; I am he, I am he who will sustain you.
I have made you and I will carry you;  I will sustain you and I will rescue you."

My hope will come back to full strength some day, and He will sustain me until then, rescue me if I fall, and carry me when I just can't go on anymore.  So I do not have to be okay right now, or tomorrow, or everyday.  I just have to be okay in the knowledge that He is here and He is watching out for me when I am too tired to do it for myself.

And He can (and will) do that for you.

So let God be your hope when you are hopeless.

Time For A Change.

So as many of you can see, this blog has changed quite a bit.  New look for the (almost) new year.  I started this blog back in January and I have been playing with the style of it since then... and over the last two or three days, I haven't had much to do, so I went a little crazy.  Got a whole new look.  Personally I like it better, but then again I'm not the one who has to read it!  Let me know what you guys think!

In other news, I'm back at college.  You should see my face, I just can't stop smiling, I love it here.

Yeah, I'm a horrible lair.  

I've been back for a little over a week and will be going back home on Christmas break in four days.  Now that is a reason to smile.  Plans are being made for Christmas parties, caroling, and family get-together.  I'm very excited!

But this will be a difficult year in many ways.  

• This is the first Christmas without my Grandma Betty.  She's been such a fixture for so long it's going to be strange not to have her with us.  
• This is the first year without Riley, yet another fixture in our home, gone.  
• First Christmas with little Piper.  
• First year I have to actually GO somewhere for Christmas.  
• First year of not being home to pick out the Christmas tree and put up decorations in my room. 
• First Christmas I get to spend with my friends! 

A mixture of both good, bad, and hard.  Tears will be shed this year, both happy and sad.  But I am looking forward to it all.  Looking forward to seeing everyone again, to spending time with my family and friends.  It will be a good three weeks.  Now I just have to get through finals... Ugh.

Grandma Betty.

Thirteen Years.

Thirteen days ago, I lost my friend of thirteen years.  Riley has been in my life since I was five years old.  Since the day my dad came home with this little black blob in a card board box.  When he arrived I did not realize how much he would wind up meaning to me, this little mutt, a jumbled up and confused mess of a dog.

This is just part of a thirteen year story, the story of my Riley.

Silly boy isn't looking at the camera, but he's still cute.

In the fall of 2000, it was just my family and me.  Two parents, two brothers, and Lauren.  Our previous family dog, Molly, had passed away earlier that year and we had no plans to get a new one.  At least Mom had no plans for another dog.  My father had other plans, one day he came back from work at his usual time, carrying a cardboard box.  I was in the living room, playing with my brother, when Dad called me into the kitchen.  I remember not wanting to go, the blocks we were playing with were far to interesting.  But I did what I was told.  My dad was beaming by the door and pointed to a box next to the refrigerator, a black towel was balled up in the corner.  Then the black towel blinked.  A PUPPY!  We got a puppy!  Mom wouldn't let me pet him right away, saying we to wait until he was less scared.  So I sat four feet from the box and waited.  Waited to pet my best friend for the first time.

Oh, that hair!  Morning cuddles with Riley. 

Riley fit in perfectly, he was very sweet with my brothers and me.  Shared his food, his toys, and his teeth (he had a thing for biting toes).  He followed us kids around all day, tiring all four of us out.  But from a very young age we notices him avoiding stairs, and having a hard time jumping up on the bed or couch.  Cue the dachshund in him, his front legs were shorter then his back legs and they were curved inwards. Causing him to have arthritis at about a year old. Did that stop him?  Nope.  He ran and romped and played as much as any other puppy. And every year on Christmas he ran away.  Ever year for about six or so years.  Silly boy.

Oh these people!

Snow Puppy!

Riley romped and played for thirteen years, he went to doggy summer camp one year with his friend Tori.  He won all the awards.  He treed too many squirrel to count, and even one cat!  Got to ride in the car to go to the beauty shop, went to Grandpa's, and woke the kids up for school.  He was a busy, happy boy for most of his life.

Our "water" dog.

Tessa, Riley, and myself.  Fall of 2011.

Towards the beginning of 2013, it hit me, Riley wasn't going to live forever.  Even though it seemed like he would.  I mean the dog shouldn't have lasted six months with his daredevil attitude and messed up body, but he lasted thirteen plus years.  A good thirteen years.  I saw him for the last time on September 18th.  As I said my quick goodbyes, running out the door to move to college, it didn't really hit me I wouldn't see him again.  Does anyone ever really think that?  The idea may be in your head, but you don't truly believe it.  "Prepare yourself, he may not be here at Thanksgiving."  I was told that.  I knew that.  But I didn't believe that.  Not really.  Not even now.

This is one of my favorites of him.

As he grew older, we grew up.  He was there to play tug of war, he was there to scare away the squirrels, he was there to bark at that nasty vacuum.  He was there whenever I needed him, even when I didn't realize I needed him.  I wasn't there when he got sick, I wasn't there when we had to put him down, I wasn't there to say goodbye.  This is my goodbye, I guess.  My goodbye from 358 miles away.  My goodbye, because I didn't want to admit it before now.  Riley is gone now.  He lives now just in my memories and in the photos on my wall.  Thirteen years of memories, scars, tears, kisses, rope toys, and treats.  Thirteen years of wonderful Riley McDuffy Wolfgang.  

I Miss My Dog.

I've realized what's so odd here.  That nagging thing that has been bothering me for the last few weeks, but that I could never really identify.  I miss my dog.  And I know that's something that I knew before, but it's truly something odd for me.  Not having a dog in the room with me, not having another living, breathing mammal to talk too or just enjoy its company.  At home I am never truly alone, there is always a dog, there has been a dog there for thirteen years.

Here, the closest thing I have to a breathing companion is my air conditioner, which is constantly on.  I've debated over getting a fish, but they aren't much in the way of a companion.  They are sorta just there, swimming around, looking pretty, but not contributing much.  I could at least hold a conversation with Tess.  She'd whine or bark at me, I'd tell her what I thought, and she would give her rebuttal.  Even if she wasn't talking back, I knew she could hear me, understand me, no, but she would listen.
I talk to myself here now, just talking into the emptiness of my room like I would do at home, only at home, the room wasn't empty.  And you don't seem crazy when you talk to a dog, you seem crazy when you talk to an empty room.  Even if you are the only one who can hear yourself.

I've never gone this long without a dog before.  Ever.  Riley has been with the family for thirteen years.  I've had Tessa for almost four years.  Now, being at college for exactly a month, I feel strangely melancholy.  A different kind of sad from missing my family or friends.

Tessa has been with me through some of the toughest moments of my life, through depression and anxiety, through pain and grief, and though love and triumph.  She has always been there.  Something I didn't have to worry about.  She was never gonna leave me, she would always love me.  It was a relationship that didn't need work, like all of my other relationships did.  That's still true.  I think that's another reason I miss her so much.  We didn't fight, we didn't argue, we didn't mis-communicate, we didn't worry about our relationship changing due to any of those things.  It was just good, not perfect, but pretty darn close.

I think now that I've hit a point in my life where things are beginning to change in more ways that I can count, I need Tess more than ever.  To have that reminder that she isn't changing.  That when I come home, she'll be there ready to start again with our routine.  Until then, I wish I could talk to her, just vent to her, cause she is always willing to listen.  Tell her about my day, my classes, my classmates, my friends, my struggles.

Five more weeks....

Tessa at 10 weeks.

Tessa at 3 years

When It Rains, It Pours.

It's been raining for two days here in Kentucky.  Not just little drizzles, full blown, down pouring rain.  There was even a thunderstorm last night.  Not that I mind terribly, its just been a dreary weekend.

This morning I looked out of my window and saw that it had started raining again, and I realized I couldn't hear it.  I couldn't hear the sound of the rain hitting the roof or window.  Couldn't hear the wind blowing through the trees.  Couldn't hear the thunder last night.  If I kept my curtains closed I would have no idea it was even happening.

That's how I have been living my life recently.

I'm not letting the outside world get to me.  Not letting it affect my day.  Keeping my curtains closed so that I don't know what the weather is like.  I don't let myself be melancholy, happy, or stressed.  I am in an emotional dark room.

This has been working, letting the numbness of my situation take over for all the other emotions.  Letting the rain pour only on the outside, staying dry in my little room.

I got a wake up call yesterday, though.  Doesn't matter if you don't see or hear the weather outside, it can still affect you.

I heard the rain yesterday, as it fell from the ceiling of the dinning hall to the floor. A full on down pour; indoors.  Needless to say it threw everyone's day off.  Lunch was canceled and other arrangements had to be made.  The RAs had to actually go out onto the roof and scoop water off while it was still raining.  An amusing sight to say the least.  But I asked myself this morning, what if that were my life?

If I wasn't paying attention to the weather and then all of a sudden it was pouring down on my head, or my heart.  It doesn't matter how long I keep my emotional weather behind closed curtains, eventually it will catch up with me, and it won't be the good weather either.  Sunshine and happiness (as corny as it sounds) won't be what comes seeping through the cracks, it will be rain.  And it won't drip in slowly, enough for me to seal the crack and move on.  When it rains, it will pour.  It will flood, it will cause damage, it will take me by surprise if I don't keep an eye on the weather.

As much as it hurts, I have to let myself have emotion,  I have to experience the weather.  Cause as horrible as the rain may be sometimes, the sunshine will feel amazing.

Content. Not Comfortable.

When will I start missing home?  When will I really get homesick? Why am I even worried about that?
Right now I am content at the dorms, I like having my own space and being able to take care of myself.  I don't miss my home yet.  Not really, I just miss little things.

*I miss the smell of coffee in the morning.
*I miss the feeling of Tessa curled up at the foot of my bed.
*I miss the smell of my house.
*I miss the familiar things.  The comforting things.

I'm not homesick, I'm content.

But I can see myself shutting down, turning off that emotion and not missing anything or anyone.  I don't want that to happen.  I want to miss people, I do miss people, I just want to continue.

Tonight:
*I miss stargazing.
*I miss swimming in the pond.
*I miss going on walks with Tess.
*I miss sitting on my friend's porch and talking.
*I miss drinking coffee out of a real mug.

These are things I got used to this summer.  Things that I didn't realize I would miss as much as I do.  I've already written about hugs.

Oh, how I miss hugs.

I'm completely sure that I will always miss hugs.

I'm still scared.  I'm still worried I'm gonna shut down.  I don't want to get comfortable here, content is fine, but not comfortable.  I have to keep myself irritated with something or someone.  If something bothers me I can't get comfortable.  I'm safe.

This isn't a good place for me to be though.  I am constantly negative about everything and everyone here, trying to find things.  Sometimes it's easy.  Sometimes I have to search.

Why am I searching for negative things?

My world here is completely different.  There is so much structure and routine here.  I have the same thing for breakfast almost everyday.  I get on the same bus, with the same people, and go to the same classrooms and sit in the same seat.  Everyday.

My day gets all messed up if I do something different.  When someone eats dinner with me, it takes too long and I don't get my reading time, which pushed my texting and Skyping times back.  Then my day is just off.  And that bothers me.  A lot.

I don't have a lot of control here:
*I can't do everything I want all the time.
*I can't see my friends all the time.
*I can't sit in the yard and watch the world go by.
*I can't go down to the kitchen and get a midnight snack.

I'm on a schedule.  I'll remain on one until I go home in November.  That's why I am so concerned about shutting down.  With a schedule that I don't have to think about, it will be so much easier to close down and become a shell.  Just my body doing the routine.  That's what scares me.  I could change here.

I don't want to change.