A Letter To My Teenage Self

Well sweetie, it’s not what we thought it was going to be – is it? I could write a negative version here, but I’m using this as kind of a therapy for myself, so I’ll need to keep it balanced. In other words, find the good in the bad and convince myself it’s true. Don’t get me wrong my troubled teen self, there have been some very beautiful moments, but man, it’s been rough.

You have always been a deep thinker, so extremely far into your own head. Even now it can sometimes get to the point where you are so overwhelmed with fear, worry or shame, you become immobilized. As a teenager you were sad much of the time. In fact, you’ve spent far more time in sadness than joy over your lifetime. That’s a lot of years Dana.

But somehow you’ve always managed to pull yourself out of it.

Let’s try to figure out where it began shall we?

When Shit Got Weird

I can remember when mom and dad separated, and everything got weird. It was the beginning of not feeling right in your skin. Dad started seeing a woman he quickly married after the divorce (actually, he was cheating on mom with her), who happened to have five kids and then later created a beautiful baby girl named Jamie. THEY were his NEW family and when you and Danny went over to visit, you’d feel like a complete outsider. You went from being “Daddy’s Girl” to standing on the sidelines, and what did you do as a child to deserve that? You were very much into softball in those days, which you’d think dad, having been very much into playing baseball (enough to be on the Dodgers farm team way back when), should’ve related to, but didn’t. You even made Allstars a few of those years while your stepdad coached the team. Your stepdad was an awesome human being. You loved him very much and so did everyone else. I think it takes a special person to love and parent children who aren’t their own. Dad, living only about ten minutes away, was busy being a great dad to his new family, but couldn’t even bring himself to come to a single one of your games. Why?!?!

I could talk a lot about dad. But it’ll always come down to the fact that he rarely made an effort to see you and Danny. How can a man justify not taking time to see his own children while living so close for so many years? You never understood that, and I still don’t. I think it was part of what fucked us up from the beginning. Yes, Daddy issues. The struggle is real I guess because I’m still thinking about it!

Then there’s mom. Boy, we had some serious battles. It was bad. We went to counseling to try and make it better, but it didn’t help much. You’ve always thought you were too smart for counseling. Knowing exactly what to say in a session, which back then was anything to make mom look bad. Now when I look back at it with more enlightened eyes, I think maybe it’s because you’ve always thought something about YOU was bad. Not in an appearance sort of way. You were not an ugly child. Taller than most of the kids your age yes, maybe even a little awkward, but ugly – no.

Self Image

It was a little later when you started to be consumed with appearance, which has been one of the most negative factors in life. Geez, all that time putting on makeup, doing hair and dressing a certain way in hopes of getting the “good” attention. I realize now what a ridiculous waste of precious time all that is. Yes, it’s fun to play dress up on occasion, but I shouldn’t have let it consume so much of our life.

I believe the child in me perceives the neglect from my dad (what was it about me that he didn’t want to be around?), and the actions of mom (all about appearance), as having something to do with my twisted perception of myself. I remember mom asking once if you were “going to go out of the house like that?” Which might be pretty typical, but this was a day you thought you’d take a chance without makeup. Or how about the time she made fun of that mole you had on your nose? There are other examples I don’t recall, told to me by family members, but you get the gist. I think she probably got that from grandma the beauty queen – always so polished and proper. That’s how women rolled back in those days. Doing housework in pumps and a pencil skirt.

There were other things about mom you felt oppressed you. Danny was always the “golden child” and you were the demon. You had always felt she looked at you in a different way and couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It wasn’t until later I found out from other adult family members she had some jealousy issues towards you, then it all made sense. None of that was your fault, it was entirely HER problem and she carries some of that animosity to this day. Still making rude remarks about my appearance.

Do you remember what you wanted to be when you “grew up”? A songwriter/guitar player. Mom got you that nylon string guitar and you went to private lessons for a while. Later you scored on the steel string Yamaha and took it to lessons at Glendora High school with instructor/janitor Kelly Sovine and a classroom full of friends. All the coolest people were in that class. That was some fun shit. Everyone learning and playing the same song together.

Beautiful moments like those happened and lots of other cherished memories with friends and family over our lifetime as well. You didn’t have a horrible life. It’s just that the negative stuff was ingrained at the root of your consciousness poisoning your thought process all your life. You still haven’t shaken it. Anger issues as well. I remember you punching walls and breaking things on occasion during extreme upsets as a teenager. As hesitant as I am to say that now.

Anger and Pain

Such a depressed young writer you were. Poems, lyrics, journaling – you’ve been writing all your life. I don’t think you ever felt you could get the pain out to another human. Or rather, you didn’t want anyone else to know what the fuck was going on in your head. There were so many angry letters to people. Mainly because you felt you wouldn’t be good at speaking any of it. When angry you tend to get flustered with words that are spoken directly to another person. Even if they deserve it. Another sign of caring too much about how you appear to others.

I hate to say it, but you’ve been a very self-centered person Dana. You’ve always gone so far into yourself that you rarely come up for air. I’ll never forget Nonnie telling you, “get out of that head of yours and focus on things outside of yourself.” During that time, you were going through postpartum depression after a serious case of mastitis which developed while breastfeeding Jason. Talk about a dark period of our life. You felt horribly guilty about the fact you were losing it with all that pain. You also developed TMJ (Temporomandibular joint syndrome) during that time from grinding your teeth in agony. It turned you into a hypochondriac for a while because you also had pain radiating through your head from your jaw joints and you didn’t know what the hell was going on.

I remember thinking it was supposed to be such a blessed experience to breastfeed your beautiful son. But he just kept falling asleep while feeding, which also meant he was waking up trying to eat every hour at minimum. You were beyond sleep-deprived and you had another little boy (Joey) who was in need of your attention. Oh my God, you were a bitch.

Nonnie ❤️

To write about everything that has taken place since your teenage years would take more time than I want to put into this right now, so I’m mainly focusing on standout experiences. There has been much loss. When dad died I think a part of us went with him, because we never got a chance to make up for lost time. He died not too long after the whole post-partum crap and then Nonnie. I’ll write about Nonnie first.

Oh, how we love/d her! I miss her more than words can express. She was your sanctuary. Your escape if only for a few hours. She would always let you go there to clear your head while she told you stories of her life as a child. She and her sister born to Irish parents (Connolly), sexually abused by their father and sent to live in an orphanage. Her stories would make you feel like “what the hell am I crying about?” She always had a way of putting things into perspective. I can’t say we really knew Papa (Nonnie & Papa) all that well because he was always sitting at the end of that retro 50’s dining table with a cigarette and a bourbon, in what looked to be deep thought. The only other things I remember of him was that he would get really mad if we stood at the refrigerator for too long without making a selection, and when we were small children he’d make us coffee and cream with plenty of sugar. No wonder he drank – haha! I can’t remember what year Papa died of cancer, but I remember Nonnie telling stories of him just before he died, he was seeing and talking to family members who had already passed “seeing beyond the veil.”

Nonnie started to lose it when we were all up dealing with dad in the hospital (I’ll get to that). She had a heart attack while we were up there. I guess she just couldn’t handle the thought her son might go before her. She was in one hospital, while dad was in another. We all did our best to keep it from him, but I think he may have figured something was amiss when his own mother wasn’t coming to see him. I’m not really sure if he ever found out. That wasn’t what took her away from us though. It was that nasty ass Alzheimer’s disease and pneumonia years later. You didn’t get to see her because you couldn’t leave Colorado at the time, but you talked to her on the phone and was told she heard you and reacted.

Fuck Cancer

I remember you and Danny sitting in dad’s room together doing your best to get as much quality time with him as possible. He had developed throat cancer which moved into his lungs and you didn’t know anything about it until he was hospitalized. He called (a rare occurrence) about a month before, somewhat out of the blue to shoot the shit and slipped in the fact that a doctor found a spot in his lung that needed to be checked out. He didn’t act too worried about it, but before he hung up you made sure to tell him to call back with an update. He never did. Instead you got a call from Uncle Mike (Dad’s brother) telling you to get to Orangevale, California ASAP because dad had fallen, hit his head, and was in very bad shape. It was you, Danny, Aunt Kathleen, Nonnie and Uncle Mike who went up there. Part of the time was spent in a hotel and part was spent at their home (he and his wife Gloria’s home).

When you first arrived at the hospital you had already been briefed on his condition. They put him out with some kind of paralyzing drug because he had an artery that was eaten away by cancer and could rupture at any time. He hadn’t been awake yet, so the first place you went was the hospital chapel. you got down on your knees and prayed to God with all your heart and said, “if you’ll wake up my dad and let me have time with him, I’ll spend the rest of my life getting to know this Jesus character everybody keeps talking about.” Then you stood up and found your way to his room. When you walked in, Nonnie was on one side of him and Aunt Kathleen on the other. I think you said something like “Dad? I’m here and I love you.” Just when you said that, he opened his eyes and a tear rolled out and down his pale cheek. All you could think was “Oh my God, this praying stuff really works!” Nonnie and Aunt Kathleen were blown away too.

You and Danny spent hours in his room asking him questions and passing the notepad to him so he could write the answers (I still have some of those pages). He had a ventilator down his throat and couldn’t talk. At one point when it was quiet and you and Danny were looking at him, he took his hands and pointed at you both, then pulled them into his chest near his heart and did a hugging motion. It was THE MOST heartfelt thing you had seen him do in your entire life. You and Danny looked at each other knowing it was meant just for you. It was the last thing you got from him and neither of you will ever forget it.

Another precious moment.

Sitting around the hospital bed went on for a few days. It’s weird because I don’t remember anyone but you and Danny being there the whole time. I realize others had to have been there on occasion too. I just don’t remember it. Finally, he was doing well, so they were going to move him out of ICU and into his own room the next day. Everyone felt relieved and went back to the house to eat one of his favorite dinners. He called while you were all eating and said he was doing fine and we didn’t need to go there that night because he was tired. He knew you were all hanging out together enjoying dinner. It wasn’t long after you hung up, you got another call from a nurse telling you to get there immediately because dad had taken a turn for the worse. You jumped into the rental car and got there before anyone else. It was you, Danny and Aunt Kathleen from what I remember. Once inside, they sent you all to the waiting room where you waited only a few minutes. Then, in a very surreal moment, time felt like it stopped. You could see a team of doctors walking down an empty bright white hallway towards you and could tell by their faces, dad was gone. They told you an artery in his lung had ruptured and they couldn’t save him. He drowned in his own blood. Which was absolutely horrifying to you – and still is.

I’ll never forget one of them telling you he knew exactly what was going on. You thought about that for a long time afterward. What was going through his mind? The fear he must have been in. It was the stuff of nightmares for a while afterward.

They led us up to the room where his body lie and left us alone. The first thing we did was start talking to him through our tears. We could feel him in the room. I remember Aunt Kathleen telling us he was still warm, so I put my hand on his chest – and he was. I can’t even explain how strange it was to touch him and feel the warmth of his previously occupied shell and realize he wasn’t there anymore. The time-frame is in bits and pieces, but another thing I remember was Gloria (his wife) coming into a room and hearing dad was gone and then Danny catching her before she hit the floor.

Later, our family went back into the room together and while everyone was standing around him, you noticed the inside of his mouth was filling up with blood while he lay there on his back. Horrified at the thought it would soon be pouring out the side of his face, I remember you trying to distract everyone while ushering them out. Gruesome I know, but that’s what happened and it’s still a very vivid memory. FUCK CIGARETTES.

The end of that night was spent sitting out on a curb in front of the hospital with Danny, while you cried and recapped your experiences and how you felt about them. You’d never get another hug from your father. You’d never get a chance to spend time with him as adults with families and he would never get to know how awesome his grandsons are. He would be so proud of his strong Irish grandsons ❤️

Life and Loss in Colorado

I’m remembering things as I go along, and there are a few things out of sequence. I married in 1991 and had three beautiful boys. We left California and moved to Colorado in 1996. Joey was five, Jason was three and I was seven months pregnant with Joshua. Joe, (my husband) was a drywall contractor, while I stayed home with the boys. A few years later, Joe’s cousin Tom – a well-respected brewer in the craft beer industry, put an idea into our heads to start a brewery in the town we were living in (Canon City, Colorado). It took us ten years and a lot of blood, sweat and tears, but we finally opened the doors. It was fun and exciting at first, with a few surprise changes in management right at the beginning, but after a year or so we knew in our hearts we couldn’t sustain it. We went too far into debt and obviously weren’t experienced enough to know how to manage a restaurant in the best manner. It was definitely a learning experience on what happens when you force things into existence. My biggest takeaway.

The story of McClellan’s Grill & Brewing Company is a long and tragic one. We lost it after about three and a half years of operation. I’ve written about it in another place, but all I want to say about it here is that it was the beginning of the end of my marriage, my sanity, my strength, my confidence, my direction in life, my homelife, my relationship with my mom, relationships with other family members, and on and on and on for about a ten year span of my life. I’m still in the healing process and probably will be for a while. I lost a piece of me I have yet to get back.

Our family moved to Fort Collins to get away from that mess and about a year later Joe left me and moved back to California. Joey (our first-born son) had previously moved out on his own and was living nearby in Fort Collins, while Jason was going to college on a full ride scholarship – first in Wyoming and then in Chicago. It was Josh and I living together while we both went to school. Behind in rent and living on student loans, we were somehow able to stay in that house for months (while suffering some very high anxiety about getting kicked out). Until another student loan kicked in and I was able to move us and our two large dogs out of there.

I Can Draw!

Life was very lonely for me. I didn’t know anyone in Fort Collins and I was seriously fucked up in the head. The only thing that helped me feel better about myself was being back in school. I loved learning. I decided to take a drawing class as an elective, while majoring in English and it turned out I could draw! I mean, I could really draw, with not a lot of previous experience! It was one of the things I always knew I could do, but never did.

I took three drawing classes at the local community colleges, and during that time I was able to win “Best of Show,” 1^st Place, 3^rd Place, and an “Honorable Mention” in a couple of art shows. I was even considering changing my major to art. But have I done anything with that gift lately? NO, but It’s there waiting for me to give it attention. I’m ready to have that kind of focus again.

Scary Stuff

Joe and I weren’t really talking much at the beginning of our separation, but I knew he was seeing other women. After about a year and a half, I met someone. It was at a time when Joe and I were talking about him coming back. Long story short, Joe hated me for that for a while. My relationship with the guy didn’t last very long, but during that time I moved back down to Canon City where we had the brewery and where I still have lots of family and friends. Joe took over the place I was renting with Joshua and the dogs. I just needed to get away. Since then, time and more tragedy occurred in our family. Our middle son Jason suffered two massive strokes in 2015 while enrolled in a university on a D1 basketball scholarship (another story), family pets died, our youngest son went to prison on a bogus charge, and my mom was abused by her husband so we had to move her here to Colorado to be near us. I went to take care of her after she broke a hip and stayed there close to a year, but couldn’t handle staying in the house with her – heavy smoker that she is. [FUCK CIGARETTES]. I created an escape pod in her garage (my “she shed”), so I could tolerate being there while working on my computer, but ended up very depressed thinking to myself “I’m living in my mom’s garage.”

Mom was falling on occasion and it took awhile to narrow down the problem. Turns out if you don’t drink too much alcohol in a day when you’re elderly and on medication with bad feet, you stand a much better chance of NOT falling. She rations herself now and no longer needs an in-home caregiver, which was a relief to me and was my pass to leave. Most of the time I was in Canon City, I was traveling back and forth staying with Joe in Fort Collins because we were friends again. I’d stay there for weeks at a time, helping him with a project (a marijuana grow). I now live in Fort Collins full time. I wouldn’t say it’s perfect, but Joe and I are getting along well.

Which leads me to where I am now in February, 2019.

Community

Currently, I’m doing the best I can, but it hasn’t been easy to see the world with fresh eyes. So much of what I was turning my attention to is ugly as hell. I don’t want to put energy into that stuff anymore. I’m 56 years young and in good health, but I’m getting a late do over. Jobs are just jobs. I need to create my art and live my purpose. Most of all, I want to help women like me feel happy and worthy again. I know there are lots of women out there who could use the support I crave for myself and I’d like to help as many as I can. My dilemma is, how can I possibly be a credible helper if I can’t do it for myself? I’ve got to get through this and I’m tired of wasting time.

Our home was always a hub of community and I miss it. I’m very much in need of a whole new tribe and it’s become a priority for me. I’m hoping I can manifest it over the next year and carry it with me for the rest of my life. Humans aren’t meant to be as isolated as I’ve been. If you look at Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, you’ll find community is a basic human need.

There was a time isolation was good for me. I was forced to figure out a way to bring peace into my life in a world full of anxiety. I was listening to a lot of Eckhart Tolle and Joe Dispenza, which taught me about neuroplasticity and rewiring the brain away from negative emotion. It brought me a lot of hope. I healed quite a bit from where I was at the time but still needed more friends. So, what did I do? I started a Beer Lovers group on Meetup.com a few years ago 😊 Back then, what I really wanted was some light-hearted fun. The “Napa of Beer” that is Fort Collins, Colorado didn’t have a beer lovers’ group so I thought it would be perfect. Now there are 700+ members.

As for gathering a supportive tribe of amid-lifer women friends, I’m sure there will be people out there who’ll think it’s weird or lame, but I’m tired of giving a shit about what other people think. I just know what I need for myself and this is the only way I can think of to begin. If no one takes interest in it, it will be a record of our family for future generations.

Amid Life Mindset

I’m launching a blog very soon amidlifemindset.com in hopes of attracting a tribe of badass women in the midst of life, who crave genuine identity and aren’t all fancy. It’s been a long time coming and I really had a hard time narrowing the direction of it. We all need supportive people in our lives who see us from an outside (of the family) perspective.

While I was putting it all together, I had to recognize my strengths and how I could use them to add value to others. What can I do to attract this tribe of women, so they’ll understand my intention? All I can do is put 100% into the things I’m passionate about in hopes it will be relatable to some in this demographic. This is where I’ll produce much of my content and not only that, it’ll motivate me to start living and experiencing my passions again. This is very exciting to me! This time in my life is precious and I’ve been wasting so much of it, like I’m going to be here forever or something.

Back to you sweet girl. I’d just like to say to you now that I’m tired of the way we’ve been. I want to spend the time I have left on this earth with the ability to pay it forward and appreciate the beauty of life. I want you to know that it may not have turned out like we planned, but the trials are what make the good parts so precious. Life is beautiful. I will come out the other end with a more lasting joy in my heart instead of just glimpses of it. To do this, I’ll have to become a more present observer of all those crazy ass thoughts going through my head and entertain the positives over the negatives. If other women are willing to join me, all the better.

And it’s time for more art!

With all my love,
Future you <3

P.S. Is it ok if I write to you again?

***Update: I recently met Future Me and I’m writing a book. This blog post may or may not be a chapter in this book, I’m still hashing it out. But yeah, I realize it sounds a tad schizophrenic and I don’t care. Future Me is the observer. She is spirit, tapped into source and she loves me. Which means… I love myself! A breakthrough for me.