So, after a couple of years of wanting something “more”, but not knowing exactly what that more was, the universe pushed me. All I knew was I wanted more connection, more variety, to not be stuck behind a desk, but to also make the money I had gotten myself accustomed to, as well as the freedom to take time off whenever I wanted.
Two weeks after separating, I received an offer from a small company. The overall pay was considerably less than what I was making. The workload was double. The benefits sucked. The hours would be longer. Part of me thought of taking it just to have an income, but that pit in my stomach making me feel sick said otherwise. The owner was very surprised I didn’t jump on his offer, but I knew I would be miserable. It’s not what I was being “pushed” by the universe to do.
A couple months later I landed in the hospital needing oral surgery. It wasn’t pretty and honestly fucked with my mental state. I was barely able to eat for the week prior to surgery. I was on a liquid diet for the two weeks after. Twenty pounds down and looking in the mirror broke my spirit. My mother passed from pancreatic cancer fifteen years prior. I looked like she did before passing – skin and bones, no muscle tone, no energy. I did suffer from some minor depression, especially since we were coming into the holiday season, too. I spent a lot of time alone. And still unemployed.
January – I started a new job. I had a feeling in my gut it wasn’t going to go well, and I should have listened. I quit after five weeks. The owner was so toxic and everyone around him made excuses for him – “that’s just the way he is.” Ummm…..no! Unacceptable. It was so bad he refused to pay me for the last two weeks. I ended up having to file a small claims suit against him to get paid.
From there I decided to DoorDash. It at least gave me something to do while I figured out what it is I’m really meant to do (and some income). I picked up a bunch of short-term and one off childcare gigs. Those at least paid more than a lot of the offers I was receiving! I was making enough to meet my monthly expenses without having to pull from savings so that was a plus. But there was still that nagging voice in my head to figure out my purpose.
Let’s go back a bit to 2019. My youngest graduated high school and I lost being “mom”. My youngest went into the army. While in basic training he wasn’t allowed any phone calls. Eight weeks of training with nothing but old school pen and paper for communicating. His letters were hysterical. I shared them on Facebook. I mentioned then that I should turn them into a book. Fast forward six years later, I’m sitting in my living room back in July and the voice in my head said, “start typing.” Is this the beginning of my purpose?
I typed up the letters and sent them to a friend. He “edited” for me. Told me what to change for formatting. Said I should add a little back story about my son and why he joined. From there, I knew what I needed to do. The book was going to be dedicated to my oldest brother, Kevin, who served in the army and ended up taking his own life. 22 a day. 22 veterans a day commit suicide. The book is dedicated to all of them alongside my brother. Profits are to be donated to veteran owned non-profits that help with the prevention of suicide. Here’s the beginning of my purpose.
The book was self-published and released on Amazon in October. Sales were/are much slower than I anticipated. However, an event with Mission BBQ sparked an idea. They had a table set up that you fill out Christmas cards for our troops deployed overseas. I brought a box of 24 myself to fill out. I asked the campaign manager there if I could get people to sponsor the copies I had in my possession, would she send them with the cards. Yes! I had 24 copies in my possession and sold all of them, plus some. The extras will be donated to a local VFW.
And with that came an offer. Until next time………………………..