I once volunteered overseas and went through training about the cycle of living abroad. They said it takes two years to adjust to your current living situation. The first 6 months usually is called the Honeymoon phase. Then it pretty much goes downhill afterwards until you hit rock bottom and question your sanity. Either volunteers quit or stay through it. It could still be in the dumps or it could finally start looking good and worth the months of hell. Those who stuck through it never regret the last few months and actually is the best phase than the Honeymoon phase. Then they don't even want it to end. 

​For Mer, everything is falling apart in slow motion. 

First, it was the leak in the toilet that would not stop. The leak cause flooding as well as damages to the floor. 

Then, my stupid move going up a curvy steep hill that scraped the bottom of my black water hatch, which leaks "soup" every time I drain it.

Then there's me. I'm completely unhinged from moments in my journey.

​It's like, the fragility of it [me] cracked and now it is in the state of vulnerability. The only way to fix it is to replace it. It will be costly, but at the end, a new type of fragility is in place. I just need to know which company [which path] I should choose as a replacement.

Sorta like, mer is me and I am her. We're breaking down into pieces, needing repairs and I know that whatever decisions I make, it'll be costly, no matter what path I choose. I just need to remind myself that it's okay to be vulnerable, it's okay to change and it's okay to be selfish in order to be selfless. 

So, this is where my training from overseas kick in, I'll stick through this mess of becoming me, all of me, and then I will shine.

I likened myself to the Moon. 
She’s always there and her energy waxes and wanes. When she’s full, she is a force to be reckoned with. When she’s in her phases, she’s still whole even in the darkness. Steady and true to herself, and giving, always giving. 
Tho, I do ask myself, does she ever tire like I get exhausted? Does she have that point in her time where it hurts to shine, when you have to shine? Because it is bravery with a smidgen of insanity to take in the sun in full force. Then other times, it’s effortless to share the brightest moment in your time. Does she say, “Sweet Jesus, I survived” and weeps quietly when she’s crescent or does she yearn to shine fully when she's in that slim curvy silver phase? 
Or is the Moon just an inanimate object who puts too much value in herself? May be so? Is she jealous of stars for their abilities to shamelessly burn brightly and then rip themselves from the sky and free fall? 
Who knows what she thinks. However, whenever I look up at Her, I hope she knows I always am in awe with her. Always

​Today I spent over an hour digging in Arkansas dirt in search for diamonds. I, and my red Hunter boots, had my butt firmly planted on mud, as I used my bare hands to dig. My neck craned and my focus was on just one area. I buried my fingers into the dirt and dug them out. I didn’t shift position for a long time.
 
My boys joined the fun as well, but after a short time, they were ready to go. Not I. I felt like a little girl, digging in the mud without a care in the world. I knew my chances in finding a diamond were very slim. Nonetheless, it was exciting. It probably was the closest sense I had to “being” grounded.
 
It was life in its grandest gesture, to find a diamond in the rough. Which, oftentimes, pretty much is a tease and leaves you with nothing but a bunch of rocks.
 
I know this. I left the park muddied and with several tiny rocks in labeled brown paper bags.
 
Still, I smiled. And my smile was for the dirt, the dirt alone.