<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067</id><updated>2026-08-30T10:46:13.212-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Face of Heart Failure</title><subtitle type='html'>Welcome to my blog. This is my way of dealing with the chronic health issues along with depression anxiety and PTSD.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>162</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-7153150279636168665</id><published>2026-08-30T03:26:28.355-07:00</published><updated>2026-08-30T03:26:28.355-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Personal Inventory</title><content type='html'>I had to sit back and reflect on the way I have been moving in my relationship. I find myself acting counterproductive to what I really want and I find myself being hurt by my own inaction to put myself first and get done the things that matter most to me.&lt;div&gt;My relationship is becoming this all encompassing thing and I have always had a problem being my own priority. I have to find out truly if I should back up from him and will he understand that it’s not a reflection on him, but that I need to find my way back to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/7153150279636168665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/7153150279636168665?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/7153150279636168665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/7153150279636168665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2026/08/personal-inventory.html' title='Personal Inventory'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-1961318399698716633</id><published>2025-12-09T11:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2025-12-09T11:00:02.170-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Saying Goodbye to Mrs. Troupe</title><content type='html'>In ‘22 you stood before God and my family and made a vow to love honor and respect me. You looked into my eyes and lied to my face. &amp;nbsp;In ‘23 you brought a woman into our lives and I left our bed. It was no longer sacred for me. I never knew you again as my husband. I took off the only rings you gave to me. I stood by your side. Poured into you as your devoted wife while you emptied me in every way you could. In ‘24 you walked out of the marriage, but still wanted to keep me from moving on. In ‘25 your mistress called me looking for you. (How dare she!). I had the courage to walk into that courthouse and ask for my freedom from you, and like a coward, you ducked and dodged the process server. Now this year has almost come to a close and I’m on the verge of finally saying goodbye to you and to Mrs. Troupe.&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/1961318399698716633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/1961318399698716633?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/1961318399698716633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/1961318399698716633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2025/12/saying-goodbye-to-mrs-troupe.html' title='Saying Goodbye to Mrs. Troupe'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-2746906908913096563</id><published>2025-06-23T04:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2025-06-23T04:09:27.921-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Breaking My Own Heart</title><content type='html'>There’s a limit to my patience. My husband is making me resentful towards him. I’m trying very hard to be patient but this financial situation he has put me in is really making me want to walk away.&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/2746906908913096563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/2746906908913096563?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/2746906908913096563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/2746906908913096563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2025/06/breaking-my-own-heart.html' title='Breaking My Own Heart'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-3811070638391934155</id><published>2025-06-19T09:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2025-06-19T09:03:43.980-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Foot Out The Door</title><content type='html'>Marriage is not easy for me. Some days are better than others and then there are days like this I want to cut and run for the hills. I don’t like being watched all the time or to have my movements tracked like he does. &amp;nbsp;I don’t do him like that and it’s really annoying and making me want to leave him and be by myself . I don’t know if I am really cut out to be his wife especially not with the way he is. I have so much thinking to do.&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/3811070638391934155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/3811070638391934155?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/3811070638391934155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/3811070638391934155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2025/06/one-foot-out-door.html' title='One Foot Out The Door'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-2359272012539168105</id><published>2025-06-18T22:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2025-06-18T22:44:31.062-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Is The Love?</title><content type='html'>I never really know from one day to the next if I have ever felt loved and appreciated by my husband. He can be so shortsighted sometimes and it frustrates me and infuriates me at the same time.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;There are times when I feel like he is just biding his time until he gets his car paid off so he can really show his natural black behind to me. I have done more than a woman in a loveless marriage would do and still I stay but make no mistake about it I won’t continue to play the fool.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There’s no passion no real connection between us. The mechanics of sex is there but is that real love absolutely not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/2359272012539168105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/2359272012539168105?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/2359272012539168105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/2359272012539168105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2025/06/where-is-love.html' title='Where Is The Love?'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-2011104412441720423</id><published>2025-06-18T22:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2025-06-18T22:43:25.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing is worth My Peace </title><content type='html'>I promise I tried to stay within this marriage and it’s just not worth all this hassle to stay with this man. We don’t communicate we don’t spend time together and the sex is lackluster at best.&lt;div&gt;I feel like I’m raising a grown ass man. He doesn’t even do the bare minimum in this marriage and I truly know I am in this situation-ship all by myself. I’m tired of talking to him about his behavior and his lack of action. I think it’s best we go our separate ways and spare each other any more of the heartbreak and confusion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I certainly don’t want to keep going around and around with him about me not staying in bed at night. He complains when I’m up late talking to my sister. He complains because of the night shift that I work. I like being at work at night just so I don’t have to deal with him and all the backhanded nonsense of his slick mouth.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Writing is my only outlet and even that is starting to suffer. I used to write about my feelings almost daily but it’s an uphill battle to even do that because he complains about me being on my phones all the time as if he pays any bills.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/2011104412441720423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/2011104412441720423?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/2011104412441720423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/2011104412441720423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2025/06/nothing-is-worth-my-peace.html' title='Nothing is worth My Peace '/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-9180797515723285755</id><published>2025-06-18T21:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2025-06-18T21:43:59.797-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why He Lost Me</title><content type='html'>There used to be a time when he would do for me without me begging and pleading. I didn’t used to worry all the time about coming up short on bills and he works every day for daily pay but he wasn’t pulling his own weight and that’s one of the biggest reasons why I chose to walk away because I am not made of money and as long as he thinks I have it the more he is willing to keep taking me for granted and I knew in that moment that I had to finally choose me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;I know it’s going to take me some time to untangle myself financially from this man, but at least I will have peace of mind knowing that I put myself first.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/9180797515723285755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/9180797515723285755?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/9180797515723285755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/9180797515723285755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2025/06/why-he-lost-me.html' title='Why He Lost Me'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-3225025275688230095</id><published>2025-06-18T21:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2025-06-18T21:43:23.579-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It’s Over and Done</title><content type='html'>My husband and I are truly over now. He finally moved out and I am simply relieved that he’s gone now. The only thing left to do is file the paperwork for the divorce.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;I waited patiently for him to get the message loud and clear that It would never be him and me ever again. I haven’t moved back into the bedroom because it has to undergo a transformation where there’s no memories of him left in that room. I felt disrespected in that room so until I transform it and cleanse that room I will not be sleeping in that room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I’m hoping to be divorced completely by the end of the year. Not sure if the lawyers will take my case but either way, I’m going to try my hardest to get my maiden name back. I wouldn’t suggest you marry anyone you’re not completely compatible with. You should have a good Christian foundation to build on and not have a divided heart. This was one very expensive lesson to learn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/3225025275688230095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/3225025275688230095?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/3225025275688230095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/3225025275688230095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2025/06/its-over-and-done.html' title='It’s Over and Done'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-9215440621219378748</id><published>2024-11-27T02:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2025-06-18T21:42:59.723-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Think Befero, I, Do</title><content type='html'>Til Death, Us Do Part.....In Sickness and Health.....For Richer, For Poorer.....Forsaking All Others......This is the most powerful statements you can utter to another person. To stand up and make a declaration to another person that you( vow), a sacred promise to them that you will love and care for them when the going gets rough, when your struggles together threaten the very foundation you two have built together, for any person to thrive in this world each of us needs to feel safe and secure in our surroundings. Oftentimes we fall short of the expectations we have about our significant other. This person is sharing your air and your space and time with the person you have vowed to love for life.....that&#39;s deep and both depressing as well as profound in the sense that you come in this world by your self, but we as humans need that interaction we thrive the most when we feel love and comfort, some of us have become so desensitized that we withhold our love and affections from those we are closest to out of a sense of entitlement for love, we are not promised love, we only hope that the ones we love and imprint on us will love us back, we jock for positions in the life of the one that we spend so much time with, when in reality, it&#39;s all borrowed time, we use trickery, bribery, and blatant coercion to get our way instead of a direct and honest approach, but in our honest dishonesty is to spare the other hurt, but inflicting more hurt with the &quot;I&#39;m Sorry&quot; when the longer you use it the less weight it carries, like saying &quot;I Love You&quot; loses it&#39;s meaning when it&#39;s not followed by a meaningful action. I, at times am so in love with him I actually get a real reaction when I don’t have contact with him. He’s the other half of me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/9215440621219378748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/9215440621219378748?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/9215440621219378748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/9215440621219378748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2012/09/think-befero-i-do.html' title='Think Befero, I, Do'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-7142330119457801558</id><published>2023-04-03T04:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2025-06-18T22:49:15.700-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeling Nothing</title><content type='html'>As he lays there beside me silently sleeping, I think to myself why am I still here in this marriage. It’s not like I get excited to see him when he comes home or I’m genuinely happy to see him. To be quite honest my husband doesn’t do it for me. Never has and probably never will. He just seems content with his life now the way that it is. I know deep down I settled because the one I truly wanted doesn’t want me in that way, but it doesn’t stop my longing for something much more meaningful than I am getting. I want a true partner who will not only excite me but will push me and challenge me to be better, not make me feel like I’m raising him. As it stands I feel nothing, but I have gotten real good at pretending . Something has got to change.&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/7142330119457801558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/7142330119457801558?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/7142330119457801558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/7142330119457801558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2023/04/feeling-nothing.html' title='Feeling Nothing'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-4598771610295729665</id><published>2023-01-27T18:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2023-01-27T18:42:50.983-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cancer</title><content type='html'>My beloved younger sister was diagnosed with endometrial cancer. We as a family are devastated. She is literally in for the fight of her life.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;This is where she will have to tap into her reserved strength to get through this battle. I pray for healing and a renewed sense of purpose for my sister. I am going to be there for her every step of the way.&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/4598771610295729665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/4598771610295729665?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/4598771610295729665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/4598771610295729665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2023/01/cancer.html' title='Cancer'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2YzqDxYeF6IFj3iA0cWSaz5XDG0MAZTQByBRZotEBGdRsoxp0bsGn5SWddYTfI8yg8roKwsRYbNFWpHhZYll3KGQlMk-uyRFGhugrr7MSSm0pxAWP2xE-oQqAlRFDKiDmqQmcXiwSex0/s72-c/1674873746108222-0.png" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-4764695614821529491</id><published>2023-01-12T18:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2023-01-12T18:42:17.847-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Beginning</title><content type='html'>My husband and my sister and I are moving into our new apartment in a few weeks. It&#39;s been a long two years since I was put on the waiting list. We got prequalified to get the place and we did it with all three of us. So there is is no need to hide or worry about nosey neighbors reporting us to having too many people in a 1 bedroom.&lt;div&gt;I am just grateful to God that we can be out in the open now and get back to being a family unit. I am also praying for a positive outcome for my sister Sandra who may have to have a hysterectomy in the near future. I am going to delay my shoulder surgery because we can&#39;t both be out of commission at the same time and I just don&#39;t trust my husband to pick up the slack without me telling him too. It would also mean giving him access to my account and I am not doing that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What I want us to do is to get a household checking account where we only use it to pay our rent lights and water from it only. I will talk to them about that. I have enough people going into my account as it is. I&#39;m going to have to cancel the majority of those subscription services I have money is just too tight right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/4764695614821529491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/4764695614821529491?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/4764695614821529491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/4764695614821529491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2023/01/new-beginning.html' title='New Beginning'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-3765402762157177509</id><published>2023-01-06T08:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2023-01-06T08:10:56.472-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blessings Abound</title><content type='html'>We got the approval for the new apartment. Now the real work begins.&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/3765402762157177509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/3765402762157177509?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/3765402762157177509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/3765402762157177509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2023/01/blessings-abound.html' title='Blessings Abound'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-1033655276119981099</id><published>2022-11-16T12:47:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2022-11-16T12:47:27.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'>7 Habits</title><content type='html'>Took the 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. Learned so much that I want to start implementing in my life. For starters, I need to clean up my space and clear out the clutter out of my life. I also need to reclaim a space just for me and no one else. Now getting my husband to understand that it&#39;s what I need so I don&#39;t feel so closed in and closed off because nothing is my own anymore. I know when you get married you have to share your space, I just wish we had more space to work with then everyone can spread out and not be on top of each other.&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/1033655276119981099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/1033655276119981099?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/1033655276119981099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/1033655276119981099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2022/11/7-habits.html' title='7 Habits'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-4231185970382660034</id><published>2022-09-11T01:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2022-09-11T01:36:59.388-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not So Sure</title><content type='html'>Not really sure how this new job is going. There&#39;s no permanent staff to train me on the 3rd shift. I am the only one. The other people here work via the agency so in order for me to actually train I have to just wait for the other young lady to come back and show me what to do. They make last rounds at 5-5:30 so maybe I will done some gloves and go with them as they work because me just sitting here with nothing to do is not the look.&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/4231185970382660034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/4231185970382660034?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/4231185970382660034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/4231185970382660034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2022/09/not-so-sure.html' title='Not So Sure'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-6305576857377236423</id><published>2022-09-06T00:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2022-09-06T00:29:55.298-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Possibilities</title><content type='html'>Started a new job under the ticket to work program at Brookdale Deer Creek in Sarasota. I was a little taken aback about the way they really weren&#39;t ready to train me and the young lady had no idea I was even coming. I was supposed to be watching training videos, however they&#39;re nowhere to be found on the laptop. I don&#39;t have access to email or really anything else.&lt;div&gt;This isn&#39;t what I signed up for. Not sure yet if I&#39;m going to like it here. It&#39;s pretty laid back, but all I have done is seen where the office is. I got handed a key to the building and pretty much left to my own devices, which isn&#39;t saying much. The job I am really looking forward to is the one working at Suncoast Career Source. Hopefully the gentleman that signs off on things will be back from vacation soon. Anyhoo, on to new possibilities.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/6305576857377236423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/6305576857377236423?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/6305576857377236423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/6305576857377236423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2022/09/new-possibilities.html' title='New Possibilities'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-4853704875812500663</id><published>2022-08-10T07:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2022-08-10T07:07:04.274-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Putting Things In Perspective</title><content type='html'>I woke up this morning with a different perspective about my marriage. I ended my friendship with the gentlemen from my weight loss group. It just wasn&#39;t conducive to my long-term goals for my marriage. I took these vows and I have to be present and show up for my marriage like I need him to.&lt;div&gt;Marriage is all about compromise and I need him to hear me when I voice my concerns to him about why I don&#39;t want to put another car in my name and why it&#39;s vitally important for him to get his license so he can be able to stand up and be a man in my eyes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need him to tell me the truth about Orlando and why he was going over there every week. I just need him to be honest with me about why...stay tuned.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/4853704875812500663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/4853704875812500663?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/4853704875812500663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/4853704875812500663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2022/08/putting-things-in-perspective.html' title='Putting Things In Perspective'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-451564657462150773</id><published>2022-07-02T04:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2022-07-11T19:57:42.700-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why They No Longer Mean Anything</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
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  &lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These are my wedding rings. They used to mean the world to me, but for the last three months or so they&#39;ve been devoid of any meaning to me other than a constant reminder of why I don&#39;t want to be married to this man anymore. We have nothing in common. We&#39;re never on the same page financially.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I shouldn&#39;t have to ask him for money to pay bills when he should offer. It&#39;s not like I&#39;m asking for an allowance each week, far from it. I asked him one time for $50 dollars just for myself and he hemned and hawed about it before he gave it to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In all honesty I have fallen out of love with my husband and I don&#39;t want to be married to him anymore. When I approach this subject with him he is going to react badly. Oh, he says that if a woman doesn&#39;t want him that all she has to do is say so, but he&#39;s very spiteful when his feelings are hurt and I don&#39;t want any drama, but the longer I keep quiet the more I feel my anger building and I don&#39;t want to blurt out I want a divorce in anger. I would like to sit down and discuss it like adults.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here&#39;s to wishful thinking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/451564657462150773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/451564657462150773?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/451564657462150773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/451564657462150773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2022/07/why-they-no-longer-mean-anything.html' title='Why They No Longer Mean Anything'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLMUD-C_bOY8A5-MvaKMOioNpkaCkw_CqDu9fMNqDzPHS1r2Kv7P1jd_qC9Pf8-Sq3woD8DEoL77cPzgWhMBqOMEoOQepX0Weo7a56uNK58BHdR2dLT3fBgSrfC9Ld34g_Wsjl6v1GMKk/s72-c/1656763183356227-0.png" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-6086845797609433778</id><published>2022-06-30T17:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2022-06-30T17:35:00.522-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Graduate</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
  &lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW7KSkdo9jy3zQveYS8C9B2mrs6Gl6yNaKxriBH2VcMZs-6aNrCFybOvVNbWGI3NGW7jIbWp5Hf3Gi4jCSW_3B0RyXZbU113UOgFr_26StBGN414hH6j_Hcb-eNookB2j1iODmupKeF3k/s1600/1656635698318539-0.png&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;
    &lt;img border=&quot;0&quot;   src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW7KSkdo9jy3zQveYS8C9B2mrs6Gl6yNaKxriBH2VcMZs-6aNrCFybOvVNbWGI3NGW7jIbWp5Hf3Gi4jCSW_3B0RyXZbU113UOgFr_26StBGN414hH6j_Hcb-eNookB2j1iODmupKeF3k/s1600/1656635698318539-0.png&quot; width=&quot;400&quot;&gt;
  &lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This degree was 30 years in the making. I am so proud of my accomplishment. I was absolutely elated when I got it in the mail. My next goal is to work on getting my Licensed Practical Nursing. I just have to figure out how to finance my education. The cost of the program is $6895.00 for the entire cost. I just think I may have to go the route of the CNA in order to fund my education. I&#39;m just not sure if I can do that back breaking work of a CNA anymore. I&#39;m not in my twenties anymore and it is grueling work. I want to work 11-7 because it&#39;s a slower pace for someone like me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/6086845797609433778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/6086845797609433778?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/6086845797609433778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/6086845797609433778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2022/06/the-graduate.html' title='The Graduate'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW7KSkdo9jy3zQveYS8C9B2mrs6Gl6yNaKxriBH2VcMZs-6aNrCFybOvVNbWGI3NGW7jIbWp5Hf3Gi4jCSW_3B0RyXZbU113UOgFr_26StBGN414hH6j_Hcb-eNookB2j1iODmupKeF3k/s72-c/1656635698318539-0.png" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-7864488132136013344</id><published>2022-06-14T16:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2022-06-14T16:21:51.095-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bachelor Bound</title><content type='html'>Finally paid off my tuition for my Bachelor&#39;s degree. It&#39;s been a long time coming. It&#39;s taken me thirty-seven years to get that degree and to my sister Sandra who made it possible for me to do I will forever be grateful.&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/7864488132136013344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/7864488132136013344?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/7864488132136013344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/7864488132136013344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2022/06/bachelor-bound.html' title='Bachelor Bound'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-4295387208663441879</id><published>2022-05-27T23:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2022-05-30T00:46:01.021-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My New Normal</title><content type='html'>Got on my scale today went from my starting weight at 363 to 318 I was shocked when I heard the number especially since I&#39;m just three days post op. I&#39;m excited but it did come as quite shock to have lost that much weight in such a short time. I can&#39;t wait for the rest of my transformation.&lt;div&gt;It&#39;s taking some getting used to dealing with the smaller portions. I had some wonton soup and I tried eating the wonton dumplings, I chewed them up and spit them out because I didn&#39;t want to make myself sick.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is still a process for me, Dr. Rekkas gave me this new opportunity so I can&#39;t waste it. This is my new normal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/4295387208663441879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/4295387208663441879?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/4295387208663441879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/4295387208663441879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2022/05/down-to-318.html' title='My New Normal'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-8423094635062852168</id><published>2022-05-22T16:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2022-05-22T16:13:25.181-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Say Goodbye to the Old Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
  &lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbo04e_Nt7x0i8mMqMHCktsVZddCPmyflk-pBUgHhFdjf2PG-7GM55Gf_oiPJRs_XKrGkrqQrDR2EPDAQ96EAm2nuwk1bBFDJyky671aKH7NFfEvSrt16lh9PjG65tsG2G5CcCwbPZ4uQ/s1600/1653261204913056-0.png&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;
    &lt;img border=&quot;0&quot;   src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbo04e_Nt7x0i8mMqMHCktsVZddCPmyflk-pBUgHhFdjf2PG-7GM55Gf_oiPJRs_XKrGkrqQrDR2EPDAQ96EAm2nuwk1bBFDJyky671aKH7NFfEvSrt16lh9PjG65tsG2G5CcCwbPZ4uQ/s1600/1653261204913056-0.png&quot; width=&quot;400&quot;&gt;
  &lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With my surgery day fast, I am saying goodbye to being obese and unhappy. I am looking forward to being healthy and getting my life back on track. I am hoping on my weight loss journey to lose enough to be healthy enough to go back to school to get my Licensed Practical Nurse and go back to work on the 11-7 shift.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wanted to be a nurse in my early twenties, but maybe God didn&#39;t think I was ready for that responsibility back then, but now 30 years later I&#39;m 52 now and my maturity level is different than it was back then. I am truly excited about watching my body transform.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/4470806835897861997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/4470806835897861997?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/4470806835897861997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/4470806835897861997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2022/05/introducing-mrs-troupe.html' title='Introducing Mrs. Troupe'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-1261449351557198311</id><published>2022-05-02T13:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2022-05-04T07:59:46.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hope</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
  &lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfOt_-aEZveEpvy3jgNbUd6R-4ZLQv8qnU0E5zMuAwSkGQTvCvzsquwxRYk_AzpQNpE5wMzMNcbBTeEdUBXUQEdwey6Mxei75kvtXqR48hDoGPtwGOxPZiFslA1_W5kryhdnZ8D8iL2bU/s1600/1651522811531257-0.png&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;
    &lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfOt_-aEZveEpvy3jgNbUd6R-4ZLQv8qnU0E5zMuAwSkGQTvCvzsquwxRYk_AzpQNpE5wMzMNcbBTeEdUBXUQEdwey6Mxei75kvtXqR48hDoGPtwGOxPZiFslA1_W5kryhdnZ8D8iL2bU/s1600/1651522811531257-0.png&quot; width=&quot;400&quot;&gt;
  &lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This our wedding day and believe it or not I am clinging to the hopes that this&amp;nbsp; would be different instead it&#39;s just more of the same. The only difference is he isn&#39;t cheating that I know of. He has numbers in his call logs but I am the only contact in his phone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hope will have you believing in someone&#39;s potential self versus who they actually are.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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&lt;g:plusone&gt;&lt;/g:plusone&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/feeds/1261449351557198311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/4717974329021473067/1261449351557198311?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/1261449351557198311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4717974329021473067/posts/default/1261449351557198311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefaceofheartfailure.blogspot.com/2022/05/hope.html' title='Hope'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfOt_-aEZveEpvy3jgNbUd6R-4ZLQv8qnU0E5zMuAwSkGQTvCvzsquwxRYk_AzpQNpE5wMzMNcbBTeEdUBXUQEdwey6Mxei75kvtXqR48hDoGPtwGOxPZiFslA1_W5kryhdnZ8D8iL2bU/s72-c/1651522811531257-0.png" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4717974329021473067.post-3186278192145812344</id><published>2022-05-02T08:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2022-05-02T08:12:06.938-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Losing Sight of My Goal</title><content type='html'>I stepped on the scale at 10:48 this morning and was upset to see that I had gained three pounds. My stress eating is getting out of hand for me. I know what it is but I&#39;m trying not to say it, but I feel it. I don&#39;t want to be married to him anymore. No matter what was discussed in therapy I don&#39;t want to be married to him any longer...there I said it. It doesn&#39;t make me feel bad to say it, but that&#39;s how I really feel.&lt;div&gt;To be brutally honet, I don&#39;t like how I am when I am with him. He doesn&#39;t challenge me mentally, spiritually or physically. The truth of the matter is Pastor wants me to let go and let him lead the household, but when I&#39;ve given a man control in my life it all went left, and I was in financial ruin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don&#39;t know if she&#39;s the best counselor for this type of situation and I don&#39;t know if Pastor Frank is either when the root of the matter is we shouldn&#39;t have gotten married again.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went against my own better judgement out of my need to want to go back and fix ny past.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe width=&quot;425&quot; height=&quot;349&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/IdzyQjAlk4U&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;
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