Dear Diary, Figure It Out Dude.

I’m about to confess something and I’m not sure how I feel about it. But the point of this whole shin dig is to be 100% honest, right? Here goes nothing…I’m a crier. You read that right. Ashlan Camp cries. Groundbreaking, I know (insert Miranda Priestly meme). I don’t cry when I’m sad; no, that’s too obvious. I don’t cry when I’m happy either; that’s too dramatic. I happen to L O V E to cry when I’m overwhelmed or frustrated though.

For those of you who don’t know, I used to teach 7th/8th grade math. Also, for those of you who have never taught, please shut the fresh hell up about how teachers have it made since they have the summers off. If you could live the life of a teacher for one daggum day, you’d reconsider ever speaking such ignorance again. I’m extremely passionate about this because I have never been more stressed or overwhelmed in my life, than when I was teaching. Legitimately, three out of five days a week I woke up and had panic attacks thinking about all the shit that had to be done just to try and be a positive influence/try to educate the future of the United States on the quadratic formula and polynomial functions. I’m fairly certain I could have bottled up all my tears and made a body of water similar to the size of the Pacific Ocean. At this point in time, Wes and I were living in an apartment together. I’d come home each day (close to 9PM during coaching season, 6PM otherwise) and would have a mental breakdown in our living room. I’d cry about different kids’ home lives, mean parent emails I had received, or my never ending to-do list that just got some professional development article added to it. I’d cry because I wanted to work out, sleep, or do ANYTHING for myself, but I had 138 tests to grade. I cried because the profession I wanted to so badly be a part of and flourish in made me feel like a total and utter failure. One day I remember sitting on our couch (that had probably been ripped apart by sweet Remy at this point) with tears streaming down my face, and I asked Wes “Babe, what the hell am I gonna do? How am I going to make it through the rest of this year?” Now, I sort of meant this to be a rhetorical question, because obviously I was going to man up and do what I had to do. But, Wes answered like the modern day philosopher he was, and said “Figure it out dude.”

I’m sure to some this seems harsh and probably not the most supportive response, and I’m even more sure I probably said WTF after he responded like that. But I remember him saying something along the lines of “Quit thinking about all the shitty things going on right now and let’s think about ways to make these situations better.” And it was at this point in our relationship that our motto for life became ‘Figure It Out’. When we were stressed about our finances, we knew we’d figure it out. When we were changing careers, we knew we’d figure it out. When we were trying to figure out when the hell we’d finally tie the knot, we knew we’d figure it out. When we were stressing over the idea of becoming parents, we knew we’d figure it out. When we had life-changing family events, we knew we’d figure it out. We 100% knew we could trust each other to be the biggest cheerleader, supporter, brainstormer, best friend, confidant, and that would help us….figure it out.

Is it ironic that the first statement that rang through the darkness when I first processed the idea that I was a widow was ‘Figure It Out’? I’m gonna go with Hell No for $1000, Alex (RIP to that legend btw). Subconsciously, I think I knew that I just had to keep going, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to lay there and cry because I was overwhelmed, confused, frustrated, angry, bitter, scared, lonely, hopeless, and helpless. I did that btw. I laid there A LOT and I cried A LOT to whoever would let me, and I asked God over and over again “What the hell am I supposed to do now?” But deep down, I knew I’d do what Wes and I always did…we’d figure it out. And, even though he’s not here physically, I know Wes has been with me through every decision I’ve made thus far. Through this past (almost) year, I’ve made some big decisions. I’ve made some stupid decisions. I’ve made some decisions that have brought the BEST memories. I’ve made hard decisions. I’ve made decisions that have made people question my character. I’ve made decisions that make me feel like a bad ass. I’ve made decisions by myself. I’ve made decisions based off the help of friends and family. I’ve made decisions I never thought I’d have to consider at age 28. Before each and every one of these decisions, I’ve thought ‘Ash, it’s time to figure it out dude.’

While this journey is truly just beginning for me, I know that I’ll have other new, crazy, difficult, exciting experiences that I’ll have to figure out. I’m not scared though. I know that regardless of what is thrown my way, I’ll figure it out because I’ve done that too many times to stop now.

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And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. 1 Peter 5:10