Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Contemplating your ruminations, dear people....

Sometimes, when I've got nothing better to do, I peruse the brain dumpage that goes on at message board for posting your random thoughts and rants. A lot of the time, I agree with at least half of the rantings on there. And if not, I at least get some amusement out of them. Though some, I have more in depth reactions to. Here are just a few examples of my deep thoughts of these ruminations. Enjoy, haha. ;)

"The phrase, 'We need to talk' has the ability to strike fear into the heart of anyone."

Mostly, that's a true statement. If it's a person I have no emotional tie to, it's not likely going to alarm me hearing that. I never worry that I'm caught in some deception or a manipulation scheme gone wrong because I don't play silly games like that. When I hear that phrase from someone I actually care about, I start worrying because I just assume that something is wrong or something bad has happened. I start running through all the possible things that could be wrong, all of which pretty irrational and highly unlikely. The worst is when the phrased is said hours before the talk actually takes place. Though being honest is helpful because it eliminates having to worry about being caught in some deception. One less thing to worry over. ;) If it happens at work, I just wonder what I've done wrong now or what silly little thing am I about to get nit picked for today. Or if I'm in a bad mood that day, I might wonder if I'm about to become unemployed but that's only a lingering, mostly quiet little thought behind all the other ones.

"
Sometimes I wish I could run over a pedestrian or hit the car in front of me, just to prove a point. "

So, proving a point with road rage and property damage? Makes sense. Seriously. How else are they going to learn? Being taught the proper ways, rules and laws to do things obviously doesn't work but having a reality check in the form of some road rage is sure to stun some sense in to people.*

"
Going to the circus as an adult is a very different experience. As a child, you ask, "How did they do that?" And as an adult, you ask, "How the hell did they end up doing that?""

My thoughts are more along the lines of wondering just who thinks up some of the wicked stunts these people pull. And then wondering why anyone would want to risk their lives for a 5 minute set while hoping they enjoy their profession as much as they seem to. Followed up by me wondering why the hell I'm at the circus when I hate clowns and being in an enclosed space with supposedly tamed formerly wild animals. Though back to my point. I don't like that a lot of people look down on circus performers honestly. I don't like that anyone is looked down on because of their profession, judged by how they earn a living, but that's another rant all together. Here, I'm talking circus performers. I don't see why that's such a bad or weird gig to have. Especially if they enjoy what they're doing. How many of you can say you truly enjoy what you do? I look at the circus as being a little bit like performing arts. Sure, it's a bit more unusual than ballet or musical theater but, so what?


"I bet the worst time of a mans life is the eve of his daughters wedding day at about 11:30pm. "Welp... MY little girl is getting absolutely railed right now. Awesome.""

So traditionally from this standpoint, isn't the sex after the wedding and the reception? Not on the eve? I'm not religious and not a traditional old fashioned type so I'm unclear on this but I always thought it was after the wedding hoopla that the sex was to happen. That point aside, I'd hope no one's dad sits around thinking angrily about his daughter getting it on with her new husband after their wedding. That just seems a little odd to me. People know their kids have sex just like you know your parents have had sex before. I choose to acknowledge that fact but never think about nor ponder the event. Ever. That's just not something I want to think about. And not something I'd want either of my parents thinking about in regard to me.

"
People say I'm a negative person. I'm not, I'm just consistent in being positive that bad things are going to happen."

You know those ironic tshirts with the clever little life anecdotes or sarcastic phrases on them? This should be one. I want to put this phrase on a coffee mug and set up shop outside of hipster coffee shops and bookstores and see how many I sell. People just love to make themselves seem positive when they're being negative because it doesn't seem as bad, so I'm sure I'm going to make a fortune with my new endeavor.

"I can't wait to be old so I can say, do and wear crazy things and it's considered cute not strange."

Or you could just stop caring so much about what people think. Dun dun dun. Seriously, people put way too much thought into what other people will think of them. You're never going to see most of the people you walk by daily again, who cares what they're going to think about you? And the people in your life that matter should accept you as you are. If they don't, well, they suck. Do what makes you happy and stop worrying about what everyone else is going to think.

"
I realize that you have a laptop with a built in camera, but it doesn't mean that you have to take a million pictures with it and post them all."

I don't even have a thought to go with this other than, RIGHT ON. I just wanted this one to be part of this blog post. Spot on. Awesome. Love it. Kudos. In case you're some how not getting it, I AGREE WITH THAT STATEMENT 100%. Everything is expressed more urgently and seen as more important when you say it in caps lock, right? Why else would everyone feel a need to prove their point in such a fashion? ;)

Happy Tuesday!


*If you took me seriously there, go lay down, please. I do not support violence or property damage though I am a big supporter of sarcasm. ;)

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Questions become answers & some Walt Whitman....

1. Your ex's car is on the side of the road, on fire. What do you do?: Call the fire department, obviously.

2. Your best friend tells you she is pregnant. What is your reaction?: Considering my best friend is a guy, I'd likely freak out a little bit.

3. When is the last time you wanted to punch someone in the face?: That urge happens at least once a day, every day.

4. What is the last thing you spent money on?: Groceries, laundry detergent & Chick-fil-A.

5. Do you think you gained or lost weight this past month?: Lost.

6. Crunchy or Puffy Cheetos?: Neither, really.

7. The first person on your friends list just called you a bitch. What do you do?: What friends list?

8. Congratulations! You just had a son. What’s his name?: When the hell was I pregnant? And when the hell did I have unprotected sex?

9. Congratulations! You just had a daughter. What’s her name?: Ah! Two at once? I think I'd know if I had been pregnant with two kids...

10. What are you craving right now?: Cream cheese.

11. What was the last thing you cried about?: My grandfather dying or just coping and missing him.

12. When you buy something and your change is 2 cents, do you keep it or tell the cashier to keep it?: Depends, sometimes I take it if I'm still standing there getting my stuff together or I tell them to keep it if I'm in a rush.

13. What color is your tissue box?: Blue.

14. Do you have a ceiling fan in your bedroom, and if so, is there dust on that fan?: Yes. I'm sure there is but I'm not stopping it to check and see.

15. What was the last voicemail you received about?: A wrong number, a collection agency looking for a dude named Nigel.

16. Have you ever blocked someone on Facebook?: Doubtful.

17. Scariest thing you’ve experienced in the last year?: I have an answer for this but I'm going to pass on reliving that one. Just know it was terrifying man, terrifying.

18. Do you wear a name tag at work?: Nope.

19. What kind of car do you want?: Mini Cooper, Bugatti Veyron, Aston Martin Vanquish, 1967 Camaro, etc etc etc. I have a long list, lol.

20. What do you order when you go to Burger King?: Chicken fries or a burger but I don't hardly ever eat there.

21. Have you ever had a garage sale?: No.

22. What color is your cell phone?: Black.

23. What is the last alcoholic beverage you had?: Bong Water shots. And no, it wasn't actual bong water, just the name of the shot, ha.

24. Are you happy right now?: Hell yeah.

25. Who came over to your house last?: Mom and my two youngest siblings.

26. Do you drink beer?: Yeah. I usually go for liquor but sometimes I get in the mood for beer.

27. Have your brothers or sisters ever told you that you were adopted?: No, I'm the oldest so they've never tried that one on me.

28. What is your favorite key on your key chain?: Car key, haha.

29. What was the last movie you watched at home?: Black Swan.

30. What is in your pocket?: I'm wearing boxers so no pockets.

31. Who introduced you to your bf/gf/husband/wife?: Myself. I'm awesome like that.

32. Where do you hurt?: At the moment, no where.

33. Has someone ever made you a build a bear?: Oh yeah. My boyfriend had made me a few. They're adorable.

34. What’s something fun you did today?: I'm doing this late Friday night so we'll say helping my younger brother find hockey gear was something fun. Also, playing Apples to Apples while having a few drinks was fun, too.

35. What is your favorite aisle at Target?: I don't have one. Unless you want to count the DVD section, then that.

36. When is your birthday?: June 15th.

37. Is there anything hanging from your rear view mirror?: Nope.

38. How many states in the US have you been to?: Uh, damn.... 10 for sure. Maybe more if you count a couple that were driven through.

39. What kind of milk do you drink?: Soy milk is what I prefer.

40. What are you going to do after this?: It's almost 3 AM so.... Schedule this to post, wash my face, play some Incubus and pass the hell out.


Happy Saturday!!!!!! :)
Have a good weekend, y'all!

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

The thunder rolls....

Here are some pictures I got before the storm really got going last night.....







I took them using my blackberry and it was too windy to stay out there long but those were a few of the decent ones I got.

I love thunderstorms and lightning. I love sitting on the porch watching before the storm gets too bad. Something about being outside calms me down, especially before a storm. Nature is very calming to me. Being near the water is most calming but I digress. I love watching the lightning most. A black sky being lit up by a bright burst of lightning dancing across the sky intrigues me. I love how it so violently lights up some of the prettiest things in the middle of the night. It's kind of ironic that I find something that can be so dangerous and cause so much damage to be so beautiful and calming.

I dislike the damage some of the severe storms we get in Texas cause but I do love laying in bed enjoying it when I'm not sitting outside enjoying it. Thunder rolling, wind gusting, rain pounding against the windows, the room lighting up for a second as another bolt of lightning flashes across the sky. It's one of my favorite ways to drift off to sleep.

Happy Wednesday!

Sunday, June 19, 2011

We went out last night....

So last night..........

  • I had a random girl offer me $1 to motorboat me on the dance floor.
  • Made fun of a cop who was making fun of me & didn't get in any trouble. Usually talking back to cops is a bad idea, they get pissy because they can. He was good natured.
  • Had a random girl smack my ass then ask to hang out with my friends & I bc she was bored with who she came with (sister, fiancée, fiancée's sister.)
  • Ran into an ex from 10 years ago & met her new boyfriend who was more than a bit shocked his girlfriend even had an ex girlfriend.
  • Had a girl at the table next to ours look at me & say, "arr I fuck like a pirate" whom I then high-fived.
  • Sang a song with the cover band because we were right by the stage when dancing & the lead singer saw me singing along so came over & told me to sing it with him, sat down and put the mic between us. This was of course after he had tried to buy me a drink during their first break so I think he was probably just trying to flirt with me more but whatever, it was fun.
  • Saw a girl that had danced with me & some of my friends earlier hit another girl over the head with a beer glass & then get arrested while her boyfriend stayed inside continuing to drink with his friends as she was escorted out & screaming at him to help her.
  • Had an older lady that was drunk off her ass hug me and give me a kiss on the cheek as I was standing by the bar with The Lawyer because she thought I smelled nice and looked like I could use a hug. Her "motherly instincts" told her so. She smelled like vodka, cigarettes and cats.
  • Tyler almost got into it with a guy because the guy kept hitting on Tyler's boyfriend and wouldn't back off and leave Z alone. At one point, after he had been told Z wasn't interested and to back off, he stepped between Tyler and Z while they were dancing so he could try and dance with Z. That's when Tyler lost it and almost hit the dude. They had a confrontation for a minute, one of the cops patrolling in the bar came over and the other guy finally went away and stayed away.
  • Had a guy that was trying to flirt with me ask me if my cranberry juice tasted good because he's never had it before and he always wondered if it was good.
  • Had another guy that offered to buy me a water after I said I wasn't drinking and then said I would have to dance with me if he paid for my water. I informed him water was free and I wouldn't under any circumstances be dancing with him. He then offered to buy me a real drink. I almost smacked him but settled with telling him to go away.
  • Got glitter all over me because my friends co-worker threw tiny handfuls of electric blue glitter on everyone (it was premeditated, girl doesn't just carry around a baggy with glitter in it) because she was "making it rain Ke$ha style."
I wasn't even drunk for any of this because I was one of the sober drivers in our group last night. So, crazy night but I had a lot of fun. It was funny because I've been so down lately that I literally had to make myself go out last night instead of laying around at home watching stuff on NetFlix. Then I almost just called it off because I really didn't want to go anywhere but I never do that and I always hate when people bail on plans last minute. And I was the one who planned this thing because I knew if I planned it then I'd have to go because I never back out on stuff unless I have a really good reason to. It was the first night I've even left the house to do something other than family stuff since my grandfather passed away last week. For my birthday, I just had dinner with my family and went home for the night. I didn't feel like doing anything else even though I had several people offer to take me out to do fun stuff. I just passed on it all with an apology that I didn't feel like it because I knew I was down and didn't think I'd be fun to be around. Also, I usually hang out with various friends during the week here and there as time/scheduling allows but I haven't wanted to go, do or see anything or anyone. Between all the crazy antics that went on that only took up a couple minutes at a time, there was a lot of dancing, talking and laughing with my friends. Then last night ended up being one of the most fun and entertaining nights I've had in a long time. Which is really what I needed.

Happy Sunday, y'all!
Happy Father's Day to all the dads!

Friday, June 17, 2011

Interior designs & the baby hippo....

I love interior design. My favorite things to draw in art class were always rooms and landscapes. I even contemplated a career in interior design when I was younger. I also love helping people decorate the rooms in the houses, especially when I get to help pick stuff out, lol.

I was sad yesterday. It marked one week since my grandfather passed and I was also hit with the realization that I didn't need to buy him anything, not even so much as a card, for Father's Day this year. No phone call. Nothing. And it hurt. A lot. So, I spent the night at home relaxing and drinking mango tea with some coconut rum mixed in. Several hours spent on interior design websites, looking at before and after shots and reading how-to tips and new things. I like to look at the pictures, critique them and think of ways I'd change them and mentally store away ideas I really like for the possibility of one day putting those ideas to use. It's a creative outlet in a way and it lets me relax and focus on something fun and light. Here are some of my favorite pictures of my interior design immersion.....

The shower in this bathroom, OMG. The tub is pretty big, too. I'm a shower girl and pretty much never take baths. If that monster of a tub has some jacuzzi jets in it, I'd happy lounge about in there. After my shower, haha.




This is lovely...




I LOVE the colors here...





I LOVE THESE COLORS EVEN MORE...




This looks like a soothing, relaxing room....




This is totally cool, I like the fountain/pond looking thing the most....




I like this one because of the colors and it looks warm & cozy....




I wouldn't like this for myself but I like it anyway. I like how clean the white and black looks with the splash of color to keep it from looking sterile and boring....




I literally want to crawl into the pictures and hop into that bed....




This is just fucking cool. The possibilities....




This kitchen is so pretty....




I love the piano in the dining room....




LOVE.....





And this last picture has nothing to do with interior design in the least bit but I want to share it anyway. It's a new born hippo....



Yes, hippo. How fucking cute is that? Too bad they don't stay that small, lol.

Happy Friday, y'all.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

My birthday post might be a bit of a downer but...

Today is my birthday. I'm now 26 yet still get mistaken for being 18-22. Usually under 21. We went out Monday night to watch Game 6 of the Stanley Cup Playoffs and out of the table, I was the only one asked for an ID when ordering a drink. Yet I'm older than all but one of those people, lol. And it's not that the waitress knew them better or that they go there more. I just look young. Which I'm sure I'll be thankful for once I'm quite a few more years older. ;)

I'm having a hard time being excited about it, really. I usually love birthdays, always have. My grandpa died Thursday. His viewing and service was Saturday. He's being cremated today. It's just hard to be happy and excited for much right now, I miss him. And it's my first birthday I won't get a birthday card from him and my grandma. There was always just one, signed together.

I am proud of myself, though. I've kept true to what I said I would do. I've cried whenever I felt sad. I've laughed and shared good memories when I felt like doing so. I haven't been letting myself lay in bed and sleep more than I would because that always just makes me feel worse. I haven't been angry with myself and gone over every single time I could have visited or called when I didn't. I realize that no matter how much time I spent, in the end, it will always seem like it wasn't enough. I haven't and will continue to not dwell on that because doing so would be useless. He knew how much he meant to me and how much I loved him. I made sure I told him as much every time I saw him the last couple years as his health increasingly continued to worsen and worsen.

So later, after the service they're having this morning before he's cremated (something to do with his military background I believe, yay veterans respecting their deceased fellows) I think I'll try to do something fun tonight. The boyfriend has work and I'm not sure my family will be up for anything but that's what friends are for. Being a Wednesday it might be tough but I'm at least going to find a little something fun to do. I think he'd like me top carry on and do something pleasant, even if I am sad and missing him horribly.

Happy Wednesday y'all.

Monday, June 13, 2011

Rest In Peace, EHH.

*If I ramble at any point/points, I apologize.*

My grandpa's funeral service was Saturday the 11th.

He died Thursday morning. I knew it was coming. I knew Wednesday it would be soon because my mom wanted me to drive 90 minutes to where she lives and hang out at the house with my sister and youngest brother while she stayed at my grandparents house. I didn't mind and the Boyfriend and I headed out there.

Once I got to my mom's on Wednesday, I took my siblings to get dinner, we ate and watched movies. I checked my phone obsessively for the time. Thursday was my other brother's birthday and I had hoped that Grandpa would pass Wednesday just because I didn't want him to pass on my brother's birthday. Having someone you know die on your birthday sucks, especially when it's someone you're close with. And more so, he's been in pain for so long I was just hoping it would end finally. It didn't happen until 6 AM on the 9th, though. My mom called me. I hadn't been able to sleep at all Wednesday so I was still up, lounging in a recliner in the living room only halfway paying attention to whatever movie I had on. I knew what she would say before I answered the phone but I braced myself for it anyway. She had me go wake up my sister and younger brother to tell them. I don't think my sister had been asleep anyway, just laying there. And if she had, I could tell she knew as soon as I opened my mouth to tell her because really, why else would I be in there at that time?

I didn't cry during or after that phone call. I knew it was coming but that's not why I didn't cry. No matter how long you know, you still can't really be prepared for the moment when that phone rings. I've been dreading seeing my mom's name on my caller ID for months now. Every time she would call, I'd tense up and prepare for the news that he was gone. Each time, it wasn't that. Except for Thursday morning.

Yet, I didn't cry. The sun was rising and I decided to go outside to look at it. I love sunrise yet I don't often get to see them. So, I went outside and looked at the beautiful pink and orange sky. The sun a huge burning bright ball coming up on the horizon, a cool breeze barely there in the early morning. My sister followed me outside and we both walked down the road a little bit and took pictures of the sunrise. (My mom lives out in the country so there's a lot of open space and not a lot of people nor traffic.) There was something so beautiful about it. I find nature very calming in all honesty and that's the reason I went outside in the first place. When something upsets me in my life these days, I take a different approach to it quite often. No self-harm, drugs or crawling deep inside a liquor bottle. I go outside, I breathe in fresh air and I look at all the good that's still around me. I look at the sky, the trees, whatever is in front of me that isn't man made. It doesn't always calm me down a lot. Sometimes it's only a little bit but it's always enough, though. It centers me and I can think clearly, feel clearly. I don't know what it is and really, I don't try to figure it out. If it ain't broke.. ;)

We went to see my grandma on Friday. Growing up, I spent a lot of time with my grandparents. They would come for visits regularly. We got to spend weekends at their place on a regular basis. Spring breaks, weeks at a time during the summer. My brother J and I spent a lot of time with them and around them. I know I'm lucky for that because not everyone has grandparents as wonderful as mine. I was fortunate to be able to spend a lot of time around them and have them be so influential in my life.

That was their first time I had been in their house without Grandpa being there. It was weird. He retired at 65 and every time I remember being at their house, he was always there. I felt empty in a way, like a part of me was suddenly missing. My grandma had me in the back bedroom that used to be my grandfather's room within a couple minutes of me being there. She just wanted to talk and she started crying. I hugged her but I didn't cry. I looked around the room, still full with all of his stuff and it just struck me as odd that he wouldn't ever sleep in his bed or even walk in that room again. My dad came back there after a while and the three of us sat and talked for a while back there. Some serious stuff, some funny things that I hadn't ever known about.

We moved out of the room. There were a lot of family members there and I felt weird sitting in grandpa's room even though he hadn't used it in a while. He'd been very bad off and had taken to just sleeping in his recliner in the living room instead of his bed. I digress. I sat on the couch and people were chattering about this and that. Except Grandpa wasn't there in his chair in the corner chiming in with the occasional wise words, offhand comment, smart ass remark or just his two cents on whatever the topic was as he usually did.

The Rangers game was on. I watched a lot of sports with my grandpa growing up. In part, he's a big reason I got into sports because it was something to do with him and I honestly really enjoyed them, It was the first baseball game I'd watched in their house without him there. No shit talking the other team or no commenting on a good play that just happened.

I looked over at his chair (because it's where he always sat) several times. When it was empty, it was weird. He wasn't in the kitchen getting milk or some water. He wasn't in the bathroom. He hadn't gone to bed for the night. He wasn't up wandering around the house fiddling with anything. He just.... wasn't there. And at times, someone else would be sitting there. Which seemed weird because no one ever sat there except Grandpa.

Saturday was the viewing and then the service for Grandpa. Up until Saturday, I hadn't cried at all. It's not that I was trying to be tough and hold everything in; I wasn't. It had all just felt surreal to me up until Saturday morning. Even after being in my grandparents house, talking with everyone, almost everyone else crying, seeing and feeling everything I saw and felt; it just hadn't really sunk in yet. I kept thinking about it and I knew he was gone in a sense but it didn't feel real, final. Not until I was sitting on the bed trying to figure out if the Boyfriend could get his shift covered at work to go with me or not. I was sitting on the bed and we were trying to figure out what to, of we needed to take separate cars, if he could even go, etc.
I was explaining that I wanted to go to my grandparents for a bit before the viewing because a bunch of people were there already, just hanging out and spending time together. Trying to figure out if he wanted to come with me for that and only that, go to just the viewing, blah blah blah. Such simple decisions that I would normally be able to make and yet I suddenly felt so overwhelmed by making a simple decision. The Boyfriend asked me what I wanted him to do. And I felt like, right then, that everything came crashing down on me at once. It hit me what we were discussing and why we were discussing it and there it was. We were going to a viewing, to see my grandfather laying there lifeless. We were going to a service where an uncle I'd never met before was going to say a few words in honor of my grandfather because he was gone. I started sobbing then. I hate crying, honestly. It's hell on your body. It's raw and ugly. You may feel better afterward but you'll also be tired and feel horribly. Sometimes, you need to cry. And sometimes, you need to cry and to sob and to let your whole body feel it. My boyfriend just held me while I laid in our bed, tears streaming rapidly down my face, my body shaking as I sobbed. Those few minutes were so painful but felt so relieving, too.

There was more crying going on once we got to my grandparent's house. I didn't cry there. I didn't really feel anything except sadness for my grandmother right then. She looked so sad and I couldn't imagine how it must feel to lose someone you had spent 63 years of your life with.

I didn't know what to expect when we got to the viewing. I met relatives and family friends I had never met before. I got hugged by quite a few of them. "I'm so sorry, honey..." was said more than a couple times. And I didn't know what to say to that. I found out quickly that a simple nod worked fine because there's really nothing that needs to be said to that.

I didn't cry during the service until my little sister started crying. I don't know why that set me off but it did. My uncle was saying a few words and it was rather moving yet light and often times humorous. He was doing fine but he got choked up a little bit and that on top of seeing my sister, mom, aunts, grandma and other people crying just made me get teary eyed. No sobbing, just tears running down my cheeks.

Afterward, most of us went back to grandma's. We ate and talked and all just hung out.

My grandfather wasn't my first funeral, not even my first family member that passed. He was the one I was closest with. Anyone who has read my blog for long enough has read about my grandparents. I know it'll be tough getting used to him being gone. Even in this post, I realized I was still referring to it as my grandparent's home. When I was leaving on Saturday evening, I had to remind myself that grandma was the only one I had to hug and say goodbye to because he wasn't there anymore. Sunday, I was talking to another friend about him and I had to mentally stop myself from speaking about Grandpa in a sense as if he were still alive. It's all going to take some getting used to and I'm just taking it easy.

I know, I'm supposed to remember the good times I had with him. I have been. We talked and shared about some of our good memories as a family. I talked about them with my boyfriend and my best friend, too. I'm grateful that he was such a big part in my life and feel lucky that he was around so much for so long. I'm also just happy he's not suffering any longer. The last few years have been so rough, watching him get worse and worse. Alzheimer's is a terrible thing and it's hard on everyone close to that person as well. It's one of those bittersweet things where you're happy because something terrible has ended but so sad because you lost something very dear to you in the process. It's difficult. My birthday is on Wednesday, the 15th, and I'm far less interested/excited about it than I was a week ago. I can't let my life stop because of this and I won't but it's going to take a little time.

He was a good man. He was patient and caring. He rarely ever raised his voice and he never really got on to us when we were acting up. He wasn't a pushover by any means but he just had a quiet way of dealing with things. You knew what you could and couldn't get away with. He had a dry, sarcastic sense of humor which apparently just runs in the family. He worked hard. He was fun to be around, even when we just sat on the porch staring into the distance and chatting here and there. I always knew how interested he was in our lives and I never doubted how much he loved us.

I'll take the time to be sad when I feel sad and to cry when I want to cry. I'll probably always miss him and I'm sure there will be things that randomly happen that will make me think of him and make me sad. Just as there will be things that make me think of him and make me happy.
I'll always have my love for him and I'll always have all the wonderful memories of him.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Cutting, addiction, depression...

This is a very long post and I ramble here and there. Try to hang in there though, eh?

I saw someone post about their struggle with cutting and trying to quit yesterday on Tumblr only to see them being torn down by other people saying that people only cut because they want attention. Or because they're too scared to commit suicide.

A lot of people get something confused about cutting. They think cutting and suicide go hand in hand. That people who cut are all people who want to appear to want to kill themselves but don't really want to die. Or that they're people who want to die but don't "have the balls" to go through with it. It's not always like that.

I hate when people think someone suffering from depression just wants to stay miserable. That they're only unhappy and sad because they want to stay that way, because they like the attention it gets them. It's hard to understand for a lot of people who have never been there. I don't get how people think they can understand and judge every instance of something based on a singular experience or a preconceived notion.

I hate when people think addiction is something easy to overcome. "Just don't do it anymore." "If you really want to quit, then just do it."

It's so easy to look at something from the outside and judge it. To assess it and think you know how you would deal with it, what you would do and how easy it would be once you figure out what you need to do. It's always easier to say what you'll do when you're analyzing something you've never had to do. Judging what you don't know is stupid. Certain things, you can't understand when you've never been there. You can't say what you would do and you can't tell them what's best for them to do because you don't know. Judging and being an asshole never helps.

I used to cut. I didn't do it to try and kill myself nor did I do it hoping someone would see the scars and give me attention. In fact, I guarantee you that if most of the people that knew me were going to read this, they'd be surprised to learn that I cut. I cut on a regular basis. I did it quite a lot and did it for a long time. I only stopped a few years ago as a matter of fact. I'll get to that, later.

I was 15 the first time I cut myself. I was so miserable but I didn't really know why and I didn't have anyone I could really reach out to that would listen and think I was going through more than "normal" teenage angst. I needed some kind of outlet. I had drugs. People I worked with did drugs and I got stuff from them. Sometimes, being high wasn't enough. I sneaked booze from where my parents kept their liquor. That wasn't often enough. The first time I cut, it was late at night. I was crying and shaking. I just wanted to stop feeling like I did. I remember deciding that I'd cause myself physical pain just so I'd have some pain to focus on that wasn't emotional. I crept downstairs as quietly as I could. I looked carefully through the wide variety of kitchen knives my mom had. She had a lot., she's really into cooking and baking. I picked one that had a smooth blade and was plenty sharp. I couldn't decide where to cut but I knew it had to be somewhere no one could see. I didn't want anyone seeing the mark the next day and asking questions. I decided on my upper arm, laid the blade to my skin, took a deep breath, pressed and sliced open my skin. I remember it stinging then just hurting. I remember freaking out as drops of blood fell down to the kitchen floor, splattering the tiles. I remember scrambling to find something to clean up the blood splatters while trying not to make any noise. I sat on the floor after I used a wet paper towel to clean the blood splatters from the tile and decided to cut my arm twice more. Each time, it stung a bit more but I loved the feeling. I sat in the floor, back against the counter, enjoying the pain and focusing on that. I remember feeling like everything was in slow motion as I quietly cleaned the knife and put it away. It felt surreal as I cleaned my arm up after I got back into my room. I luckily had my own bathroom, vanity and walk in closet area so I didn't have to worry about anyone walking in on me to use the toilet in the middle of the night.

The next day, I felt like everyone I saw knew about the cuts I had on my arm. They were covered just fine by the shirt I had on but I was worried. I didn't want anyone to know. I didn't want to explain. And mostly, I didn't want to get caught because it meant I'd have to stop. I didn't want to stop what I had just started, especially when it gave me the release I was needing. It was the escape I was looking for. I felt better after doing it. I felt like I deserved the physical pain but promised myself I wouldn't do it all the time.

It started out that way; a few cuts in the middle of the night a couple times a month. I remember I was home alone one night while my family was out at the dirtbike track. I had a guy come over to hang out and ended up fooling around with him. I was nervous about him seeing the marks on my arms and realized I didn't want him to see them. I was afraid that he would tell people, people that knew my parents and then they would know. So, I turned out the lights and made sure it was so dark he wouldn't notice and didn't let him touch my arm since that was the only place I had been cutting.

When I was 17, we moved to South Texas. I got more into drugs there. Heavier drugs. Doing drugs and drinking more frequently. I cut less because I was high much more often. I'd started cutting my thighs. A few times when I was high and still felt miserable, I'd cut my forearm somewhere. Then the next day, I'd freak out and try to figure out how I'd hide it from everyone. I found creative ways to do it., Bulky jewelry, scarfs tied around my arm, lightweight long sleeved shirts even when it was too warm for them.

I remember I was over at my family's house one day. I was wearing basketball shorts and when I sat down, they went up above my knees. I didn't think about it because I forgot about the 7 jagged lines cut into my skin the night before just above my knees. My youngest brother saw them and asked me how I hurt myself. I panicked and quickly made up a stupid story about jumping a fence and getting scratched up from that. He was 9 at the time but he looked like he didn't believe me. I remember changing the subject really quickly and pulling my shorts down to cover the cuts.

My boyfriend at the time was also a cutter. He also smoked pot and drank a lot. We had an incredibly unhealthy relationship because, to summarize, we were both really fucked up and had a lot of issues. I talked to him about my cutting and ironically, we both cut less while we were together. It was a weird bond to have with someone but we both understood why the other one did it and we both hid it from everyone around us. That's actually the thing that made him open up to me more, he felt like he could tell me anything because I not only didn't judge his cutting but I understood. I used drugs more but I cut less. In my mind, it seemed like a good trade off. I might have been high quite frequently and using a scary amount of stuff but hey, I went months at a time without taking a knife to my skin. That logic is stupid to me and also shouldn't be deemed logic but I digress.

We moved back up to the Dallas area when I was 19. I was off drugs by then. I'd broken up with my boyfriend that I had the ridiculously unhealthy relationship with for several reasons and moved back into my parents house. I quit drugs 2 months before we moved back up from South Texas due to an incident where I almost killed myself. If not for my best friend taking me to get my stomach pumped, I likely would have died then. Getting off drugs was hard for me. I used daily and then just stopped the day after I got my stomach pumped.

I was really unhappy and very confused. I started cutting more often again. Which was harder to pull off as we were living in an apartment now, just my mom, youngest brother, sister and myself. The floors made too much noise when I tried to creep across them and the kitchen drawers made squeaky noises. I was terrified of getting caught and having to explain why I was looking through kitchen knives when I wasn't cooking or doing anything in the kitchen. So, I used razorblades in the bathroom for a couple weeks. I didn't like those. The cuts were smaller and didn't hurt as much as the ones I did with the kitchen knives. So I sneaked into the kitchen one day and grabbed three knives. I stashed them in my bedroom and then used them all until I figured out which one I wanted to keep in there. I figured three knives missing might be noticed. If my mom did notice them disappearing for a few days, she never said anything.

I kept the knife in my room and would sneak into the bathroom with it whenever I wanted to cut. I can remember so many nights where I sat in the bathroom, crying with blood running down my arm or thigh.

I met S, who is my current boyfriend of 5 years now, a short time after moving back to the Dallas area at 19. We had only known each other for a few months when we decided we would move to California to live with my dad and other brother there. S is amazing. We kept in contact after I left and eventually got to a point where we talked multiple times a day, every day. We would spend hours on the phone at times. He also cut but not as much as I did. He was in therapy and on medications, trying to work through his issues. In talking to him, I realized I had a lot of shit I needed to work out. I stopped cutting and started trying to figure out what was wrong with me. Why I felt the way I did.

I moved back to Dallas and S and I have been together since then. Our 5th year together was this past May. I worked through some of my issues, but.... I still cut from time to time up until I was 23. S and I would fight, I'd get upset and not know what to do. I'd lash out at him, say things I didn't mean. I'd hurt him emotionally and then I'd hate myself for it and go hurt myself physically by cutting. S would get angry with me for doing that. He wanted me to stop. I tried to hide it from him but there wasn't a way to keep him from seeing the cuts on my body. And a lot of the time, he didn't even need to see the cuts to know I had done it.

I stopped cutting and started drinking. A lot. I could drink whole bottles of liquor and not be blackout drunk. I drank ridiculous amounts of booze and was so out of control of my own life and didn't really care to fix it. There were several things that had happened to me that fucked me up and put me into an even worse mental and emotional state. Instead of dealing with them, I just ignored them and buried myself in a bottle. Until there was an intervention because a friend of mine reached out and told my mom about my drinking being out of control. The intervention never went beyond one night where I had a long discussion with my mom, S, a cousin and my two youngest siblings. I felt attacked and was so angry by the end of the night. I ended up cutting and sobbing later. I remember feeling so drained and so tired mentally and emotionally. I contemplated suicide again that night and realized I really didn't want to die. I just wanted to get better and not hurt so much anymore.

I told S I wanted to get control of my drinking and stop cutting. I didn't want to be that person anymore. I actually made a list of issues I needed to face and worked through them that way. I was so overwhelmed at first I broke down and thought I'd never overcome the things I needed to. The list helped because I could take them on one by one and not feel overwhelmed. I worked hard at facing my issues and overcoming them. That included the cutting. That was one of the hardest things to get a handle on because I'd done it for so many years. It had been almost like a habit. I always knew if I needed that rush, that outlet, that painful way to feel better that I always had it at my fingertips.

I've got my drinking under control and I haven't cut myself in almost 3 years. I'm in a really good place in my life and for the first time in my life, I'm very happy. I owe a lot of that to S for being there for me. For not judging me when I opened up to him. For being supportive when I needed him to be. It was incredibly hard to open up to him and let him see those parts of me. It's difficult to let someone see the parts of you that you've hidden for so long. The ugly things about you that you don't even like. Especially when that someone is important to you and you're afraid that telling them you suffer from anxiety, depression, cutting and other things will scare them away. Or make them judge you. It's hard and scary to put yourself out there and be that vulnerable to someone.

It's also difficult to speak out to a larger audience about subjects like this. People will always get self-righteous. People will always think they know better. People will always judge. And people will always try to pick apart what you're saying and tear you down. All you can do with those people is ignore them. It's not worth it to let those people get you down. I still get mad when I see someone picking on someone for trying to reach out to get some help or even just some comfort knowing someone out there understands what they're going through. I'm a strong enough person that I don't give a damn about the negative people out there who get pathetic enjoyment out of tearing someone down and making them feel worse. Not everyone is like that, though. If you're one of those people who likes to do that, think about what you're doing. To you, that person online might just seem like an attention seeker but you don't know that and if they are, just ignore them. Some people do just want the attention and like to cause drama. Some people really have problems and really do need to reach out to someone. Not everyone has someone in their life they can turn to and open up to and if they have people tearing them down and laughing at them when they try to reach out to someone, they're less likely to try and reach out again.

People need to stop being so judgmental. You shouldn't assume you know what someone is going through and shouldn't tear them down because of a preconceived notion about a disorder, a habit, etc. And if someone reaches out to you, try to be constructive. You don't have to agree with what they're doing but making fun of them isn't the answer. Making their problem seem like it isn't a big deal doesn't help either. Sure, there are people in the world with worse problems but it doesn't mean their are irrelevant and should be overlooked because of that. I know some subjects are uncomfortable to deal with and you may not know how to help someone even if you are comfortable with the subject. Tearing them down, making fun of them, negatively judging someone or telling them their problem is irrelevant isn't going to help. And if doing those things make you feel better, you might need to evaluate yourself a little bit and figure out why being a cruel person makes you feel better.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Wordless Wednesday: Random Pictures





































Psst, I didn't take any of these pictures. Just random images I found and have posted on my Tumblr and decided to gather up a mixed collection and post them here since a lot of y'all don't look at my Tumblr page. ;)

Happy Wednesday!