Vulnerability.

I've blogged about therapy twice in recent weeks. One a long post with lots of details and the other a shorter piece with lots of talk about feelings and things of a deeply personal nature.

Yet I didn't post either of them. They're both saved as drafts but I'm not sure I'll ever post either of them. If I don't hit publish, then I essentially just wrote something as if it were in a pen and paper journal. No one will see it but it's still there and as long as it's sits in draft mode, I can go back and read it whenever I want. I think sometimes, I just need to write things out for myself. And there's something comforting knowing I can go back and read over my thoughts again knowing that they're out of my head but still my own privately.

The thing I've always loved most about writing is that I never police myself here. In this space, it's easy for me to say the things that I might struggle to get passed my lips. I know if I hit publish, some people are going to read it. Even some people I know in my real life are going to read it. It doesn't bother me, though. I'm not sitting in front of them as they're reading it. I'm not engaged in a dialog via text message telling someone these things, waiting for a reply. I'm relaying my thoughts and feelings to people but it's not a direct form of communication so I don't get that same vulnerable feeling that I hate. It's not judgment I fear from others because that I can deal with. Making myself feel vulnerable in front of another person, I struggle with that and like to try to avoid it as much as humanly possible. Which is something I'm working on being better about but I'm not there yet.

Writing things out here doesn't erase all the vulnerability, though. At times, when I'm writing about things that are deeply personal, I still feel a little vulnerable because I think it's near impossible to not feel some slight sense of vulnerability when you're writing about something deeply personal. When it's something that's hard for you, something that's hurt you or caused you grief, it's hard to write about those experiences without feeling raw about it. 

When I write specifically about my mental health or my friend's suicide or my grandfather's death (as a few examples), sometimes I want to erase things I've put down because they feel too personal. I rarely actually do that, though. As much as I hate feeling vulnerable, sometimes it feels really liberating to let go of whatever is making me feel that way. Even if I just letting go through words on a screen. 

Words.

You can turn the same words over in your head a hundred times, repeating them like a mantra, hoping one more time will make them sink in. If you say them to yourself enough times, you'll adjust to them, accept their truth and begin digesting what they really mean.

But sometimes, it takes speaking those words out loud to make them glow bright and real.

Even though the biggest part of you understands the reality of the situations you find yourself in, there's always some part holding on to hope, holding on to the idea that it's not real. Maybe you're just having a nightmare that feels like it has gone on forever but then you'll wake up and order is restored and everything is alright again. Not perfect because life never is.

Words are rarely ever "just words" without meaning. They're representative of thoughts, feelings, emotions, memories and events. Even words said without thought aren't entirely without meaning.

No matter how many times you've said these words over to yourself, trying to force them to stick, sometimes it takes saying them to another person to make the realization sink in. To make it real. It takes hearing the noise leaving your lips for that blow to come followed by that wave of clarity that lets you know you're not just stuck in a nightmare.

Death and the ugly side of curiosity.

On June 15th, long after I got home from celebrating my birthday and Father's Day with my family, I was laying in bed thinking about what time I needed to be up in the morning. My boyfriend walked in with his phone clutched in his hands and it was one of those moments you just knew something wasn't right. I asked what was wrong and he just handed me his phone and laid down next to me wrapping an arm around me. I read the words on the screen but I couldn't make sense of them. So I read them again. And then a third time. Then I read the names three more times because I was in shock. My friend and her ex had been found dead in what had been the home they shared together up until a few weeks ago when she had begun moving out.

I sat there staring at the words on the screen trying to make sense of it. It was Sunday night. She had been fine Friday. We were having a party on the 21st that she was coming to and was excited about. Instead, my Saturday started by going to her memorial service. That wasn't the way I was supposed to see her that day but that's how it worked out.

Her death made the local news. I went into work the morning after I found out and told my boss what happened so he would understand the mood I was in. He offered to let me go back home and have the morning off. I declined. I needed the distraction and needed to keep focused on something else. Anything else. My co-workers there that day found out from my boss and were supportive and respectful.

As the days passed and a few more details emerged, some of my co-workers and acquaintances decided to start speculating about what may have happened. The death was a murder-suicide so there are so many things left unanswered and unknown. I know people like to talk and speculate about things like this so I avoided news stories and tons of things posted on Facebook and Twitter. I asked my co-workers not to talk about it in front of me.

I learned a new lesson about death. One of the worst things about a friend's death getting media coverage is so many people want to talk to you about it. They'll give you space at first but then they'll get curious and they'll want to talk to you. Because you knew them and maybe you know something that's not mentioned. They'll offer their opinion on what they think happened, an opinion that's based on nothing. Or worse they'll try to pry details out of you like you're just a vault of secrets. Most don't even care that you're hurting, that you're grieving. Their own curiosity is more important than how you're feeling. Some will even get annoyed when you refuse to discuss it. How dare you put your pain ahead of their curiosity! The story was on the news and in the paper so how could I not want to discuss every tantalizing detail?

To them, it's a news story and they're emotionally detached from it. It's something to solve and try to figure out. It's interesting despite the circumstances being unpleasant. So they ask questions and offer scenarios and opinions and want to discuss the whole ordeal with you because you have a better grasp of things and more knowledge of what's going on. It's not because they care, it's just human nature to be curious. Discussing the details and listening to speculation is really the last thing I want to do. To me, I'm sad. I'm angry. I'm confused. I feel lost. I'm aching to understand, to make some form of sense of why this happened not because I'm curious but because if I could just understand, I could cope better. I'll never know more than I know now. I'll never know how things played out and I'll never know why this happened. It's crushing in a way that sudden deaths usually are. I don't find the mystery of all the unknowns interesting; I find them heartbreaking and feel them like heavy rocks weighing me down.

I've had countless people attempt to pry for more details after I've said I don't want to discuss what was on the news. I've had many more offer opinions that I didn't ask for despite me saying I didn't want to discuss it. I've had people try to tell me how I'm supposed to feel and think about my friend because they saw the story.

I understand curiosity, I really do. I'm a very curious person myself. However, I also understand being a decent, respectful human being and understand putting a person's feelings ahead of my own. I've been on the other side of a situation similar to this. Prying and offering speculation to a person directly affected never even crossed my mind. Support was all that I offered because I wanted to help, not do something to make things worse or make them feel worse than they already did. Explaining that concept to people has been exhausting. And it's mostly co-workers, acquaintances and friends of friends. It baffles me that someone would be annoyed or angered by a grieving person not wanting to discuss or speculate about the death of someone they cared about. It's confusing and enraging that a few have even acted like I owe it to them to discuss it.

Unexpected death is hard enough to deal with without having to deal with people you know and others you hardly know pushing you for details and/or offering their opinions on the situation because they saw this here and read that there and that lead them to this conclusion because. I appreciate everyone that's offered their support and respected my wishes to not discuss things. I appreciate that so much more now than I did a week ago because so many people just don't understand or don't care enough not to pry and push.

It's not hard to be decent and respectful. It's not hard to think of how someone else is feeling in a situation where they've lost someone they cared for unexpectedly. Especially when they're telling you how they're feeling and telling you that you're overstepping. It's not difficult to be kind and put their pain ahead of your own desire to feed your curiosity, your desire to know. At least it shouldn't be.

Death Of A Loved One.

“That was the thing. You never got used to it, the idea of someone being gone. Just when you think it's reconciled, accepted, someone points it out to you, and it just hits you all over again, that shocking.” -Sarah Dessen

Today marks the third year since my grandfather passed away. I didn't think I'd cry today because the days leading up to it, I was fine, unlike the previous two years. I thought that meant I must finally be okay with it. I know I'll always miss him but I thought maybe I was finally to a point where I wouldn't cry over it anymore. I woke up this morning and I heard thunder and pouring rain. That seemed fitting and comforting because the sound of a storm always comforts me. I laid in bed and thought of thunderstorms that happened while at my grandparents house and how sometimes, they'd let us go out and play in the rain if it wasn't a dangerous storm. I smiled and got up to start my day. I felt the familiar dull ache I always feel in my chest when I think of him being gone but still, I didn't think I'd cry. 

I hate to cry and I rarely do it. It's not that it makes me feel weak or silly or anything like that and I don't actively try to prevent it from happening. It just takes a lot to bring me to tears. I used to feel bad about that because I felt like something was wrong with me. I've moved passed that. If it happens, I let it happen. I just dislike feeling that vulnerable, that open, even if I'm by myself. I also never feel better after I cry. I know so many people that talk about how cathartic crying is but I don't feel that. I always feel worse and I'm not sure why. 

So today when I heard a song that's about a man singing about his pain and grief over losing the man he loved and respected and trying to cope with that, I didn't try to stop the tears that spilled from my eyes and streamed down my face. I was happy I was in line at the bank drive-thru at the time and not back at the shop because crying in front of people is awkward. I didn't try to stop myself from crying again when I was putting my groceries in my car after work and I happened to look up and oddly see an older gentleman who looked a lot like my grandfather. As much as I hate crying and even though it doesn't really ever make me feel better, holding it in is much worse.

I think too many people get caught up in trying to move on and file away their sad feelings into a place where they can't bother them anymore. Maybe that works for them. That's all you can do, be honest with yourself and find what works for you and do it. Myself, I can't always focus on the good things and sometimes, I need to be sad about something. It's okay to get sad once in a while over losing someone you love, no matter how many years have passed. You can't let that grief and sadness consume you because it will act like a wildfire in dry brush, it was spread quickly and overwhelm you. It will swallow you whole and won't think twice about it. There's a balance and sometimes it's a very delicate line. 

People always say that time will heal all wounds. That time passing is all that really helps you move on from losing someone you love. In part, that's true. It doesn't happen over night. It never happens as quickly as we like it to. It took me a year before I could change the phone contacts in my cell phone from "grandma and grandpa" to just "grandma." It took me even long to stop referring to it as "grandma and grandpa's" house when I'd say that's where I was going. He died June 9th (which unfortunately also happens to be one of my brother's birthdays) and Father's Day in 2011 happened 10 days later. That year, seeing all the "grandfather" cards out for Father's Day felt like a harsh kick to the gut and I ended up leaving Target a sobbing mess because it hurt to much to think about him being gone. A year later, it was a weird realization that I wouldn't need a Father's Day card for him because holy damn it had been a whole year already. I read some anyway and remember getting sad because I'd never need another card for him again. I'd never get another hug after he read whatever sweet but cheesy thing that card said. Sometimes, it's weird things that set you off. Time does make it easier because those things that felt gut wrenching the first few months on up to the first year didn't sting as sharply. You don't cry as easily. You still miss them but the mass that's made up of all the pain and grief is smaller, duller, not as bright, not as sharp.

It's good to focus on the happy things and the good memories you have of someone and I'm lucky to have a lot of good memories and things to laugh and smile about. Sharing stories and memories helps. It brings you closer to the other people who loved the one you loved. You bond in a way that you don't bond with anyone else because you're sharing thoughts and feelings that they truly understand. It's good to remember the positives but it doesn't fully take away the pain of losing them, doesn't help the ache you feel inside when you miss them and doesn't fix the piece of you that feels like it's gone now. I've come to realize that just because the wound of losing a loved one is healed doesn't mean it never hurts you anymore. You just get better at living with it.

“It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things.” -Lemony Snicket

You'll be missed.

I hate writing about sad stuff but I need to get this out somewhere. I'm not good at talking about things like this and honestly don't have that many people I can talk to anyway. Writing always helps when words fail me verbally though.

These amazing photos of bears in the wild were taken by a talented and wonderful man, Philip Perdue.

I met Philip because he was friends with my boyfriend Shane and had been for years. Phil was one of the first member of Shane's car club that made me feel welcome and included me into their diverse group of members.

His talent with photography and the often very amusing stories that went along with the photos he took were one of the things I liked most about him. He had a passion for capturing the world through photograph and he was good at it.

I admired how upbeat & optimistic he was no matter what life tossed at him. He had some things he was fighting through and some days were enough to put most people into grumpy spirits. He rarely let anything get him down, though.

He had a great sense of humor. A little (ok a lot) weird at times but the man never failed to make me and those around him laugh their asses off.

As a free spirit myself, I can always recognize and appreciate that in someone else. I admired that in him.

Phil was one of the most genuinely nice guys anyone could ever be fortunate enough to know.
He was the kind of guy always ready to lend a helping hand to anyone who needed one without ever keeping score or expecting anything in return. He had such kind heart and so much joy to give.

Last night as I was getting off of a long 10 hour shift at work, my boyfriend called me from work crying. I was automatically worried something was wrong with him but he had just found out from a good mutual friend he shared with Phil that Phil had died unexpectedly. I was stunned to say the least. We had just gone through the death of a family friend a little over a week ago when the mother of one of the goalies on my brother's hockey team passed away unexpectedly and now this. I stayed on the phone with my boyfriend the remainder of his break then just sat in my car letting the news about Phil sink in. I ended up driving around a little bit then went to the boyfriend's job so I could be with him on his lunch break to offer comfort and maybe a few laughs. I didn't cry until I got home that night. I pulled into the driveway and the sky was so pretty with a few stars barely peeking through clouds. I thought of Phil and how much he loved photography and of a conversation we had about how gorgeous the night skies in Northern California were on clear nights. Then I sat there sobbing and realizing I'd never see him again. I'd never have another conversation, never hear his goofy laugh, never hear another story about a trip he went on to take amazing photos with crazy mishaps. Shane had wanted him to be the photographer at our wedding (we do plan to get married eventually) but now he won't be there walking around smiling his big goofy grin with his camera, making jokes and capturing so many moments through photograph.

He was always so friendly and genuinely nice to everyone. Until you did wrong to anyone he cared for, then he wasn't such a gentle teddy bear. He was loved and liked by so many, he will be greatly missed.

I'll miss that quirky little man with the big heart and goofy grin.

RIP Phil.

Mind fucks aren't fun at all..

Before I get to the actual part of this post where I say random stuff that you weirdos enjoy reading for some reason, let me be annoying and mention two things for the 123rd time so far this month.

First things first, if you haven't seen the Toys for Tots Fundraiser I'm doing (somehow, maybe you don't follow me on Twitter and haven't been here before ;]) then check that out here. It's a great cause and a donation of just a few dollars goes a long way. ;)

Second, there's a contest going on around here for a $25 gift card to Target. You don't have to make the $5 minimum donation for an entry into the contest because there are other ways to get entries that don't cost you more than some of your online time but a donation will get you can extra entry for the gift card. For the rules for the super easy contest, check it here.

Now on to my ramblings.

I organized a food drive late last week and had a couple of my friends help me out with it. I asked around and they volunteered so yay for having helpful friends. We managed to gather up 93 pounds of food from co-workers, neighbors, other friends, etc for the North Texas Food Bank which I delivered yesterday. I know if you have a lot of canned goods, that's not a lot. Out of curiosity, I asked, and only 29 lbs of that was made up from canned goods. See, I bother my real life friends with charity stuff too. ;) While I was delivering our haul, I ran into a friend I haven't seen in around 9 years. We used to work together when we were teenagers and I'm surprised she recognized me. I was heading back to my car when I heard someone from the sidewalk call my name out. We talked for about 5 minutes before she leaned in and asked me if I still got high then without waiting for an answer asked me if I wanted to go hang out back at her apartment because she had some "good stuff" as well as some good pot back there. I declined because I stopped doing the kind of drugs she was talking about almost 8 years ago. I did have a minor lapse with weed a few years ago but it's been 3 years and 2 months since I've done that. I work really hard to not fall back into old habits because I'm unable to use substances "once in a while." If I start, it's an every day or almost every day thing and I won't let myself be like I was ever again because I wasn't a functional, happy person then. I politely declined my former friends invite and for some reason, she got mad. She asked if I could give her a ride and I asked if she had any drugs on her. "Just a little heroin, no big deal" was her reply to that. I declined giving her a ride but offered to give her money for the bus that was pulling off. She took that and handed me a card with her cell phone information on it. Then informed me she also worked as a dealer so if I changed my mind... Sigh.

That whole interaction actually really fucked with my head. I started thinking too much about the person I used to be. The people I hung out with, the people I ignored but shouldn't have, the relationships I ruined, the multiple ways I just utterly fucked my life up... and instead of focusing on the fact that I'm not that person anymore, that I learned from those mistakes and that I made my life better; I let them swallow me and I felt suffocated by things and emotions that don't have a place in my life anymore. It's not like our passed is ever just gone but I don't live in the passed. Things happen, they shaped the things I did and got me to where I am and there's no sense dwelling on choices made that can't be changed or undone. I've never done that so the feelings I was having yesterday were almost foreign to me because I don't worry about things that are long since done. I didn't really know how to get out of the mood I was in. I wanted to talk to my friend Rob who has known me for over 10 years and knew me back when I was a much bigger mess than I am now but I knew he's been sick and didn't want to bother him. I wanted to talk to my boyfriend whom I met while I was in the process of trying to put my life and self in some kind of order but he works from 7 pm till 4 or 5 am and I can only reach him on breaks anyway. So instead, I didn't talk to anyone and decided I'd write about it. Which didn't help because I couldn't make the words in my head come out right on paper. I went to the gym and decided I'd work out because physical activity helps me when I'm stressed out or feeling bad. Sometimes it does anyway. I'm usually able to clear my head and focus more while working out and last night's session helped a lot. Now writing it out like this is helping because I finally got the words out that I wanted out and got back to realizing who I am and where I'm at in life which is far from where I used to be. And that's a good thing because that girl was an extremely unhappy, angry, self-destructive mess.

As an aside, there was a guy at the gym on the row of treadmills in front of me. While running he was playing something on his cell phone. He some how got so involved in whatever was on his phone that he lost his footing, tripped, smacked his face on the grip bar you ca hold on to, then fell down off the treadmill. He wasn't hurt. He actually laid there looking stunned and then started laughing. The girl next to me asked if I thought he legit was being a dumb ass or if I thought it was some kind of hidden camera show stunt going on. I said I honestly believed the guy was just being a moron and had an accident occur due to his stupidity. She disagreed and thought hidden camera show was more like it. She didn't want to be on "no damn reality hidden camera TV show" because she "don't look no damn good on TV" which she knew because she was on the news once after some kind of storm had happened and she looked "a fool" apparently. So she said she was going to go check for hidden cameras or a TV crew before she could finish her workout. I thought she was joking but she wasn't. She went around the gym checking for hidden cameras and asking the two employees there at that hour about if they knew anything about hidden camera shows. She even asked the treadmill guy if he was aware of anything. She eventually got satisfied that nothing fishy was going on but then left anyway just in case everyone was in on it. That weird incident also put me in a better mood because the entire thing amused the hell out of me.

That's enough out of me. Thanks for still reading and thanks for the emails many of you send always checking up on me when I'm not around much. I appreciate it. :)

Also thanks for those of you that have donated to the Toys for Tots fundraiser and thanks to those who have helped me promote the fundraiser. Even if it is just because you're trying to win that gift card, I still appreciate the effort and help behind it so much. :) <3 nbsp="nbsp">

Happy Thursday!

It's been a year since he died..

Today is the birthday of one of my younger brothers. He turns 26 today. I turn 27 on June 15th making me not even a full year older than he is. He lives in Northern California so I won't see him today. I can't exactly remember the last time we celebrated birthdays together though it was at some point when I lived out in California years ago. 

Today is also the date that makes it one year since our grandfather passed away. I remember sitting in my aunt's living room, we knew his time was getting closer and all I could hope for was that he would pass before midnight struck on the 8th or hold on for another day so he didn't pass on my brother's birthday. I know it seems like a silly thing to hope for but no one wants the day of their birth, a day most people celebrate, to be a day that is also marked as the loss of someone you love who was an important person in your life. You can celebrate their life, remember the good times, all that stuff but it still hurts. There's no amount of happy memories and laughter that can fill that void where that person used to be. Those things just make it easier to deal with.


I sat in my aunt's living room and after the clock was passed midnight, I knew it wouldn't be much longer. Maybe I was just bracing myself for it to happen, I don't know. I didn't sleep much. I was tired but I felt restless. Around 6 AM, we got the news, he was gone. I remember feeling like I needed to cry but being unable to. In a way, I was happy he wasn't in pain anymore and it was hard at that moment to be sad about him dying because I knew he wasn't suffering anymore for the first moment in a long time.I went outside and watched the sun rise for the first time in a long time. I remember I kept thinking that maybe I was dreaming because everything felt so surreal right then. I was thinking that maybe this wasn't really happening, maybe I'd wake up and everything would be fine. It didn't take long for me to snap out of that and fall in to feeling numb. I didn't want to cry or feel sad so I just tried to feel nothing and focused more on other things. I do that a lot. I'm not an overly emotional person and dealing with emotions that aren't anger is so hard for me. Being emotional around other people, even if it's family, is also very hard for me. I have a hard time opening up like that. 


I really can't believe it's been a year. It gotten easier to deal with as more time went by, though. I know most people don't see their grandparents often but I grew up seeing mine often and they were both a big influence on my life. I grew up looking up to my grandpa. I admired him so much. I don't cry much over his passing anymore but I've never been much of a crier. I do still occasionally get hit with sadness and it always happens over things that I wouldn't expect to make me think of and miss him.

Sometimes when I find myself missing him, I sit out on front porch and just look out at the stars and clear my head or think about happy memories I have with him. And I have so many good memories with him. He used to sit out on the porch all the time and I used to like to sit out there with him when I was taking a break from playing or doing something. Sometimes we talked, sometimes we would just sit quietly. Granted, the sitting quietly never lasted long for me. I learned more from him than I ever realized and more than he probably ever thought he'd passed on to me. He was a great man and I'm happy I was lucky enough to have him be such a part of my life. I still miss him but then again I probably always will.

10 months ago today, we lost you...

Today makes it 10 months since my grandpa died. He had so many things he battled through and overcame. War. Cancer. Alzheimer's though, he couldn't shake that, sadly. It's horrible to watch someone you love be slowly taken over by such a horrible disease.

When I started thinking about it today, I had the idea to make it a blog post so I'd have somewhere to voice all the thoughts I was having. Now that I'm sitting here typing this, it's difficult to find the words I want to share. The thoughts are still there, it's just sharing them, typing them out? It seems so odd still to write about how I feel now that he's gone. There are things I want to say, things I feel would help me if I could say them out loud but, I can't bring myself to because they seem so personal. Like they're meant to just be my thoughts or memories, not to be shared with anyone, even though I think it would help to voice some of those feelings.

I have a few things of his that are mine now. My grandma wanted us all to have something of his. I have the watch he wore every day. I remember days where I'd sit in his lap in the recliner in his house and I'd randomly ask him what time it was. He'd show me that watch and ask me what time it was. I remember how grown up and special it seemed to me then to wear a watch and was excited when my mom let me get my first watch. She probably doesn't even remember it but I do. It was a cheap little watch, the type with the plastic clasp and rubber band with a cartoon character on it. Now I have that watch I show him wear every time I saw him. The watch I always asked to look at because the face was so big and it seemed so fancy to me at the time because I didn't have anything like it. It mostly stays in it's box now but sometimes I take it out. I've worn it a few times but it doesn't fit well and the face takes up most of my wrist. Sometimes when I really miss him, it helps to wear it. I think because it just brings back happy memories of him for me.

Another thing she gave me where a pair of his cufflinks. He had so many pairs and they're all so pretty. The pair she gave me have a pair of gemstones in them, tiger's eye to be exact. They're very pretty. They also just sit in their box but sometimes I like to look at them. I remember when he used to dress nice for family events. He usually just wore coveralls all the time so when he was dressed in something different, it was always a little surprising to me. I'd always expect him to come over and be in those coveralls but when he was dressed up, he looked like a snazzy business man to me.

We spent so much time there growing up. They visited often. I grew up thinking for a while that every kid saw their grandparents as much as we did. I learned pretty quickly that wasn't the case and that not every kid even liked to have theirs around. Mine, I loved having around and was always happy when they came to visit for the day or came to take my brother and I home for the weekend. Or longer during Spring Break and Summer.

My grandma wasn't strict but she had certain things she didn't like us getting in to. One of the things was a little wooden train that sit in the floor with a couple other things. She used to hate us playing with that little wooden train. It wasn't a toy but myself and all the grand kids like to play with it. I always had a love for locomotives so I especially loved playing with it. We'd drag it out when grandma wasn't around, trying not to get caught with it. Then we usually did. Then she'd tell us that it wasn't a toy and to put it back up. Then always, right on cue, grandpa would interject and tell her to leave me or whomever was playing with it alone. She'd say it's not a toy. He'd say, "it's just a wooden train, let 'em alone with it." And she did.

I know I'll always miss him. Especially since he was such a part of my life and I looked up to and respected him so much. I miss our chats on the front porch. I miss his random comments when no one thought he was paying attention to the conversation. I miss his blunt honesty. I miss hugging him and hearing him call me sugar. He's the only person who could get away with calling me that because from anyone else, I can't stand that pet name. I at least have a lot of happy memories with him and can focus on those when I'm sad and thinking about him. And mostly, I know he's not confused and in pain and suffering anymore. I know he'll never read this but I always hope I did a good enough job of letting him know that I appreciated and loved him very much. I don't torture myself with thinking about things I could have done or times I could have spent because at the end, you'll always find things you should have or could have done differently. All you can do is hopefully be happy with what was done and I really am. So while I'm sad and thinking about him today more than other days where I think about and miss him, I'm also a little happy, too. Emotions really are such a complex thing.

Self-examination of the mental variety...

I have been doing a lot of thinking lately about a few things. Of course, I won't go into detail about what exactly those things are. Not yet anyway. That would make for a really long blog post and it would also likely be rather chaotic and wouldn't make much sense.

I've always been fascinated by the human brain and psychology, even before I really knew what either was. Your mind is such a beautiful, complicated thing. It also has the capacity to be a raging nightmare. Especially when you let things creep in and humor thoughts and ideas you know you probably shouldn't. It's a funny thing how so many thoughts and feelings people have that are harmful to themselves could be avoided by just not playing "what if" with oneself. Yet, people do it all the time anyway. Sometimes, letting something go is easy. Other times, it's harder to accept something for what it is. So, you poke and prod at it. Sometimes that makes it better and sometimes it makes it worse. Clarity and peace of mind versus chaos and confusion.

It's weird how a single event can change so much about the way you think and react to things. Of course, something traumatic happens to you and people tell you to expect changes. To expect things to be different. No one can tell you what that means because it's different for everyone. So you have this feeling of uncertainty surrounding you all the time, wondering what it is that will change because even you don't know right away. Sure, there are immediate things you notice. But then there's more. Then there's things that just happen slowly and you see them differently, react differently, contemplate them in new ways you hadn't before. And truly, that's not always a good thing.

Sometimes I wonder about why certain things happen to people. Is it some sort of personal test for them? Is it one of those cruel lessons that hurts but needed to be learned anyway? Is it to show them how much they can handle or how easily they could break? Or maybe just pure bad luck? I have issue with that because I believe in karma but I don't necessarily believe in luck. I always just think of luck, good or bad, as the result of karma more so than something that exists on it's own, freely.

In the end, I wonder if it's less about the events that happen to us and more about the way we react to them. The way we cope. The event itself has it's role to play, certainly. Everything in this world has it's own role to play. I think sometimes the more important thing to focus on is how you feel after an event and how you plan to counter. Not necessarily meaning revenge or anything like that, either. How you plan to counter the effects of the event. Life is full of actions and reactions. A lot of the actions people have no control over because shit just happens sometimes. Reactions, you can almost always be in control of, however.

Which lead me to thinking about some of the stuff I've been going through lately and my own reactions. I'm in kind of a weird place right now, both physically in this point in my life and in my head space. There's so much going on and I understand so little of it. And lately, I don't care much to try and figure any of it out. Which is so unlike me that it's scary. It wasn't until today that I realized how little I've cared to contemplate anything going on and that realization struck me hard. It was strange. I don't know why I've become complacent because that's something I've never been. I don't know why I've elected to just ignore things. Not in hopes that they'll go away but just because I'd apparently rather ignore them then deal with them. Which is also very unlike me. I've given up on some things and stopped caring about other things. Things I shouldn't give up on stop caring about. I've let some things get me down more than I should have.

So, now that I've taken off my own blinders to the person I've been here lately, I know I have some work to do and know I need to stop ignoring things because this version of myself? It's not me and I really don't like her very much. Though, outwardly I'm sure most people haven't noticed a difference because most of what's been different hasn't really effected my personality too much. It's more internal than that and since none of you (thankfully for you) live or even get to visit inside my head, I'm fairly confident there's very little differences outwardly.

Anyway, enough of that. This post was more for me to just clear my head a little and put it out there to, in a way, make myself more accountable for the things I need to work on within myself. Though, If anyone did read all of that, thank you. ;)

National Self-Injury Awareness Day

March 1st is National Self-Injury Awareness Day. This is a subject I feel deeply about as I have a lot of personal experience with it. In this post, the only things I will be talking about is Self-Harm Awareness and my own personal experiences with it. The first half of the post is mostly information and awareness on self-harm, the second half is where things get personal. It's a really long post but please take the time to read it. Self-harm is a more serious issue than people tend to realize and isn't something that should be taken lightly or treated as if it were just a minor annoyance instead of an actual problem that needs to be addressed.

From the American Self-Harm Information Clearinghouse:

"Approximately 1% of the United States population uses physical self-injury as a way of dealing with overwhelming feelings or situations, often using it to speak when no words will come. Despite the fact that self-injury is far from rare, myths and misunderstanding surround this psychological ailment -- mistaken ideas that often result in self-harmers being treated badly by police, doctors, therapists, and emergency room personnel.

Self-harm scares people. The behavior can be disturbing and difficult to understand, and it is often treated in a simplistic or sensational manner by the press. As a result, friends and loved ones of people who self-injure often feel frightened, isolated, and helpless. Sometimes they resort to demands or ultimatums as a way of trying to regain some control over the situation, only to see things deteriorate further.

The first step toward coping with self-injurious behavior is education: bringing reliable information about who self-injures, why they do it, and how they can learn to stop to people who self-injure and to their friends, loved ones, and medical caregivers. ASHIC was founded to meet this need for honest, accurate information.

In response to society's mistaken ideas about self-harm, the American Self-Harm Information Clearinghouse was created to educate and inform medical and mental health professionals, the media, and the general public, sorting myth from fact and explaining what is known about self-harm. One of ASHIC's major projects is National Self-Injury Awareness Day. In this grassroots effort, people across the country and the world whose lives have been affected by self-injury deliver fact sheets, reports, and brochures to those who make decisions about the treatment of those who self-harm."

I wrote a blog post back in December on glamorizing self-harm (here) and in that post I also touch a little on my own history with self-harm.

I used to cut. A lot. It's kind of funny how open I am about it now considering when I cut, I went to so much trouble to keep the marks hidden and keep anyone from finding out. There are a lot of myths and misconceptions about self-harm and the people who use it.

• Self- harm is a failed suicide attempt.
• People who self-harm are looking for attention or pity from others.
• Self-harm is just a manipulation tool.
• Only deeply depressed people self-harm.
• Only teenagers self-harm.
• Only "emo" or "goth" kids self-harm.
• People only self-harm while high or drunk.
• Only people with a drug/alcohol problem self-harm.
• Only people who are psychotic self-harm.
• Cutting is the only way people self-harm.
• People who self-harm want to die.
  

I think y'all get the idea. The fact is, there are a lot of reasons people self harm.

• Temporary relief and/or distraction from emotional pain, overwhelming/intense negative feelings, panic, anxiety, etc.

• Punishment. For what? Depends on the person. I used to have a friend who cut himself every time he smoked a cigarette after he had said he was quitting. Whenever he slipped up and had one, he cut as a way to punish himself. He's been cigarette free for 3 years now but hasn't cut in 5.

• Expression of thoughts or feelings in which the person cutting doesn't understand or can't verbally express.
  

• Some use it as a coping mechanism for things they can't or won't talk about it.

• Some people do use it for expression of their issues in hopes that it will get some one's attention, possibly to seek out help or support that they may be unable to bring themselves to ask for.

• To feel something instead of just feeling numb.
  

• And sadly, there are some people who do it for the wrong reasons. Such as just to get attention from any and everyone, because they think it's cool, because people they know are doing it, because it's been grossly glamorized, etc.

It's a personal thing and most cases where the person isn't doing it to act out or get attention, there are plenty or reasons that are driving them to physically inflict pain and hurt themselves. It's different for everyone from the reasons they do it to what they get out of it. It's more complex than most people realize and it is a serious problem.

When I used to self-harm, I cut. I usually used a small, sharp kitchen knife but a razor blade would do the trick if I wasn't around a knife or wasn't able to go get one. It took me a while before I realized I could just buy a small pocket knife and hide that so I wouldn't have to use razorblades and wouldn't have to worry about sneaking to the kitchen for a knife and then cleaning and sterilizing it once I was done with it. I mostly cut on my thighs so no one would see them and sometimes on my stomach and upper arms. Anywhere I could keep hidden in regular clothes worked best for me when I was cutting because I didn't want anyone to see what I was doing. I wanted what I got out of it without having anyone know because I knew it wasn't healthy and wasn't good for me to be doing. I knew if people saw the cuts and the scars they would question how it happened because it's not fun, cute, silly, romantic, sweet, pretty or anything other than ugly, dangerous and harmful. I also knew if I cut where people could see, I'd end up making excuses for how I got the mark on my skin and it wouldn't take long for someone to realize I wasn't having as many mishaps as I was saying. So, I kept it all hidden the best that I could. My ex-boyfriend Luke saw them but he also cut and had issues with depression so he didn't judge me or freak out about them.

From Studies have suggested that when people who self-injure get emotionally overwhelmed, an act of self-harm brings their levels of psychological and physiological tension back to a bearable baseline level almost immediately. In other words, they feel a strong uncomfortable emotion, don't know how to handle it (indeed, often do not have a name for it), and know that hurting themselves will reduce the emotional discomfort extremely quickly. They may still feel bad afterward but they don't have that panicky jittery trapped feeling.

That's pretty accurate. It can be calming, albeit a horrible way of getting yourself calm but it's true. It's a very fast fix. The fix isn't a real fix, it's similar to someone who uses drugs or alcohol to cope actually. As someone who used to use drugs as well as cutting to help cope with depression, anxiety, etc; I understand perfectly well that you're not really fixing anything. You're just making it feel better for the moment and then it sucks again later. Then you do your quick temporary fix that feels so good in that moment and for a little while. Then you're back to it not being better again so you keep going back for more. It's a vicious cycle.

It's also just easier to focus on and deal with physical pain than it is to deal with emotional pain or trauma sometimes. It's like an escape in a way. You can live in that moment in the pain and that's all you feel. That's the same as using it as a distraction, though. It doesn't last.

I self-harmed for several reasons. Sometimes it was because I just felt numb and wanted to feel something. Sometimes I was just so overwhelmed with painful thoughts and negative emotion that I sought out relief through self-harm. Sometimes it was about control. Because I hurt so much and was in such a bad place and I didn't know what to do or how to fix it. I couldn't control how I felt and couldn't find a solution. I could control the cutting though and that gave me a calming effect and the illusion that I still had some control over something, that I wasn't just completely out of control in every aspect of my life.

I finally decided one day that I was sick of being miserable. I was sick of being a mess. I was sick of hurting myself. I was sick of self-medicating with drugs. I was just sick of the person I had let myself become by not dealing with things and by letting my problems and issues own me. I can't remember for the life of me what it was that made me snap and say, "that's it, I've had enough." I stopped using drugs and stopped cutting. I struggled with both but I was determined I was going to become a better person and be happy.

When I was in an armed robbery the first time I lived in Northern CA, that set my progress back a little bit. I was having nightmares a lot after that happened. Having a gun held to the back of your head and another aimed at the side of your head with a group of guys in masks screaming at you and threatening your life will do that to a person. I was afraid to seek help for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after that, so I didn't. I started having panic attacks because every little thing freaked me out the first few weeks. The nightmares were horrible and caused me more panic and anxiety. I was angry at myself for handing it so poorly. I thought I should have been stronger than that, should have not let it get to me as badly as it did. I started cutting again for a while after that because it was the only thing I knew to do to help relieve some of the overwhelming feelings and tension I was facing. I stopped cutting again after a few months. I went through this downward spiral again after that where I drank way too much, started taking pain killers when I didn't need them and then I'd cut once in a while when everything got to be too much.

I was 23 the last time I cut. I'll be 27 this June. Shane was amazingly helpful as I went through this. We've been together almost 6 years now and knew each other for a year before we started dating. I was open with him about it and if he saw a scar or mark on me, I'd be honest and say that I'd cut. He never yelled or got angry, he'd just be upset. And that hurt more than if he had just been angry and yelled. I'd want to cut and then end up sitting in the floor in tears, crying because I didn't know what else to do because everything hurt so much but I didn't want to cut. I got to a point where I'd just talk to Shane whenever I wanted to cut. I've always had a problem being able to talk to people about my emotions and feelings. I hate feeling vulnerable so I keep a lot of stuff inside. Sometimes it didn't help but most of the time, it did. He understood. He'd also dealt with depression and some other issues before I'd met him. He wasn't judgmental, he didn't try to force me into getting help, he didn't yell, he didn't talk down to me, he just listened and together, we worked through it. Then I started talking about it after a while, with other people who had some similar issues and gone through similar things I had gone through. It sounds cheesy but all that soul searching ended up being very healing.

I used to think going for 3 or 4 days without self-harm was a good thing. When I'd go for weeks at a time before crashing again, I'd lie to myself and say I had it under control more and that it wasn't as big of an issue anymore. Which wasn't true. It doesn't matter if you do it every day, once a week or just a few times a month.

I haven't cut in almost 4 years now and I don't even have the urges to do so anymore. Back when I was going through this, I felt desperate at times, like there would never be a time where I wouldn't need to cut to feel better.

I know it's hard to get help but please, don't be afraid to. The hardest part is admitting you have a problem and then having the courage to ask for help in getting through it. There are people out there that can help, that won't judge you and won't treat you like an attention starved person without any real problems. You can even seek help online. There are chat rooms, message boards and online support groups to help. There are some great resources out there. Reaching out for help is a scary thing but just know that you can get help if you want to from somewhere.

Some links for self-harm information, support, etc: Scar Tissue.net, TheSite, Recover Your Life, Facts about Self-Injury, Help Guide: Cutting and Self-Harm, S.A.F.E. Alternatives, ReachOut.com: Self Harm.

If you think someone in your life is self-harming, please, talk to them. It doesn't hurt to ask if you think you have even the slightest inclination to be worried about someone in your life. You never know what the people in your life might be silently going through and an awkward question might mean more than you could ever realize.

Tomorrow is "remove the cancer" day...

It was pointed out to me by a couple blog readers who creep on my twitter account that I never wrote an update to this post regarding the boyfriend and why I was asking for good thoughts and such for him.

We found out over the weekend the results from the tests he had done and found out he has thyroid cancer. He met with the surgeon who will be performing the surgery on Friday so they could go over stuff. He's going in this morning before work to have some pre-surgery testing done and the surgery to completely remove his thyroid is on Wednesday morning. He's on some medication for other health issues (strokes, which could be related to thyroid cancer if he's had it as long as they say is possible but they won't know that until a little while after the surgery when they can do some more blood work on tests on him) and they had him go off of them two weeks ago in case the tests did reveal he had thyroid cancer. If he hadn't been off of them, they wouldn't be able to do the surgery as quickly because it would be too risky.

As far as cancer goes, thyroid cancer is the best type to get, according to all the doctors he's been to recently. It's very treatable. He'll have to be in the hospital 1-2 days after the surgery, depending on how things go.

The hard part about all of this is actually the financial aspect of it. Being sick is fucking expensive. He does have health insurance thanks to his job but even with that it's still quite a few thousand dollars coming out of our pockets. I'd hate to see what all of this would cost if he didn't have insurance. It's kind of amusing that he's got cancer and has surgery and radiation coming up and he's more stressed over the financial aspects of it than anything else. He has to miss at least a week of work to recover from the surgery so that doesn't help either. His surgeon said he might need more than a week but I'm really hoping not. We were hoping to move into an apartment closer to his job next month and fix his non-working Ford that's been sitting non-working for a couple months now with tax return money. But that and then some will be going towards medical expenses now, so. I feel kind of like an ass complaining about that when the important thing is getting him healthy and cancer free. But at the same time, I don't want him stressing out over the financial aspect of this more than he already is because that's not going to help at all. Of course, I can't stop him from stressing about that because I know he's going to and it's a very valid concern to have. And if I focus on that then I don't have to worry about my mind wandering about complications and things that I've been told could possibly go wrong. I'd rather think about financial problems than the possibilities of things not going well at the hospital, ya know? Which is silly but I can't help but worry.

As far as the surgery goes, he's optimistic it'll go well and they'll be able to get it all so he can be cancer free again. My uncle, who is in his early 70's, just had this same procedure done last week and is home recovering and getting better daily. I've had a couple friends who have had relatives go through the same ordeal and they've all been able to come out on the better end of it. The assurance that we know several people who have had this and gotten treatment for it makes it a lot less scary. Though because of the other issues he has and the fact that stuff can go wrong at any given moment even if it's "almost" certain it will be fine, I'm still going to worry about him until they come out and tell me the surgery went well. It's not like I'm losing sleep or making myself sick with worry but I don't want to have myself in some little bubble of "everything will be fine" either. If something did go wrong, it would suck that much more if I hadn't allowed anyone negative thoughts in and just basically convinced myself everything would be dandy. A little worry is healthy. I think anyway, lol. Now I'm rambling, so enough of that.

And on the plus side, he finally has to quit smoking. Of course that means he'll be hell to be around for a while, like usual the other times he's "quit" for a short amount of time. Then eventually he'll move passed that nightmare to be around cranky stage. I'm much more happy about that part of it than he is. :D

So, if y'all could send good vibes, happy thoughts and all that good stuff our way tomorrow, it would be much appreciated. Shane's surgery is at 9:30 AM and I'll be chilling there waiting for them to slice him open and take the cancer out of him. I'm sure I'll be tweeting an annoying amount or something while I wait tomorrow in an attempt to distract myself so I'm less anxious while I wait, lol. Hopefully it all goes well.

Happy Tuesday!

Excuse me while I get emotional...

Excuse me if I end up rambling and not making much sense or repeating myself at all the further into the post you get. I'm a bit emotional and I can't really get my thoughts and words to cooperate with one another for the sake of being articulate. I need to write this out and emotions are messy, ugly things sometimes which I'm sure will be reflected in this rambling post. Anyway...

I was talking to a friend yesterday about Christmas type stuff. She asked me how my blog's fundraiser was coming along and I admitted it hadn't gone as well as the first two years. I wondered in part if that's because I just wasn't putting as much effort into it as I had the previous two years but that's not the case. Though, I almost didn't do it this year because when I thought about it, it seemed like I might not be able to get into the spirit of doing it. But, I'm glad I did because it's given me something good to focus on and doing it really does make me so happy and I needed something to be happy about during the holiday season. I love helping people and through this, a lot of families will get help during their financially rough holiday season. (Which by the way, there are only 11 days left to donate to the Toys for Tots fundraiser.) That conversation led us to the topic of presents for our friends and loved ones. We were talking about what we planned to get our families and in my case what I had already gotten for mine since I'm almost done with my gift shopping already. I really just wanted to get it over with and out of the way with as quickly as possible. Then we started talking house decorations and such. I started thinking about how this would be my first Christmas without Grandpa here. I forgot what I said exactly but it was something to do with decorations and my grandparents house.

Which caused this response from my friend....

"You know, you still always refer to it as your grandparent's house or your grandma and grandpa's place, right? But it's been almost 6 months since he died, don't you think you should just refer to it as your grandma's house by now?"

And the thing is, she wasn't trying to be rude or an ass. She was just asking because she was generally curious if I realized I still did that. And I hadn't really realized that because it was just the way I phrased it out of habit. She didn't even realize it might be an insensitive thing to say until I started crying. Then she was freaking out, apologizing and then crying herself because she felt so bad. She's never had anyone close to her die before. Her worse experience with death so far in life has been having to say goodbye to a few goldfishes before.

Maybe I should stop referring to it as "their" house but I don't. I still think of it as their house even though he passed away this summer. They lived there before I was born. It was their house long before I was even thought of, before my parents even knew each other. That's the house I spent many weekends, Spring Breaks, weeks at a time during Summer break and so on and so forth in. It's a place I grew up at and a place I spent a lot of time at. And it was "their" house for my entire life up until this passed June when he passed away, in that house. I spent 25 years spending time in that house and I've always referred to it as "grandma and grandpa's house" or "my grandparents house" and I cant seem to wrap my head around getting myself to think of it differently, even though he's been gone for almost half a year.

When I go visit my grandma, I say just that, that I'm going to visit her. It's not like I haven't accepted he's gone. It would be hard to be in denial about that after seeing his lifeless body at his viewing. I understand he's gone. I go visit my grandma and I still see so much of him there. Pictures, his chair, his room, his bed and tons of other things I've always associated with him. It's hard not to think of it as "their" home when there's sill so much of him there, including the urn that has his ashy remains in them, lol.

A few people told me the holidays would be hard. I thought that it would be difficult but I didn't really understand how it would feel. I got mad at myself on Thanksgiving because I found myself standing in my aunt's kitchen cooking and wishing he would be there to eat the macaroni and cheese I was making from scratch because he liked it so much. I almost cried while I was standing there melting the cheeses because I just missed him so much at that moment and wished he could be there for it. Then I was angry at myself for being upset because I sometimes feel like it shouldn't hurt so much still. And even though I know that's silly, I was grateful for that because I hate crying in front of people and that anger at myself kept me from bawling into the mac and cheese in front of my family. And I was happy for that for another reason; because it was my grandmother and my mom and my aunts and he was their father and they weren't crying. Maybe they wanted to but they were holding it together and making the best of the day even though I knew my grandmother was hurting horribly. I didn't want to be the one that set everyone else into a depressing mood or a crying fit.

Now as it's Christmas this and Christmas that all over the place, it's hard. I look at the Christmas tree we have in our living room and I remember the last cute little tree they had at their house and I wonder if my grandma will even bother with putting one up this year. I wonder if she'll stay with my mom and aunt or my other aunt for a few days so she doesn't have to be alone on the holiday. I thought about how I wouldn't have to get him any of the things he always wanted every year for Christmas but when I go somewhere and see any one of his favorite things, I wish I had a reason to buy any or all of them still. It hurts in such a deep aching way and sometimes, I don't know how to deal with it. I feel grateful that he's gone because he's not suffering in any way any longer. I want to laugh and smile because I feel so lucky to have had him around for so long, to have had such a good relationship with him, for him caring so much for us and for the good memories I have with him. And I want to cry because I miss him and it hurts that he's not around anymore.

I remember Christmas when I was 10. We lived in this two story house that had a tiny little front porch on it that held two chairs. My grandpa always sat outside on the porch for a while. He liked to just sit out there and watch the world go by and think. I remember that year I sat outside with him in a Tasmanian Devil t-shirt, a hideously ugly jacket that I thought was awesome at the time and track pants with a Santa hat on and asked him why he liked sitting outside so much when it was so cold. He said being outside was calming, relaxing. It was quiet and there was just nature and his thoughts if he wanted to think or reflect. Being out in the open air, seeing the trees, the grass and smelling those things was a nice place to be. I remember pointing out that it was icy and cold and you couldn't really smell anything besides cold. He laughed and asked me what I thought cold smelled like. I said ice cubes and he did a little half smile and agreed with me. Then I just sat out there with him for a long time and didn't say anything else until we went in to eat.

And it's memories like those that I try to focus on right now because I have plenty of good memories of him. And plenty of great ones from all the Christmases he was around for. The thing about focusing on the happy times though is knowing you'll never have more like them but trying to be thankful and happy that you had them in the first place. I often end up sad whilst thinking of good memories of him I have just because it makes me miss him. Sometimes I end up crying and a times it's out of pain and sadness, other times it's more of a happy yet bittersweet feeling.

Death is such a weird fucking thing to deal with.

Silver linings aren't always easy to see...

I have this habit of trying to find a bright side to something that annoys me. It keeps me from being in a worse mood when I'm already in a bad mood and often keeps me from being grumpy at all when my day has been sucking. It's easier to just let yourself be in a bad mood than to look at the bright side of something, or try and find a bright side at all. But when I let the bad stuff set in, it always seems to just keep rolling in and piling on, which I'm not a fan of. Honestly? Sometimes, there really is no silver lining and I let myself be pissed off about something. Usually, I'll find a plus side to something crappy and it helps me deal with it and not be in such a bad mood over it. It's also easy to let little life annoyances that really don't matter in the grand scheme of things put you in a bad mood. You know it's something insignificant but you can't always help what sets you off. Again, when that happens, I just look for the silver lining if there's one to be found.

I'll use a few examples from this morning.

Dislike: Being awake at 6 AM and my Keurig maker being injured. Being awake this early and no coffee? ACK.

Like: My Keurig is still covered under warranty so it's being replaced free of charge. Also, I can afford Starbucks this morning.


Dislike: That I woke up shivering this morning because the vent in our bedroom was shut thus not allowing any heat in and I get cold easily, especially when I'm not feeling well.

Like: That I have a comfortable bed and a roof over my head every night. And warming back up only takes opening the vent or snuggling under another blanket closer to my human heater boyfriend.


Dislike: That I have some rather unpleasant things to do today that I really don't want to do but will do because I'm responsible.

Like: That I get to go to the Stars vs Senators game tonight when we originally weren't going to be able to.


Dislike: I'm going on day 8 of fighting off a nasty sinus infection.

Like: That it's almost cleared up and I haven't had a fever the last 3 of 8 days. Which means that my supplements for my immune system really are working, slowly but surely because a sinus infection usually knocks me out for 2-3 weeks every single time.


Moving on from that. There are 16 days left to make a paypal donation to my Toys for Tots fundraiser. I'm sure y'all are sick of seeing me talk about it and again, I don't care. I posted an update on Tuesday so check that out if you haven't already. December 16th is the last day I'm taking donations via paypal unless you email with a reason why you need an extra day or two which has happened several times before. It only takes a few dollars to help out a really great cause and I do all the toy shopping so you can donate toys without having to go shop for anything yourself. So come on, $5 or $10 isn't that much and it's for a great cause. Please help out if you can. Thanks to everyone who has donated and all who have helped spread the word thus far. It's greatly appreciated. <3

Happy Thursday!

The holidays are rough sometimes...

I'm feeling kind of odd about Thanksgiving. My grandfather died this summer, in early June. I saw him often and grew up seeing my grandparents all the time and spending lots of weekends and stuff with them. It's been hard coping at time with the fact that he's not around. Saturday, I went to my grandma's house with my mom and two youngest siblings. We helped her with the yard work because grandpa always kept up with it and she's not much for it. It was fun and felt good being outside and doing it together but I kept thinking about various things. Like growing up and watching my grandpa do the yard work. Or going back into his shed to pull out various tools we needed and thinking about how huge that shed had seemed when I was a little kid but how small it seems now. I stood in there for a minute looking at everything and felt sad knowing he'd never step in there again, those tools that were once all in a certain spot just "where ever" now because other family members who used them just put them back in no certain order. After the yard work, we played games while watching the Stars game on TV. No comments from the recliner in the corner of the living room during the game, he's not there to make comments about anything anymore.

We also talked about what the plans for Thanksgiving would be. Grandma isn't much on cooking because grandpa really enjoyed cooking. He did a lot of the cooking for Thanksgiving. Grandma never learned to do a turkey or a chicken because he always handled it. And in her words, "I'm in my 80's and don't care to learn the proper way to cook a damn turkey anyway." I hadn't even thought of it until she mentioned the cooking thing but this will be the first Thanksgiving I'll have been home for that I won't be eating something he cooked. I won't be watching him cook or pestering him for anything.

It's the little things like those things that really make me sad. Like having Thanksgiving dinner without him. Not having him at the table for any sarcastic remarks about anything. He didn't say a lot at times but when he did say something, it was worth hearing and really listening to. Up until the last couple years when he fell in and out of knowing what was really going on. Alzheimer's is a bitch and I don't wish anyone to every have to go through that or watch someone they love go through it. Everyone says the first year is the hardest when someone you're close to dies because it's hard to adjust to them not being around for all the big events and holidays they've always been around for. I'm doing better with it but it's still rough and I miss him.

We're spending Thanksgiving at my aunt's house in East Texas this year, which will be a first. Grandma said she didn't want it at her place because she couldn't stand to be there without him being there. An aunt had a suggestion to just go to a restaurant but my grandma doesn't do well around noisy places and I'm seriously hate the idea of going out to dinner on Thanksgiving anyway. So we're doing it at my aunt's house instead. I know there will inevitably be some sadness but I'm hoping everyone will focus more on the present and the good memories we all have of passed years. Whenever I get upset or feel sad or just miss him, that's what I like to do. I think about a happy memory of him or some of the good times we had. Which makes me miss him but it also makes me feel better at the same time.

I hope no matter where you go or what you'll be doing this year (if you celebrate) that you'll take a moment and be happy for all that you have. And I hope everyone has an enjoyable holiday celebration around people they care about. Though I know sometimes, that's a hell of a lot easier said than done because no one can drive you crazy like your own damn family can. :)

Okay that's enough rambling from me. One more thing really quick, though. I know y'all are probably sick of seeing it but that's too bad, I am annoying when it comes to raising money for causes/charities I take part in. :) There's just a few weeks left to donate to my Toys For Tots Fundraiser. It doesn't take much to help out! The majority of the donations I've received have been for $5 to $10. Every little bit helps and it's for a great cause. Click the link to check out the post to see more information, passed fundraisers and see the pictures! So, donate if you can please and feel free to post about this on twitter, your blog, tumblr, facebook; whatever social media you spend time online. It would be much appreciated. And thanks so much to those who have donated. :)

Happy Wednesday!!!

Things That Make Me Happy...

I've had a pretty rough time the last couple weeks, mentally and emotionally. I have a lot going on that's been hard to deal with lately and it's been wearing me down to where I've just been stressed and upset a lot. Which isn't normal for me because it takes a LOT to wear me down like that which ends up irritating me even more because I hate letting things get to me to the point of where I feel so down. Anyway, to combat some of those negative feelings, I'm going to make a list of some things that make me happy lately.

• The Dallas Stars are 10-3-0 right now. They're first place in their division, first place in the Western Conference, second in the entire league and the first team in the NHL to reach ten wins so far this season. Hockey always makes me happy but seeing my team playing so well and winning makes me even happier. :D

• The movies "Horrible Bosses" and "Gnomeo & Juliet."

• Peppermint mochas & salted caramel hot chocolate from Starbucks.
  

• Bubbles.

• Getting to ice skate on a regular basis again.

• New art supplies.
  

• Sitting on the front porch enjoying the cooler weather, drinking pomegranate tea and reading a book. With the only noise being the sounds of nature and occasionally a passing car.

• New friends.

• Good friends that listen really well. :)

• Pumpkin cheesecake. And pumpkin spice coffee. And pumpkin bread. And pumpkin candles. Pumpkin stuff everywhere!
  

• The Black Keys.

• Hugs.
  

• Baking gingerbread cookies from scratch and making the house smell delicious.
  

• POMEGRANATE TEA.

• Overstuffed comfy chairs and super soft blankets.

• The weather being cool enough for me to bust out the fuzzy socks and hoodies again.

So, what are some things that make YOU happy lately? :)

Happy Monday!

It's been three months since he died...

Today makes it three months since my grandfather passed away. Anyone who read that post or anyone who has followed me or known me long enough knows how important he was to me.

I know how lucky I was to have such a good relationship with him and I am thankful for that and thankful for all the good memories of him I have.

It's still hard to think of him as being gone, though. Since he passed three months ago we went through what would have been my grandparents 64th wedding anniversary (less than a month after he passed), my grandmother's birthday and what would have been my grandfather's birthday at the end of August.

I think the first year will be the hardest because it's all the firsts he won't be around for. It's just weird to not think of him being at family events or not talking to him when I talk to grandma. Him not being there when we go to visit and just lots of things to get used to.

I know with time it will get better though. At first, lots of things made me cry. Certain songs that made me think of him would get me tearing up. A few times watching Rangers baseball games made me cry. I'd see things, smell things, hear things and think of things that reminded me of him and I'd cry. It hurt a lot and I hated that it made me cry so easily because I'm rarely brought to tears by anything. One night, I was laying in bed with the boyfriend and something he said reminded me of grandpa and I just started sobbing. He laid there with me, rubbing my back, letting me cry, getting me tissues, getting me water, hugging me; generally being the supportive and amazing man he is. He understands how it feels. His grandfather was his father figure and him, his mom and his little sister lived with their grandparents until the boyfriend was 17. Then they got a house a quarter mile down the street so they would still be close.

Three months later, though? Things make me sad, things make me miss him, I get emotional sometimes but I don't cry over everything any more. Things don't even get my eyes watering very often any more. I don't feel bad about that because it's a good thing. It's good to take time to grieve and mourn but you have to be able to move forward, too. It doesn't mean you're forgetting or caring less but you can't stay stuck in grief and sadness because it will consume you and effect you and people around you negatively. Your life can't stop because you lose someone you love.

I'll always love him and always miss him. Some days are still hard but, I know it gets better with time. And I'll always have the memories of all the great moments and happy times I had with him.

Verbal abuse is still abuse...

I saw that image several months ago and it made me feel so terrible. I saw it again a couple days ago and decided I'd do a blog post about it. I have seen and heard a lot of people say that verbal abuse isn't really abuse. They're just words. No one's really getting hurt, right? That's wrong. Verbal abuse is still abuse.

As an adult, I don't give a shit what people say to me and about me most of the time. Call me an idiot? Call me a slut? Call me a bitch? Tell me I'm useless? I won't believe a word of it because I'm not, so what?, I can be and I'm definitely not. I know who and what I am. I'm a very strong person and I don't let people get to me easily. I don't honestly care what most people think of me, either.

That wasn't always the case, though.

When I was a little kid, I was more susceptible to the words around me.

You tell your child, "You idiot, what did you do that for?!" because they did something stupid. You lost your temper. You said something dumb. You know your kid isn't an idiot. You just said it out of anger or frustration. Your child might roll their eyes or not say anything.

I remember when I was young, I'd glare or roll my eyes. Then I'd be sitting in my room drawing and listening to music or doing something. And words would creep back into my head. I'd tell myself I was the opposite of what had been said but there was always doubt. Always a small part of me that soaked it in and thought, well maybe that's true, maybe I am...
I wasn't verbally abused. My parents weren't constantly telling me bad things or talking down to me. Once in a while, they would slip out of frustration or anger and say something hurtful that I assume wasn't really meant. It would bother me even though I acted like it didn't. I would always have that small nagging voice in the back of my mind that reinforced hurtful words I heard.

I was different from the girls in my classes. I went to a different school damn near every year. Sometimes I'd stay somewhere two years. I was always different. I had a weird sense of humor, was a major tomboy who really only cared about sports, LEGOS, action figures and horror stories. I was fascinated by things that were probably a bit morbid for a kid to be interested in. I didn't always fit in but I always had a few friends anyway. Then I had the rest of the kids who said mean shit to me thought most of that didn't start until 5th grade. It's no surprise to anyone who knows me or who has read my blog long enough to see pictures to know that I have a huge rack. And I've had large breasts all my life. I never wore a training bra, I just got thrown right into the real thing. In 5th grade, I had at least 3 times more boobs than any of the other girls in my classes. Which sparked a lot of animosity from literally every girl in my class. I think 5th grade was one of the worst yet best years ever. That was the year I had to put up with more shit from kids at school than I ever had before but that was also the year I started learning to not let what people said about me and to me get to me. Thankfully, I was also taller than all of them, had broad shoulders, played hockey on a mostly male team as well as played other sports; so none of their picking on me every came in the form of physical torment. That didn't make the other crap any easier to deal with at first. It sucked hearing groups of girls talk trash to and about me every single day, it sucked having them write stupid notes about me and spread stupid rumors. But it also worked in my favor because I decided I'd never be like that and that I'd stop letting people's opinions of me matter. I knew I wasn't any of things they said I was and that was enough for me. I knew I never wanted to be that kind of mean, petty person either. And the less I cared, the more it pissed them off. Which after a while just became amusing to me.

You might not realize you're damaging or hurting someone when you say something terrible out of anger, frustration, etc. You might not even remember saying it later. You might not give it a second though. A week later and you probably won't remember at all. It doesn't mean the person you said it to won't. It doesn't mean that words don't hurt and don't leave an impression. Especially on children. They haven't learned to blow it off. They haven't learned that people don't always mean what they say.

There's no reason to ever make a child feel stupid, useless, ugly, unworthy or anything else that's negative and hurtful. It doesn't mean you shouldn't tell them when they've done something wrong but don't call them names to get across a point whether they did something wrong, made a mistake, didn't do well on a test, their team lost a game, etc. Don't belittle them, don't call them names and don't make them feel like a piece of garbage because they don't deserve that. No one deserves that.

Even if they act like they don't care or act like it doesn't hurt, even if they roll their eyes or stomp off, they're going to think about it and the words are going to be there lurking in their young minds.

Verbal abuse can be just as and sometimes more damaging than physical abuse. Emotional wounds often take far longer than physical ones to heal. Though there are plenty of emotional ones that come along with the physical but that's another post entirely. So next time you're angry, upset or frustrated, take a breath and think about what you want to say and how you need to say it. You don't need to sugar coat things but being verbally abusive isn't the answer. It also teaches them to react that way and that will stay with them and grow with them as they get older and then it will likely just keep going. That's not something you really want to pass on and spread to the world. That's something the world needs a whole lot less of.

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.