well. once again i’ve run out of time to do much more than brain vomit and hope it makes some kind of sense. tax return should be deposited soon…then maybe i can actually buy a computer for my house…then i’ll have all sorts of time!
ANYWAY. not enough time for babble. i wanted to vomit out a few big break thrus i’ve had the last few days…pretty big ones really…here we go:
my brother called on wednesday to see about stopping by this weekend on their way through town. he asked if he could take my boys to lunch with my mum and stepdad who will be in town later in the day to see them. my answer, of course, was not only no, but HELL NO. my thought was: when hell freezes over AND the devil is crowned prom queen of a south texas high school AND the jersey shore show on mtv is shown to increase the intelligence of viewers THEN they can go. but since my brother is easily offended, i kept it at NO. and he, of course, questioned me several times which not only frustrated me beyond all reason, but also made me question myself and the decision, AND made me feel the family rift once again. it hurt. so much. i made my decision when it all first came to light. i will not waiver. it is for the protection of my children. i will never compromise their protection. and he questioned: well, i’ll be there…can’t they go if i’m supervising? NO. which part of NO is so fucking hard to understand? and it didn’t occur to me later, but i should have asked him: what if i went to airway heights and had a sex offender paroled for the day…just for lunch? would you let me take YOUR kids to lunch with him? i’d be there supervising…of course. i’m guessing his answer would be no also. doesn’t he get that it’s the same situation? it IS the exact same situation minus the jail time. I WILL NOT LET MY CHILDREN BE AROUND AN ABUSER. period. done. quit asking me to.
also in the past he’s mentioned: “but the kids seem fine around him…they don’t act scared at all.” this question really bothered me. i wondered at times if i was wrong, if i was going over kill…until last night when it clicked: I’M GLAD THEY’RE NOT SCARED. that mean i caught the problems while it was still in the grooming stage before any actual scarring abuse happened. I’M GLAD THERE’S NOTHING TO BE AFRAID OF (for them). i would rather know they’re protected and safe and it was caught early before any permanent damage was done than to look back later and wonder why i didn’t hold my ground. my little spawn was young. he didn’t know what he was saying or why it was bad. BUT I DID. i knew what it meant and where it was headed. i have no questions to this day that all the signs were there and he would have been hurt. i have no question he was being groomed for abuse. i was able to pull him away from the flame before he got burned. AND I’M GLAD. no i won’t risk letting them near enough for it to happen again. are you fucking crazy?
but at the same time, it hurts because it’s driving a wedge in my family. and it kills me. i just lost my brother. i’ve lost my mom in a different way. my older brother and my dad are all i have left. and i’m losing that brother too. i’m losing what little family i have. and i’m just getting to know my dad. so it feels like i have no family at all. and it’s killing me. it hurts so much. and i don’t have an answer for this one yet, but at least i understand why i dread my brother’s calls. i know there will be a problem. i know the wedge is getting bigger and bigger. i know there’s nothing i can do, besides compromising my kids, to make it go away. and it’s seriously killing me. this week went to shit wednesday after his call, and i’m still trying to pull it back together. i HATE this feeling. i hate being alone. and now i’m beyond alone. no partner OR family. there’s this HUGE GAPING HOLE in me and i can’t fix it.
and people wonder why i’m depressed.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
the good, the bad, the ugly truth
the good: i am capable of feeling romantical type of emotions. it’s a shock to me too. didn’t think i could after all these years. thought that part has been properly cordoned off and sealed up. guess there was a breach in security. catherine zeda jones made it past the laser maze and stole the damn mask.
the bad: i found this out by becoming all schmoopy and attached to someone who not only didn’t return said feelings at the same level, he didn’t return ANY feeling. suck.
the ugly truth: several of my own worst self perceptions were confirmed during this learning experience. i was too chubby, not pretty enough, embarrassing to be seen out with, in general just all around not good enough. it was, very much, like re-enacting pretty woman including the no kissing clause, minus the bank and the happy ending. well, and minus the killer shopping spree. and minus the being beat by the lawyer friend. okay. fuck. it wasn’t like pretty woman at all except the fact that i was a last resort and he wouldn’t kiss me. there you go.
so. the result of this is more thinking that i am, in fact, very much right on one thing: some people aren’t made to be part of a couple. some people really are meant to be a party of one for whatever reason. i’m the party of one. i’ve tried to be a party of two, never really works out so well. ever. only twice was i really a part of something that could be called anything…once was 6 years ago when i was married (gag) and once was 5 years before that when i was “dating” my oldest sons dad (for a whole 4 months (three of which i was knocked up)). i’ve gone out on dates…even as recent as 3/2007 (not even kidding). i’ve had people i hang out with. but i’m just not meant to be a part of something. this last excursion around the bay was the first and ONLY time besides my marriage that someone stayed overnight two nights in a row. it’s the ONLY time that a boy has had his own toothbrush at my house. it’s the ONLY time EVER that i’ve woken up next to someone and been comfortable. but it didn’t work. there wasn’t anything to work really. i wasn’t wanted, just handy. whatever. i should know better by now. i suppose it’s like a rat in a cage: you have to keep checking the edges even though you never get out and the electrical shock never goes away. it is always a shock when i rediscover what i already knew. actually, i think the rats have a faster learning curve…
the bad: i found this out by becoming all schmoopy and attached to someone who not only didn’t return said feelings at the same level, he didn’t return ANY feeling. suck.
the ugly truth: several of my own worst self perceptions were confirmed during this learning experience. i was too chubby, not pretty enough, embarrassing to be seen out with, in general just all around not good enough. it was, very much, like re-enacting pretty woman including the no kissing clause, minus the bank and the happy ending. well, and minus the killer shopping spree. and minus the being beat by the lawyer friend. okay. fuck. it wasn’t like pretty woman at all except the fact that i was a last resort and he wouldn’t kiss me. there you go.
so. the result of this is more thinking that i am, in fact, very much right on one thing: some people aren’t made to be part of a couple. some people really are meant to be a party of one for whatever reason. i’m the party of one. i’ve tried to be a party of two, never really works out so well. ever. only twice was i really a part of something that could be called anything…once was 6 years ago when i was married (gag) and once was 5 years before that when i was “dating” my oldest sons dad (for a whole 4 months (three of which i was knocked up)). i’ve gone out on dates…even as recent as 3/2007 (not even kidding). i’ve had people i hang out with. but i’m just not meant to be a part of something. this last excursion around the bay was the first and ONLY time besides my marriage that someone stayed overnight two nights in a row. it’s the ONLY time that a boy has had his own toothbrush at my house. it’s the ONLY time EVER that i’ve woken up next to someone and been comfortable. but it didn’t work. there wasn’t anything to work really. i wasn’t wanted, just handy. whatever. i should know better by now. i suppose it’s like a rat in a cage: you have to keep checking the edges even though you never get out and the electrical shock never goes away. it is always a shock when i rediscover what i already knew. actually, i think the rats have a faster learning curve…
it has been decided (for me)
so. i’m not weak. i think that’s the last word that 98% of people who have ever met me would use to describe me. i have this funny growth in the lump that’s three feet above my ass…it’s called a brain. and believe it or not, i have actually learned how to use it over the years, and i am surprisingly capable of making decisions on my own…at least enough to get me through the last 29 years or so. now admittedly, they haven’t always been the best decisions, but they’re ones that i made. ME. I MADE THEM. ON MY VERY OWN.
so it astounds me when people decide to think for me. to make decisions for me. that’s a lie. it doesn’t astound me. IT FUCKING PISSES ME OFF. are you fucking kidding me with this shit? you thought you knew what was best for me and went ahead and decided? it’s happened more times than i care to count in the last few years.
when i was a kid…had to have been 10 or 11…we got a call that my dad had been in a really bad car accident. had rolled the car several times, punctured a lung, broken several ribs, BAD shape. the accident had thrown the glove compartment 100 yards from his car, and completely totaled the car (a cop car…reinforced and all). we were told about it a week later and not allowed to go down to see him. “…it would be best if you didn’t see him like that...” FUCK YOU. my dad is in the hospital WRECKED UP and you think it would be best if i didn’t see him? are you fucking kidding me? he’s my dad. i should ESPECIALLY be able to see him then.
then when my little brother was in an accident this last august i was called FOUR DAYS LATER when he woke up from the coma. “…well, we didn’t want you to worry and rush over here, so we decided to wait and call you till we knew it was a little better…” WHAT THE FUCK? my brother is in a coma and you didn’t want to worry me? if i shouldn’t be worried then, when SHOULD i be worried? what if he hadn’t made it then? turns out he didn’t really make it then and i never did get to see him through all of that or through the end.
it same thing with his death. i was called THE NEXT DAY. “…well, we didn’t want you to stress out and drive down here so we waited to call you…” EXCUSE ME? stress me out? he’s fucking dead. why shouldn’t i be stressed? why shouldn’t i drive down as soon as i hear? shouldn’t that be my call? NOT YOURS? so i get there a day late and a dollar short. i swear to all that’s holy, if they don’t call me to spread his ashes, a few of them are going to join him in the great beyond.
and it’s still happening. people making decisions for me: “…well, i didn’t think you’d be comfortable so i didn’t think you should go…” WHAT? well fuck…i’m so glad someone knows what i’m comfortable with more than i do. i’m glad someone can make decisions for me of where i would feel okay going or which social situations i would feel comfortable putting myself in. nothing like a fucked up excuse twisted for exclusion. if you didn’t want me there, just fucking ball up and say it. don’t hide it behind some fucked reason that you are trying to force on me.
i’m a fucking big girl. believe it or not i can say yes please or no thank you to situations. i can handle being stressed out about things. i can handle being upset. i can handle making my own fucking decisions. i don’t need people to fucking think for me. trust me, if nothing else, thinking is one thing i’m more than capable of doing. ALL THE FUCKING TIME. i don’t make a decision without thinking it through roughly 100 times. i know what i’m comfortable with, i know what and where i want to be. i know what i can handle and what’s too much for me. it’s honestly a fucking slap in the face when a decision is made for me. it’s saying i’m not good enough. i’m not smart enough. i’m not grown up enough to be in control of my own life. yes, i might ask for help or input once in a while on a decision…but in the end, i am capable of making the final decision without having it made for me.
so it astounds me when people decide to think for me. to make decisions for me. that’s a lie. it doesn’t astound me. IT FUCKING PISSES ME OFF. are you fucking kidding me with this shit? you thought you knew what was best for me and went ahead and decided? it’s happened more times than i care to count in the last few years.
when i was a kid…had to have been 10 or 11…we got a call that my dad had been in a really bad car accident. had rolled the car several times, punctured a lung, broken several ribs, BAD shape. the accident had thrown the glove compartment 100 yards from his car, and completely totaled the car (a cop car…reinforced and all). we were told about it a week later and not allowed to go down to see him. “…it would be best if you didn’t see him like that...” FUCK YOU. my dad is in the hospital WRECKED UP and you think it would be best if i didn’t see him? are you fucking kidding me? he’s my dad. i should ESPECIALLY be able to see him then.
then when my little brother was in an accident this last august i was called FOUR DAYS LATER when he woke up from the coma. “…well, we didn’t want you to worry and rush over here, so we decided to wait and call you till we knew it was a little better…” WHAT THE FUCK? my brother is in a coma and you didn’t want to worry me? if i shouldn’t be worried then, when SHOULD i be worried? what if he hadn’t made it then? turns out he didn’t really make it then and i never did get to see him through all of that or through the end.
it same thing with his death. i was called THE NEXT DAY. “…well, we didn’t want you to stress out and drive down here so we waited to call you…” EXCUSE ME? stress me out? he’s fucking dead. why shouldn’t i be stressed? why shouldn’t i drive down as soon as i hear? shouldn’t that be my call? NOT YOURS? so i get there a day late and a dollar short. i swear to all that’s holy, if they don’t call me to spread his ashes, a few of them are going to join him in the great beyond.
and it’s still happening. people making decisions for me: “…well, i didn’t think you’d be comfortable so i didn’t think you should go…” WHAT? well fuck…i’m so glad someone knows what i’m comfortable with more than i do. i’m glad someone can make decisions for me of where i would feel okay going or which social situations i would feel comfortable putting myself in. nothing like a fucked up excuse twisted for exclusion. if you didn’t want me there, just fucking ball up and say it. don’t hide it behind some fucked reason that you are trying to force on me.
i’m a fucking big girl. believe it or not i can say yes please or no thank you to situations. i can handle being stressed out about things. i can handle being upset. i can handle making my own fucking decisions. i don’t need people to fucking think for me. trust me, if nothing else, thinking is one thing i’m more than capable of doing. ALL THE FUCKING TIME. i don’t make a decision without thinking it through roughly 100 times. i know what i’m comfortable with, i know what and where i want to be. i know what i can handle and what’s too much for me. it’s honestly a fucking slap in the face when a decision is made for me. it’s saying i’m not good enough. i’m not smart enough. i’m not grown up enough to be in control of my own life. yes, i might ask for help or input once in a while on a decision…but in the end, i am capable of making the final decision without having it made for me.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
LOVE HARDER
http://www.youtube.com/watch?
From Laurie:
From Laurie:
Our Plea
Our friend Brandy is a brilliant writer, a wonderful teacher, and a generous friend. And she is in love with a man who has just been diagnosed with multiple myeloma.
We are raising money for the Multiple Myeloma Research Fund in his name. For the price of a cinnamon dolce latte, half-caf, hold the whip, you can be part of an effort to cure a disease that affects approximately 750,000 people worldwide.
http://www.loveharder.org
Every dollar brings us a dollar closer to a cure. And every donation brings a sliver of hope to a girl who needs all the hope she can get.
Love Harder,
[Your Name]
What You Can Do
Where Your Money Goes
Brandy's Story (if you already posted this, you can just link to your original post)
My name is Brandy. And I have a blog.
And a plea.
I use my blog to showcase the crazy I meet everyday, share the stories of the kids I teach, and document my love for tequila, dairy products and the abdominal muscles of Ryan Reynolds.
Rarely do I talk about personal issues on my blog-- as personal as the dude that I adore. But I need your help. And it involves my dude.
He's a guy who made math comics for my class, so they would love learning about addition. He's the guy who sends my friends gift cards when they are having hard times, who remembers every story I ever told him, who was the first person I celebrated with when I got a teaching job.
He's the guy who sent flowers to me at school-- dozens of my favourite pink roses just because he loves me. He's a guy who has spent a year patiently explaining (and re-explaining) everything there is to know about football during the important games when silence is preferred.
He's made me word puzzles and comics and stayed up late playing Scrabble with me (even though I beat him almost every time). He's listened to me cry about school and family and jobs. He is everything I never knew I needed and everything I always knew I wanted.
I realize this all sounds dramatic, a Lifetime movie in the making-- but this is life. Right now. And I'm throwing away any hint of ego and am humbly asking for you to pray or think kind thoughts. If you are able to pass this on, thank you.
This isn't a call for sympathy or a plea for pity. It's just one girl hoping you can think positive thoughts for the person she adores. If my current heartache provides you with anything, let it be the reminder that life is short, love is unbending and no one knows what could happen next.
Thank you for reading this, and if you haven't already? Please tell someone you love them today.
I did.
DONATE: http://www.loveharder.org
CONTACT: theloveharderfund@gmail.com
FACEBOOK: http://facebook.loveharder.org
MORE INFO: http://www.themmrf.org
Our friend Brandy is a brilliant writer, a wonderful teacher, and a generous friend. And she is in love with a man who has just been diagnosed with multiple myeloma.
We are raising money for the Multiple Myeloma Research Fund in his name. For the price of a cinnamon dolce latte, half-caf, hold the whip, you can be part of an effort to cure a disease that affects approximately 750,000 people worldwide.
http://www.loveharder.org
Every dollar brings us a dollar closer to a cure. And every donation brings a sliver of hope to a girl who needs all the hope she can get.
Love Harder,
[Your Name]
What You Can Do
- Give. Be part of a worldwide effort to cure a disease that affects approximately 750,000 people worldwide. Every dollar helps.
- Pass it on. Forward this story to five people. Share this blog post. Become our fan on Facebook.
- Love harder. Life is short, love is unbending, and no one knows what could happen next. Tell someone you love them today.
Where Your Money Goes
- The American Institute of Philanthropy recently named The Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation one of the best organizations to give to in terms of their accountability and use of resources.
- By working closely with researchers, clinicians and partners in the biotech and pharmaceutical industry, the MMRF has helped bring multiple myeloma patients four new treatments that are extending lives around the globe.
- The MMRF has advanced twenty Phase I and Phase II clinical trials. They need your support to advance these clinical research programs and accelerate the development of better, more effective treatments.
- The MMRF's Multiple Myeloma Genomics Initiative recently became the first to sequence the multiple myeloma whole genome in its entirety.
- A whopping 98% of your donation to the MMRF will be used immediately to support high-priority multiple myeloma research.
- With diminishing funding for early stage drug development and the next myeloma treatments not expected to be approved until 2011, the MMRF desperately needs your help.
Brandy's Story (if you already posted this, you can just link to your original post)
My name is Brandy. And I have a blog.
And a plea.
I use my blog to showcase the crazy I meet everyday, share the stories of the kids I teach, and document my love for tequila, dairy products and the abdominal muscles of Ryan Reynolds.
Rarely do I talk about personal issues on my blog-- as personal as the dude that I adore. But I need your help. And it involves my dude.
He's a guy who made math comics for my class, so they would love learning about addition. He's the guy who sends my friends gift cards when they are having hard times, who remembers every story I ever told him, who was the first person I celebrated with when I got a teaching job.
He's the guy who sent flowers to me at school-- dozens of my favourite pink roses just because he loves me. He's a guy who has spent a year patiently explaining (and re-explaining) everything there is to know about football during the important games when silence is preferred.
He's made me word puzzles and comics and stayed up late playing Scrabble with me (even though I beat him almost every time). He's listened to me cry about school and family and jobs. He is everything I never knew I needed and everything I always knew I wanted.
I realize this all sounds dramatic, a Lifetime movie in the making-- but this is life. Right now. And I'm throwing away any hint of ego and am humbly asking for you to pray or think kind thoughts. If you are able to pass this on, thank you.
This isn't a call for sympathy or a plea for pity. It's just one girl hoping you can think positive thoughts for the person she adores. If my current heartache provides you with anything, let it be the reminder that life is short, love is unbending and no one knows what could happen next.
Thank you for reading this, and if you haven't already? Please tell someone you love them today.
I did.
DONATE: http://www.loveharder.org
CONTACT: theloveharderfund@gmail.com
FACEBOOK: http://facebook.loveharder.org
MORE INFO: http://www.themmrf.org
option b usually wins
ok kids. a little house cleaning first. it’s been a while since i made an attempt at a funny blog so it may take a while to get the wheels good and greased up (think dirty thoughts if you so choose, i was). i have been saving notes of odd things to throw in here, so i’ll get those out of the way and then move on to a magical fairy tale of mythical creatures, air guitar, and fat bottom girls. you’re welcome in advance.
odd thought #1: when it’s just you at home (or if you live alone) do you close the bathroom door? ran home yesterday on my lunch break, had to pee (yes, it was important to the story) and was closing the bathroom door when i suddenly had a moment of freedom: IT’S JUST ME HERE. I CAN PEE WITH THE DOOR OPEN. not quite sure why this was such a happy thought, but it was, and my day was better for it.
odd thought #2: if you don’t stop for a pedestrian at a crosswalk (not that any of us would ever NOT stop…but hypothetically you understand) does it make you feel less guilty when the car behind you doesn’t stop either? i always feel bad if i don’t stop for whatever reason and most times apologize (which they never hear cause i’m in my car…but whatever) but it always makes me feel LESS bad if the car behind me doesn’t stop either. if they DO stop i usually have a few choice words for them.* never with my kids in the car you understand…i mean, what kind of parent would not stop for pedestrians AND use 4 letter words? what kind of an example would that be? yeah….
*see choices listed below
odd thought #3: JUST REALIZED: santa really has the child labor thing figured out. i bet if kathy lee gifford had put little hats and pointy shoes on the kids in her factory she could have totally gotten away with it. GEN.IOUS. a few pointy hats, some slippers with bells on them, my kids could totally be helping pay the rent.
odd thought #4: was listening to a video blog this morning that contained the following phrase: “biblical happy meal” to described the fish/loaves experience. HAPPY IN THE PANTS. after wiping up the coffee that shot out my nose (not even kidding…you think white chocolate tastes good? it smells even better). do you have any idea the thought process that followed? biblical happy meals…what was the toy? moses parting the red sea? a rod that turned into a snake and back (the original transformer)? chariots of fire (the original hot wheels)? baby moses in the basket (obviously a bath toy)? fuck moses, i would have wanted rahab in a basket personally (she’s the hooker in the bible if you haven’t read it recently…escaped out a window in a basket. would have made a kick ass bond girl if you ask me). and then there’s the whole passing out of the happy meals…was it in the little box with the golden arch handles? did it come with a drink? were there huge containers of mystery orange drink? did they all get their own sprite? was there an option of chocolate milk? a biblical happy meal. video blog magic.
ok. house: cleaned. onto the real magic. can i even say it? do i need a warning label? “THIS BLOG CONTAINS MULLET”. yes. that’s right. mullet. seriously…giggling and clapping my hands like…hell, i can’t even think of anything…I’M THAT EXCITED.
so. friday night a few gals from work and i headed out for drinks and music. it was a pretty quiet evening for the most part with the exception that we somehow found ourselves in the middle of a few birthday parties with some “dresses” that looked more like a legging pulled up too high but whatever. (ladies: if you sit down on the chair and your BARE ASS is on the chair because there’s not enough dress to cover it, you may not call that a dress. yes, i’m jealous. shut up.) so there we are, enjoying food, drinks, listening to the REALLY OLD BAND (i think they were the house band at the opening of the garden of eden…sorry for all the biblical references today...you may consider it your church for the week) and i spot it. down below us on the main floor (bless balconies for their great vantage point). i blink. this CAN’T BE REAL. but it is. or i think it is. i swear on the soul of my father the devil: a mullet. a real, live, permtastic mullet. and this isn’t just some half ass mullet…all high and tight in the front, long in back…this is a FULL mullet. a full head of golden, curly, shagtastic mystical mullet goodness. what do you do in a moment like this? (besides the obvious asking for a towel for your chair)? i quickly pointed him out to the two gals i was with which drew the attention of one of the birthday group guys so he was included in rare spotting. we couldn’t believe it. a mullet. in our midst. STUPID CAMERA PHONE…couldn’t take a picture that far away in that low light. depressing. but we all saw it. four of us. we couldn’t all be having the same blessed dream, could we? and then…old as dirt (may have been the official band name…may be wrong) started up fat bottom girls. to understand the full additional magic that’s going on, you have to understand the full set of music that was going on. they had already played: little sister, my big green tractor, and the joker (among others that i can’t remember). it was an anything and everything in between type band. rounding it out with fat bottom girls. AND THE MULLET ON AIR GUITAR. oh yes. air guitar. in the middle of the bar. without spilling a drop of his beer. at this point, the 4 of us are IN AWE. full on awe. this can’t be real. a mullet. and air guitar. all in one night. so. the night continues, we go back to chatting, and suddenly i am smacked on the arm. THE MULLET IS ON THE BALCONY. less than 3 feet away from us. standing there. in all his golden mullet glory. complete with head toss. yes, a head toss to shake the golden locks. i think i heard angels at this point. or it could have been the ringing in my ears from the noise. either way. so birthday party boy is quickly informed and he comes up with a plan: this CAN’T be real…we need proof. he’s going to touch the mullet. i suggested actual petting of said mullet, but he decided to be a little less obvious and go with the casual bump against the shoulder as he walked by. whatevs. BUT HE COULDN’T DO IT. every time he got close, the mullet would move away. and there’s only a certain number of times you can try that move before people start getting worried and checking for their wallets. HE NEVER TOUCHED THE MULLET. he couldn’t do it. which proves the fact that we were in the presence of a mystical magical creature. like a unicorn. with a mullet. charlie…let’s go to candy mountain charlie…it’ll be an adventure charlie! (go youtube charlie the unicorn if you’re lost at this point. i’ll wait).
so. thinking back on it now, it may have ruined the night if actual touching of the mullet had been achieved. it may have ruined the mystique of it all. as it stands: the world may never know…
*choices: a) asshat b) fuckwit c) bastard d) god damn good samaritan e) fucking asshole that made me look like a bitch f) jim
odd thought #1: when it’s just you at home (or if you live alone) do you close the bathroom door? ran home yesterday on my lunch break, had to pee (yes, it was important to the story) and was closing the bathroom door when i suddenly had a moment of freedom: IT’S JUST ME HERE. I CAN PEE WITH THE DOOR OPEN. not quite sure why this was such a happy thought, but it was, and my day was better for it.
odd thought #2: if you don’t stop for a pedestrian at a crosswalk (not that any of us would ever NOT stop…but hypothetically you understand) does it make you feel less guilty when the car behind you doesn’t stop either? i always feel bad if i don’t stop for whatever reason and most times apologize (which they never hear cause i’m in my car…but whatever) but it always makes me feel LESS bad if the car behind me doesn’t stop either. if they DO stop i usually have a few choice words for them.* never with my kids in the car you understand…i mean, what kind of parent would not stop for pedestrians AND use 4 letter words? what kind of an example would that be? yeah….
*see choices listed below
odd thought #3: JUST REALIZED: santa really has the child labor thing figured out. i bet if kathy lee gifford had put little hats and pointy shoes on the kids in her factory she could have totally gotten away with it. GEN.IOUS. a few pointy hats, some slippers with bells on them, my kids could totally be helping pay the rent.
odd thought #4: was listening to a video blog this morning that contained the following phrase: “biblical happy meal” to described the fish/loaves experience. HAPPY IN THE PANTS. after wiping up the coffee that shot out my nose (not even kidding…you think white chocolate tastes good? it smells even better). do you have any idea the thought process that followed? biblical happy meals…what was the toy? moses parting the red sea? a rod that turned into a snake and back (the original transformer)? chariots of fire (the original hot wheels)? baby moses in the basket (obviously a bath toy)? fuck moses, i would have wanted rahab in a basket personally (she’s the hooker in the bible if you haven’t read it recently…escaped out a window in a basket. would have made a kick ass bond girl if you ask me). and then there’s the whole passing out of the happy meals…was it in the little box with the golden arch handles? did it come with a drink? were there huge containers of mystery orange drink? did they all get their own sprite? was there an option of chocolate milk? a biblical happy meal. video blog magic.
ok. house: cleaned. onto the real magic. can i even say it? do i need a warning label? “THIS BLOG CONTAINS MULLET”. yes. that’s right. mullet. seriously…giggling and clapping my hands like…hell, i can’t even think of anything…I’M THAT EXCITED.
so. friday night a few gals from work and i headed out for drinks and music. it was a pretty quiet evening for the most part with the exception that we somehow found ourselves in the middle of a few birthday parties with some “dresses” that looked more like a legging pulled up too high but whatever. (ladies: if you sit down on the chair and your BARE ASS is on the chair because there’s not enough dress to cover it, you may not call that a dress. yes, i’m jealous. shut up.) so there we are, enjoying food, drinks, listening to the REALLY OLD BAND (i think they were the house band at the opening of the garden of eden…sorry for all the biblical references today...you may consider it your church for the week) and i spot it. down below us on the main floor (bless balconies for their great vantage point). i blink. this CAN’T BE REAL. but it is. or i think it is. i swear on the soul of my father the devil: a mullet. a real, live, permtastic mullet. and this isn’t just some half ass mullet…all high and tight in the front, long in back…this is a FULL mullet. a full head of golden, curly, shagtastic mystical mullet goodness. what do you do in a moment like this? (besides the obvious asking for a towel for your chair)? i quickly pointed him out to the two gals i was with which drew the attention of one of the birthday group guys so he was included in rare spotting. we couldn’t believe it. a mullet. in our midst. STUPID CAMERA PHONE…couldn’t take a picture that far away in that low light. depressing. but we all saw it. four of us. we couldn’t all be having the same blessed dream, could we? and then…old as dirt (may have been the official band name…may be wrong) started up fat bottom girls. to understand the full additional magic that’s going on, you have to understand the full set of music that was going on. they had already played: little sister, my big green tractor, and the joker (among others that i can’t remember). it was an anything and everything in between type band. rounding it out with fat bottom girls. AND THE MULLET ON AIR GUITAR. oh yes. air guitar. in the middle of the bar. without spilling a drop of his beer. at this point, the 4 of us are IN AWE. full on awe. this can’t be real. a mullet. and air guitar. all in one night. so. the night continues, we go back to chatting, and suddenly i am smacked on the arm. THE MULLET IS ON THE BALCONY. less than 3 feet away from us. standing there. in all his golden mullet glory. complete with head toss. yes, a head toss to shake the golden locks. i think i heard angels at this point. or it could have been the ringing in my ears from the noise. either way. so birthday party boy is quickly informed and he comes up with a plan: this CAN’T be real…we need proof. he’s going to touch the mullet. i suggested actual petting of said mullet, but he decided to be a little less obvious and go with the casual bump against the shoulder as he walked by. whatevs. BUT HE COULDN’T DO IT. every time he got close, the mullet would move away. and there’s only a certain number of times you can try that move before people start getting worried and checking for their wallets. HE NEVER TOUCHED THE MULLET. he couldn’t do it. which proves the fact that we were in the presence of a mystical magical creature. like a unicorn. with a mullet. charlie…let’s go to candy mountain charlie…it’ll be an adventure charlie! (go youtube charlie the unicorn if you’re lost at this point. i’ll wait).
so. thinking back on it now, it may have ruined the night if actual touching of the mullet had been achieved. it may have ruined the mystique of it all. as it stands: the world may never know…
*choices: a) asshat b) fuckwit c) bastard d) god damn good samaritan e) fucking asshole that made me look like a bitch f) jim
Thursday, December 31, 2009
get the fuck out already 2009
holy fuck. i can’t even begin to believe that it’s the end of 2009 already. i’ve lost track of the last few months…i knew the year end was coming, but HOLY FUCK…it’s here. the only thing i can say to 2009 as it slinks out the door is FUCK YOU 2009. YOU SUCKED. and i know it wasn’t just for me…this year sucked for everyone all the way around as far as i can tell. the year started off like shit and went downhill from there. BUT. i will say, there have been good points, there have been GREAT points to the year, it wasn’t a TOTAL loss, and i do realize that as shitty as this year was, i have as much to kiss the ass of karma for as i have to bitch about. when all the chips are down i have a great stable job with a boss i love, my bills are for the first time in a long time under control and i don’t have the dark cloud of credit cards looming over me (hell, i don’t even have credit cards at all), i have a great house that keeps us warm and happy, the kids are healthy, the car runs, there’s food in the cupboards, i’ve had the chance to learn more about myself, i’ve had the chance to help others, i’ve loved and lost, i’ve grown, i’ve learned. and push comes to shove I’M STILL HERE TO SHOVE BACK. that, in and of itself, is more of a victory than can really be expressed. can’t be all bad when you look at it that way. but make no mistake, this year SUCKED in a hard core way. here’s a brief year end review from out house:
january found us buried under a fucking TON of snow. my dad came up to help us shovel out and clear of the roof (since that landlord could have given a fuck less) and ended up wrecking out his elbow for a while. thanks for nothing mother nature.
feburary started out with a bang- my fuckhead landlord called and told me he was selling the house and i needed to get out as soon as possible. the REAL story turned out to be he wasn’t so much selling as trying to avoid foreclosure. turns out my rent hadn’t been paying the mortgage in a LONG time. nice. well done asshole. so started the first move of the year. we found a cute house and packed up and moved. good news was that it helped me clean house and get rid of things that were just sitting around taking up space. cleaned out the boys clothes/toys, miscellaneous closets, pared down furniture that was collecting dust/stacks of things. so not all bad. later in february started the family scares: got a call that my mum was in the hospital in colville. i decided that in the end i would rather know that i checked in on her rather than wishing i had checked in. so i drove to colville and saw her for the first time in a long time. thank heavens we avoided anything too serious with that one. as much as my mum and i don’t get along, i’m glad she’s still around and healthy (now).
march saw my youngest spawn turning SIX already. six. DAMN. wasn’t he just learning to walk? his kindergarten year was a challenge. march i was in and out of the principal’s office trying to get him extra help since his teacher didn’t care one way or the other. good times. we did a family hockey game with my dad and my older brother (and families) for the birthday celebration- it was good to have everyone here for an evening. big dinner at the spaghetti factory, hockey game, much love all around. we don’t do that nearly enough.
april was the first big hit by the shit train. found out a friend died from a heart attack at the age of 36. no warning. just GONE. we had talked a week before about getting together for lunch. i learned that you need to stop TALKING to people about getting together and GET TOGETHER ALREADY. do it. don’t plan any more. just call someone up and GO. tell them you love them every chance you get. josh was a creative, crazy, amazing person that i miss. he’s the only guy to ever cook me dinner. the first screen play i’ve read from a real person. he had amazing stories about traveling everywhere and doing the things he loved in life. he loved his friends, he adored his family, he was an amazing person.
may and june don’t really stand out- i think that was the only reprieve the year gave us. i know we spent MUCH time with friends at the coffee social. so many great nights of games, music, talking, just being there. for a short while that was a haven where we could just go and be and fit in. so many great memories of early summer nights there. the rest of the time i know we were doing things- kindergarten graduation, fixing up the lawn/garden of the house we were renting, a HUGE bbq with friends (really? 12 ears of corn for 3 adults and 2 kids?!?) in june right before school let out my youngest spawn had his tonsils removed. my dad was able to come stay with us for a few days when that went down which was fun. i also just remembered that was about the time we found out my dad had developed type 2 diabetes- he was shocked that i already knew what things he could and couldn’t eat, was checking in on him about his sugar levels and such…had that scare/threat myself a few years ago…not my first time at that rodeo. around the end of june it started to sink in that half my child support was not coming in, so i started looking at budget options and started to mutter about maybe moving again, but nothing for sure at that point. take a deep breath. i should have. june passed mostly quietly into july and that’s when the shit really began to hit the fan.
july was one great big mess from beginning to end. i know we (the kids and i) managed a few baseball games and fun nights, we celebrated my oldest sons birthday at the ball park, enjoyed the 4th of july with my dad in zillah shooting off literally a truck load of fireworks (not even kidding…the back of a ford f250 FULL of fireworks…nice being near a reservation!). i decided near the beginning of july that moving again was really the only way to go financially- it was either move again and have a little breathing room, or stay where we were at and be TIGHT all the time. neither option was really great, but i’d rather move one more time and have things be ok than be over my head again. so the moving process started. again. the search, finding a place, getting a plan together, packing…then the second big shit train hit. july 27th i picked up the phone and found out my sons step mother and infant brother had BOTH died during child birth. yes, you read that right (and you may have read other blogs about that too). they BOTH died during child birth- actually going into child birth. FUCK YOU 2009. WHY? i don’t get it. i didn’t get it then, i still can’t wrap my head around it now. the world i think literally stopped for a few days at our house, and we were on the fringes of the shock wave. every day shifted from standard bullshit to whatever could be done to keep things together, support my son (and his dad), a double funeral, the world basically being turned over and having the fuck shaken out of it like a snow globe that you thought was safe up on the top shelf being knocked off and shattering all over the fucking place. how the fuck do you deal with something like that as a person? as a parent? as a friend? as ANYTHING? things like that aren’t supposed to happen. ~sigh~ but they do. we somehow made it through that shock wave with a dose of moving thrown in the middle just for fucks sake. settled into the new house (which we LOVE more than anything). the world was just starting to right itself again, i had let the universe know what i thought of the shit move it had pulled more than once, things were calming down just a little and another call came in. my little brother had been in an accident. welcome to the beginning of august.
august 7th i got a call first thing in the morning that my little brother was in ICU at a hospital in seattle in a coma. he had been in an accident on his bike (pedal bike) and had fractured his skull requiring 4 hours of neuro surgery to relieve the bleeding on his brain. he was “ok” other than that. so aside from having his head cut open he was just fine. GREAT. as the world goes, at the same time my car decided to hate me and threatened to quit running so i was not able to make it over to see him. REALLY UNIVERSE? something as simple as a road trip? the days after that became a waiting game for phone call updates on how he was doing, when he would be allowed out of the hospital, how he was recovering. he did make a good recovery, had to relearn a few things, but did really well for how bad it was (literally minutes from not making it). the summer calmed down after that- it ended beautifully with bbqs a few times a week at the new house, new friends, new people in my life that were wonderful. so many great nights. “pool” parties, great conversations, many good drinks, just a lot of great nights to smooth things over for a while. the kids and i geared up for back to school- a big change this year with my oldest one heading off to a new school for advanced kids, the youngest starting 1st grade.
september was a great month. i had the best birthday i’ve ever had. EVER. dinner with my dad, a night out with friends, it was really great. especially since it was a wednesday…but when you turn 29 on 9.9.09 you HAVE to do it up big! my little brother called me for the first time ever (such a sad thing to admit) on my birthday and i talked to him for the first time since his accident. he was happy and healthy and excited about life, planning a trip over to see us and see our house for the first time. september was overall a good month. nothing too exciting. which was GOOD. very good.
october started out nice and mellow, kids excited about halloween. we went started going to a support group as a family to help my oldest son learn how to deal with the huge loss he went through earlier that summer. i was able to go out a few nights with friends here and there, something i haven’t done in years (at least not as often as i was able to for a while). things were great. suck a nice change from the middle of the year chaos. october 24th i woke up to my phone ringing at 8 in the morning which is NEVER a good thing. my older brother was calling to let me know that the night before my little brother (the one that had just been in the accident) had decided to end his own life. if you’ve read any of the other blogs you knew what was coming. like the shitty build up to the shitty climax that no one wants to read. let alone twice. so that day i got in my car and drove down to see my dad. we ended up going over to seattle to clean out my brother’s apartment that weekend also. it was the first time i had ever seen where he lived. after he died. i finally made it over to see where he lived, only after he died. ugh. i’ve covered all that in other blogs. i won’t get into it again here. the next weekend was his funeral (happy halloween everyone). and so ended october.
although november was just last month, i honestly can’t remember any of it. i know we went to see my dad for thanksgiving…which would have just been a few weeks ago. i know we did the therapy with a whole new added set of bullshit to work through. the rest of it is a blur. and here we are at christmas and new year. i cant remember much of december either. the rest of this year has just been a blur or trying to keep it together, drama off and on with the kids, drama off and on in my life. i let myself get all attached to someone and then remembered why that’s never a good thing: insert plenty of drama here. basically, the year went from shitty to FUCKED UP in the matter of a few months with a few breaks in the middle, but not much to salvage the reputation as the worst fucking year ever. as much shit as happened to me, i know i made it off easy. friends, family, everyone has had shit dumping down in a never ending reign of terror. deaths, lost jobs, injuries, bills, heart break. no one has survived the year unscathed in one way or another.
i won’t go into the pollyanna parade of crap again, but i DO realize how damn lucky i am in the middle of all this. but, overall, 2009 can piss off and get the fuck out already. here’s hoping 2010 will be a better year FOR EVERYONE.
i’m finishing this, i promise: i really want to say (through the tears…yes, i’m crying) i sincerely hope, with everything that is in me, that everyone has a great new years. i hope everyone gets to start the year off right tonight with someone they love. i hope you all let the people in your lives know how much you care about them. i really hope that this year looks up for everyone and that we can all have an easier go at it. to all of you in my life that have made it through this last year with me: thank you for being there and for still being there (seriously, im going to flood my stupid keyboard). each of you is in my life for a special reason, and i hope i’m giving the same back to all of you. may this new year truly be a happy one for all of us.
january found us buried under a fucking TON of snow. my dad came up to help us shovel out and clear of the roof (since that landlord could have given a fuck less) and ended up wrecking out his elbow for a while. thanks for nothing mother nature.
feburary started out with a bang- my fuckhead landlord called and told me he was selling the house and i needed to get out as soon as possible. the REAL story turned out to be he wasn’t so much selling as trying to avoid foreclosure. turns out my rent hadn’t been paying the mortgage in a LONG time. nice. well done asshole. so started the first move of the year. we found a cute house and packed up and moved. good news was that it helped me clean house and get rid of things that were just sitting around taking up space. cleaned out the boys clothes/toys, miscellaneous closets, pared down furniture that was collecting dust/stacks of things. so not all bad. later in february started the family scares: got a call that my mum was in the hospital in colville. i decided that in the end i would rather know that i checked in on her rather than wishing i had checked in. so i drove to colville and saw her for the first time in a long time. thank heavens we avoided anything too serious with that one. as much as my mum and i don’t get along, i’m glad she’s still around and healthy (now).
march saw my youngest spawn turning SIX already. six. DAMN. wasn’t he just learning to walk? his kindergarten year was a challenge. march i was in and out of the principal’s office trying to get him extra help since his teacher didn’t care one way or the other. good times. we did a family hockey game with my dad and my older brother (and families) for the birthday celebration- it was good to have everyone here for an evening. big dinner at the spaghetti factory, hockey game, much love all around. we don’t do that nearly enough.
april was the first big hit by the shit train. found out a friend died from a heart attack at the age of 36. no warning. just GONE. we had talked a week before about getting together for lunch. i learned that you need to stop TALKING to people about getting together and GET TOGETHER ALREADY. do it. don’t plan any more. just call someone up and GO. tell them you love them every chance you get. josh was a creative, crazy, amazing person that i miss. he’s the only guy to ever cook me dinner. the first screen play i’ve read from a real person. he had amazing stories about traveling everywhere and doing the things he loved in life. he loved his friends, he adored his family, he was an amazing person.
may and june don’t really stand out- i think that was the only reprieve the year gave us. i know we spent MUCH time with friends at the coffee social. so many great nights of games, music, talking, just being there. for a short while that was a haven where we could just go and be and fit in. so many great memories of early summer nights there. the rest of the time i know we were doing things- kindergarten graduation, fixing up the lawn/garden of the house we were renting, a HUGE bbq with friends (really? 12 ears of corn for 3 adults and 2 kids?!?) in june right before school let out my youngest spawn had his tonsils removed. my dad was able to come stay with us for a few days when that went down which was fun. i also just remembered that was about the time we found out my dad had developed type 2 diabetes- he was shocked that i already knew what things he could and couldn’t eat, was checking in on him about his sugar levels and such…had that scare/threat myself a few years ago…not my first time at that rodeo. around the end of june it started to sink in that half my child support was not coming in, so i started looking at budget options and started to mutter about maybe moving again, but nothing for sure at that point. take a deep breath. i should have. june passed mostly quietly into july and that’s when the shit really began to hit the fan.
july was one great big mess from beginning to end. i know we (the kids and i) managed a few baseball games and fun nights, we celebrated my oldest sons birthday at the ball park, enjoyed the 4th of july with my dad in zillah shooting off literally a truck load of fireworks (not even kidding…the back of a ford f250 FULL of fireworks…nice being near a reservation!). i decided near the beginning of july that moving again was really the only way to go financially- it was either move again and have a little breathing room, or stay where we were at and be TIGHT all the time. neither option was really great, but i’d rather move one more time and have things be ok than be over my head again. so the moving process started. again. the search, finding a place, getting a plan together, packing…then the second big shit train hit. july 27th i picked up the phone and found out my sons step mother and infant brother had BOTH died during child birth. yes, you read that right (and you may have read other blogs about that too). they BOTH died during child birth- actually going into child birth. FUCK YOU 2009. WHY? i don’t get it. i didn’t get it then, i still can’t wrap my head around it now. the world i think literally stopped for a few days at our house, and we were on the fringes of the shock wave. every day shifted from standard bullshit to whatever could be done to keep things together, support my son (and his dad), a double funeral, the world basically being turned over and having the fuck shaken out of it like a snow globe that you thought was safe up on the top shelf being knocked off and shattering all over the fucking place. how the fuck do you deal with something like that as a person? as a parent? as a friend? as ANYTHING? things like that aren’t supposed to happen. ~sigh~ but they do. we somehow made it through that shock wave with a dose of moving thrown in the middle just for fucks sake. settled into the new house (which we LOVE more than anything). the world was just starting to right itself again, i had let the universe know what i thought of the shit move it had pulled more than once, things were calming down just a little and another call came in. my little brother had been in an accident. welcome to the beginning of august.
august 7th i got a call first thing in the morning that my little brother was in ICU at a hospital in seattle in a coma. he had been in an accident on his bike (pedal bike) and had fractured his skull requiring 4 hours of neuro surgery to relieve the bleeding on his brain. he was “ok” other than that. so aside from having his head cut open he was just fine. GREAT. as the world goes, at the same time my car decided to hate me and threatened to quit running so i was not able to make it over to see him. REALLY UNIVERSE? something as simple as a road trip? the days after that became a waiting game for phone call updates on how he was doing, when he would be allowed out of the hospital, how he was recovering. he did make a good recovery, had to relearn a few things, but did really well for how bad it was (literally minutes from not making it). the summer calmed down after that- it ended beautifully with bbqs a few times a week at the new house, new friends, new people in my life that were wonderful. so many great nights. “pool” parties, great conversations, many good drinks, just a lot of great nights to smooth things over for a while. the kids and i geared up for back to school- a big change this year with my oldest one heading off to a new school for advanced kids, the youngest starting 1st grade.
september was a great month. i had the best birthday i’ve ever had. EVER. dinner with my dad, a night out with friends, it was really great. especially since it was a wednesday…but when you turn 29 on 9.9.09 you HAVE to do it up big! my little brother called me for the first time ever (such a sad thing to admit) on my birthday and i talked to him for the first time since his accident. he was happy and healthy and excited about life, planning a trip over to see us and see our house for the first time. september was overall a good month. nothing too exciting. which was GOOD. very good.
october started out nice and mellow, kids excited about halloween. we went started going to a support group as a family to help my oldest son learn how to deal with the huge loss he went through earlier that summer. i was able to go out a few nights with friends here and there, something i haven’t done in years (at least not as often as i was able to for a while). things were great. suck a nice change from the middle of the year chaos. october 24th i woke up to my phone ringing at 8 in the morning which is NEVER a good thing. my older brother was calling to let me know that the night before my little brother (the one that had just been in the accident) had decided to end his own life. if you’ve read any of the other blogs you knew what was coming. like the shitty build up to the shitty climax that no one wants to read. let alone twice. so that day i got in my car and drove down to see my dad. we ended up going over to seattle to clean out my brother’s apartment that weekend also. it was the first time i had ever seen where he lived. after he died. i finally made it over to see where he lived, only after he died. ugh. i’ve covered all that in other blogs. i won’t get into it again here. the next weekend was his funeral (happy halloween everyone). and so ended october.
although november was just last month, i honestly can’t remember any of it. i know we went to see my dad for thanksgiving…which would have just been a few weeks ago. i know we did the therapy with a whole new added set of bullshit to work through. the rest of it is a blur. and here we are at christmas and new year. i cant remember much of december either. the rest of this year has just been a blur or trying to keep it together, drama off and on with the kids, drama off and on in my life. i let myself get all attached to someone and then remembered why that’s never a good thing: insert plenty of drama here. basically, the year went from shitty to FUCKED UP in the matter of a few months with a few breaks in the middle, but not much to salvage the reputation as the worst fucking year ever. as much shit as happened to me, i know i made it off easy. friends, family, everyone has had shit dumping down in a never ending reign of terror. deaths, lost jobs, injuries, bills, heart break. no one has survived the year unscathed in one way or another.
i won’t go into the pollyanna parade of crap again, but i DO realize how damn lucky i am in the middle of all this. but, overall, 2009 can piss off and get the fuck out already. here’s hoping 2010 will be a better year FOR EVERYONE.
i’m finishing this, i promise: i really want to say (through the tears…yes, i’m crying) i sincerely hope, with everything that is in me, that everyone has a great new years. i hope everyone gets to start the year off right tonight with someone they love. i hope you all let the people in your lives know how much you care about them. i really hope that this year looks up for everyone and that we can all have an easier go at it. to all of you in my life that have made it through this last year with me: thank you for being there and for still being there (seriously, im going to flood my stupid keyboard). each of you is in my life for a special reason, and i hope i’m giving the same back to all of you. may this new year truly be a happy one for all of us.
Friday, December 11, 2009
trying to explain depression
so i battle depression. and by battle i mean full on gladiator style battle some days. a dohyo face off with the world’s biggest sumo wrestler. most people kinda get it- they’ve had bad days or been sad about something. some have no clue and like to mock depression as stupid/weak/imaginary. until recently i’ve never really thought of a way to fully explain it. explain what it feels, like, how real it is, anything in a way that makes sense. i think this explains it. for me anyway:
remember when you were a kid and your big brother thought it would be funny to hold you under a huge thick blanket and keep you there as long as he could? yeah…it’s like that. like being trapped under grandma’s giant afghan (and yes, i very specifically picked an afghan) until you screamed uncle. and even then most times my brother still wouldn’t let me up. it’s like that. an afghan: it’s huge and heavy and dark but there are always little places where light pokes through and sometimes you can find an edge to pull back. depression is like that. you’re trapped under this huge, heavy, dark blanket fighting like hell to find an edge or a way to get out but in the mean time every once in a while you can see little spots of light that give you a little hope and let you know that at least you’re not stuck under the blanket AND locked in the trunk of the car AND on the way to be encased in cement (if my brother could have thought of it…he would have).
and i get that depression is so different for everyone. the things they’re dealing with are different. the way they experience it and how much it impacts them is different. but for me, people can’t understand my depression. yes, i’m depressed, i’m stuck under this huge fucking blanket being smothered and fighting like hell to try to get out, but during the fight there’s these spots of light. those are moments of happiness, breaks in the clouds.
just because i’m depressed doesn’t mean i don’t have good moments and just because i have good moments doesn’t mean i’m not depressed.
even in the worst of it i will still try to crack a joke or enjoy a moment or sing along with a song. i still try to put on my happy face (which i suck at by the way). i’m sure everyone knows something is off. i know i’m not fooling anyone, i know i’m not good at hiding shit, and part of me thinks i shouldn’t have to, but at the same time they don’t know how deep it is. but there’s these holes in the afghan…i’m peeking out through those, reminding myself what’s on the outside and what i’m fighting to get back to. little glimpses of light and life. if i do have a few good moments, it doesn’t mean i’m “cured” it just means i had a moment where i saw a little light. i’m still stuck. i’m still trapped under that huge fucking weight with the universe sitting on my chest laughing and not letting me up. but then there’s times when you actually feel like you’re winning the battle…you manage to find an edge and peek out and get a breath and feel like yourself again, but then big brother notices and ducks you back under the blanket for another round and usually packs an extra punch just because. those are the most frustrating. you think you’re clear, you think you’re out…then just as suddenly, you’re not. i don’t know if it ever goes away. when i was a kid my brother would get bored or get in trouble and have to let me out…i’m not sure real depression plays by those rules. in fact, i’m pretty damn sure it doesn’t play by any rules.
and i’ve had doctors and people tell me that there are medications to help. and i’ve tried a few. and i will never try any again. they make the crazy worse (again, just me speaking). they say right on the package it will take MONTHS, yes MONTHS to adjust to them and know if they’re working and then MONTHS to wean yourself off of them if you ever want to stop. umm…no thanks. i still have to function in the mean time. i don’t exactly have a few months away from kids and life to try to adjust to some medication that may or may not work. they also say exercise is the answer- is there anything exercise ISN’T the answer to? fucking retards. i’m sure it works at some point. it gives you something to focus on and i’m sure it helps you feel better physically eventually (although everyone that i know that works out complains about always being sore…sooo…). and i’m sure whatever else goes with it is magical shit on a cloud, but i just can’t get into it. never have. i’m one of those people that has spent THOUSANDS on exercise equipment and videos and trying to get into it- i’ve had the gazelle, the elliptical, the videos, the exercise balls, the yoga mats…i just can’t get into it.
what’s the point of this? what am i really trying to say? i don’t know. i just want to say it’s real. and i’m fighting it. but i get tired. and i get worse. and i get better. it goes around and around. but it’s real. it’s very real. please don’t tell me on the days when i want to give up that i’m just being weak and stupid. please understand that i’ve been battling this for as long as i can remember and i get tired. i get exhausted. please don’t laugh at me or think it’s all fake just because i have a good moment or a good day or a good week. some days i’m stronger than others. some days a kindergartner hopped up on pixie sticks could kick my ass. it’s just been so frustrating listening to people say that my brother was weak and cowardly and gave up or couldn’t deal when he took his own life. i don’t see it that way. i think because i’ve fought the battles he fought. i’m still fucking fighting them. and if anything, his death has scared the fucking shit out of me because if he lost the fight…who’s to say i won’t? and i know it’s a personal choice and it’s a personal decision to continue on or not. but i understand why he chose not. i understand how tired and hurt and broken he felt. and more than once i’ve wanted to make the same choice. and more than once i’ve felt that it was too much and wanted a way out.
i guess i just want people to understand it better. understand me better. that’s all.
remember when you were a kid and your big brother thought it would be funny to hold you under a huge thick blanket and keep you there as long as he could? yeah…it’s like that. like being trapped under grandma’s giant afghan (and yes, i very specifically picked an afghan) until you screamed uncle. and even then most times my brother still wouldn’t let me up. it’s like that. an afghan: it’s huge and heavy and dark but there are always little places where light pokes through and sometimes you can find an edge to pull back. depression is like that. you’re trapped under this huge, heavy, dark blanket fighting like hell to find an edge or a way to get out but in the mean time every once in a while you can see little spots of light that give you a little hope and let you know that at least you’re not stuck under the blanket AND locked in the trunk of the car AND on the way to be encased in cement (if my brother could have thought of it…he would have).
and i get that depression is so different for everyone. the things they’re dealing with are different. the way they experience it and how much it impacts them is different. but for me, people can’t understand my depression. yes, i’m depressed, i’m stuck under this huge fucking blanket being smothered and fighting like hell to try to get out, but during the fight there’s these spots of light. those are moments of happiness, breaks in the clouds.
just because i’m depressed doesn’t mean i don’t have good moments and just because i have good moments doesn’t mean i’m not depressed.
even in the worst of it i will still try to crack a joke or enjoy a moment or sing along with a song. i still try to put on my happy face (which i suck at by the way). i’m sure everyone knows something is off. i know i’m not fooling anyone, i know i’m not good at hiding shit, and part of me thinks i shouldn’t have to, but at the same time they don’t know how deep it is. but there’s these holes in the afghan…i’m peeking out through those, reminding myself what’s on the outside and what i’m fighting to get back to. little glimpses of light and life. if i do have a few good moments, it doesn’t mean i’m “cured” it just means i had a moment where i saw a little light. i’m still stuck. i’m still trapped under that huge fucking weight with the universe sitting on my chest laughing and not letting me up. but then there’s times when you actually feel like you’re winning the battle…you manage to find an edge and peek out and get a breath and feel like yourself again, but then big brother notices and ducks you back under the blanket for another round and usually packs an extra punch just because. those are the most frustrating. you think you’re clear, you think you’re out…then just as suddenly, you’re not. i don’t know if it ever goes away. when i was a kid my brother would get bored or get in trouble and have to let me out…i’m not sure real depression plays by those rules. in fact, i’m pretty damn sure it doesn’t play by any rules.
and i’ve had doctors and people tell me that there are medications to help. and i’ve tried a few. and i will never try any again. they make the crazy worse (again, just me speaking). they say right on the package it will take MONTHS, yes MONTHS to adjust to them and know if they’re working and then MONTHS to wean yourself off of them if you ever want to stop. umm…no thanks. i still have to function in the mean time. i don’t exactly have a few months away from kids and life to try to adjust to some medication that may or may not work. they also say exercise is the answer- is there anything exercise ISN’T the answer to? fucking retards. i’m sure it works at some point. it gives you something to focus on and i’m sure it helps you feel better physically eventually (although everyone that i know that works out complains about always being sore…sooo…). and i’m sure whatever else goes with it is magical shit on a cloud, but i just can’t get into it. never have. i’m one of those people that has spent THOUSANDS on exercise equipment and videos and trying to get into it- i’ve had the gazelle, the elliptical, the videos, the exercise balls, the yoga mats…i just can’t get into it.
what’s the point of this? what am i really trying to say? i don’t know. i just want to say it’s real. and i’m fighting it. but i get tired. and i get worse. and i get better. it goes around and around. but it’s real. it’s very real. please don’t tell me on the days when i want to give up that i’m just being weak and stupid. please understand that i’ve been battling this for as long as i can remember and i get tired. i get exhausted. please don’t laugh at me or think it’s all fake just because i have a good moment or a good day or a good week. some days i’m stronger than others. some days a kindergartner hopped up on pixie sticks could kick my ass. it’s just been so frustrating listening to people say that my brother was weak and cowardly and gave up or couldn’t deal when he took his own life. i don’t see it that way. i think because i’ve fought the battles he fought. i’m still fucking fighting them. and if anything, his death has scared the fucking shit out of me because if he lost the fight…who’s to say i won’t? and i know it’s a personal choice and it’s a personal decision to continue on or not. but i understand why he chose not. i understand how tired and hurt and broken he felt. and more than once i’ve wanted to make the same choice. and more than once i’ve felt that it was too much and wanted a way out.
i guess i just want people to understand it better. understand me better. that’s all.
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