My nightmares have jolted me awake the last, hell, almost 2 years. They've been worse than ever this past week. In the last four days alone I've maybe gotten seven hours of sleep. The imagery and the undeniable pain that goes along with these nightmares are nearly indescribable. The best way I can try to explain it, is to share the image I see in a particular moment in my nightmares. A sharp serrated blade ripping up from my foot, twisting through my knee at its end. My muscles and nerves being torn from my flesh and bone. Not dissimilar to that of a fish being gutted. It takes every ounce of my being to steady my breathing after screaming myself awake. Followed by being unable to fall back asleep while the pictures are seared into my eyelids. All I can hope for is one peaceful nights sleep. Writing about it helps a little as I would hate to bottle all of that up. At least this gets it out of my head for awhile.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Monday, November 4, 2013
Abideen
I'm making a fast friend here in the community room. There is a quite old man from Afghanistan, his primary language is Persian and his English is quite broken. That hasn't stopped him from trying to be personable and kind. He brought over blueberry scones for us to share as we watched Wheel of Fortune together. Halfway through the show a deaf gal came into the room and Abideen was able to sign in ASL to speak with her easily. I find this so amazing that a man who came to America knowing no English was able to learn Sign Language to help him learn to communicate. There is something so beautiful about two people from two backgrounds and cultures being able to get to know each other when it would be so easy for either of them to be secluded.
Over the last half hour or so, roughly 5 people have come into the community room and Abideen as perked up and said hello to all of them by name and they all respond with genuine happiness. My hope is that even a fraction of my generation can be as kind and warm as him when we reach his age.
Today, Abideen has taught me a few new words in sign language and how to write my name in Persian. He has also taught me how kindness can impact different people and bring a smile to peoples faces. What a good day!
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Not all dreams that stick with you are good.
I recently had a most disturbing dream. Last week I awoke and couldn't get these images out of my head. It's like I lived them. I can't imagine it ever happening in real life. Let me share it with you now.
It started with me driving down the road on my way to the grocery store to stockpile for a road trip, I started seeing people spin out of control and crash their cars. I was mortified as I witnessed a gold minivan run into a black two door at such speeds that the van barrel rolled over the car, landing in a fiery ball of steel and fiberglass. At first I assumed that a tire blew or someone was texting. Then I noticed a cloud-like swirl creeping towards me. As I realized something was very wrong, I began to feel dizzy. I noticed that fog was rolling towards the north. That had to be it! What the hell was it and how could I avoid it? My gut told me it was awful and to avoid it at all costs. I decided getting out of my vehicle was a bad idea so I drove the little RV I rented earlier in the day as far south as I could get. I knew I couldn't out run the wind to the North, my best chance was to get past wherever the originating point was. I had no clue where that was though. Did something happen at a nearby warehouse or did a oil tanker tip on the interstate? I didn't want to wait to find out. I figured I'd out run the smoke and get a clear head. There was a sense of urgency in everyone's road manners, or lack there of. All traffic laws went down the drain. There was a mass panic and only one goal on every drivers mind. Survive. For me, that meant tearing my camper van through yards, between houses and crashing through a chain linked fence to forge my own On-Ramp to the interstate. Driving down the map I could sense myself slowly fading. Not unlike hours of driving at night but willing yourself to keep going because you were 20 minutes from home. My determination diminished as I hit the gridlock where I would pray I would wake up from this living Hell. What I saw through my windshield was horrifying. There were hundreds of people outside of their cars hoping they could make it past the bottleneck on foot. Men were ushering weeping women and carrying lifeless loved ones, mostly children. Each person pushing forward were trying different tactics to survive. Some held their shirts over their mouths, a couple conspiracy theorists had gas masks at the ready, others more fit determined if they ran that nothing could affect them. All of it was for not. Every last man, woman and child had been infected. I witnessed some of them in their last moments of bravery trying to save one another before eventually succumbing to deaths sweet kiss. It was at that moment when I accepted I wasn't going to move an inch. The RV's engine sputtered to a stop and I took my phone to call my parents one last time. I knew in my heart I wasn't going to escape this, if only I could say goodbye and hear their voices one last time. Grabbing my phone from my pocket, my heart hit the floor, the battery was dead. I didn't want to meet this miserable fate alone. As I broke down into what I can only describe as my last pleas for life. A loud noise stood out over my sobs from the back of the RV. Upon turning my head I saw two kids, a boy and a girl, playing at the table. They sneaked in from the door at the back of the automobile, it was still ajar letting in the gases full force. In a fury I kicked them out only to get into a scuffle with their mom. I told her off about being an inattentive mother and started crying as I wished to speak with my mom one last time before I met my end to this anonymous murderer. This woman instantly melted and took me in her arms to comfort me. Her husband slightly behind her handed me his phone with a reasonable charge. I was so grateful and allowed the whole family to come on board after the that kindness was shown to me by them. They could have easily been mean and rude back to me, but this family would not let death take away their humanity to others. Before I dialed, I asked if anyone knew our silent foe. My question was met with a grave answer. A massive bomb, so strong that the initial blast yielded zero survivors to warn of the event. Investigators went there almost immediately after the drop and were dead within minutes. It was believed to have contained both Sarin and Mustard gases. It had been diluted by the elements by the time it reached my home, but not enough to make it safe by any means. Upon hearing that news I attempted to call my dad, but kept messing up his phone number. I was incapable of thinking straight, my motor functions and memory were shutting down rapidly. After about 20 failed tries, I moved on to my moms number. It was the same thing, but alas! She answered! I felt at peace hearing my moms voice. She started to say something but I cut her off. I told her she needed to know about the bomb and protect herself before the gases reached her house hundreds of miles away. I told her I was stuck in gridlock and positive I was minutes from death. I felt it in my chest before I called. I told her I loved her and just wanted to hear her voice, maybe she could read to me? My mom asked me if I could see all the lights around me as people were stepping into them. Not unlike one of our favorite shows to watch together about ghosts finding their afterlives. I was astonished! I could see it!! I watched as families of innocent lost souls crossed over. Not understanding how my mom knew what I was seeing, I asked her why she could see what I could? How could she?? My mom just audibly whispered in my ear to ask me to turn around. There she was!! She had been there the whole time. There was no way I could have been speaking to her on the phone. The phone was beeping a busy signal while laying on the floor. Her spirit was feet from me. She was dead...my mom was gone. I cried for her. She wrapped her arms around me tightly as if waiting to catch another giant sob. That's when it clicked, I had never seen or spoken with a ghost before, and I certainly shouldn't have been able to feel her warm embrace. Frantically, I looked around until my eyes laid upon a site I wont soon forget. My lifeless body leaning against the table as if I had just fallen asleep. I looked sadly peaceful in my death. It was wrong for me to be there gazing upon my last moment frozen on Earth. With that, my mom grabbed my hand the same way she did on my first day of kindergarten and smiled at me. She said, "Let's go, Sweetie." And with that we walked together into the light to find our next adventure, hand in hand.
It started with me driving down the road on my way to the grocery store to stockpile for a road trip, I started seeing people spin out of control and crash their cars. I was mortified as I witnessed a gold minivan run into a black two door at such speeds that the van barrel rolled over the car, landing in a fiery ball of steel and fiberglass. At first I assumed that a tire blew or someone was texting. Then I noticed a cloud-like swirl creeping towards me. As I realized something was very wrong, I began to feel dizzy. I noticed that fog was rolling towards the north. That had to be it! What the hell was it and how could I avoid it? My gut told me it was awful and to avoid it at all costs. I decided getting out of my vehicle was a bad idea so I drove the little RV I rented earlier in the day as far south as I could get. I knew I couldn't out run the wind to the North, my best chance was to get past wherever the originating point was. I had no clue where that was though. Did something happen at a nearby warehouse or did a oil tanker tip on the interstate? I didn't want to wait to find out. I figured I'd out run the smoke and get a clear head. There was a sense of urgency in everyone's road manners, or lack there of. All traffic laws went down the drain. There was a mass panic and only one goal on every drivers mind. Survive. For me, that meant tearing my camper van through yards, between houses and crashing through a chain linked fence to forge my own On-Ramp to the interstate. Driving down the map I could sense myself slowly fading. Not unlike hours of driving at night but willing yourself to keep going because you were 20 minutes from home. My determination diminished as I hit the gridlock where I would pray I would wake up from this living Hell. What I saw through my windshield was horrifying. There were hundreds of people outside of their cars hoping they could make it past the bottleneck on foot. Men were ushering weeping women and carrying lifeless loved ones, mostly children. Each person pushing forward were trying different tactics to survive. Some held their shirts over their mouths, a couple conspiracy theorists had gas masks at the ready, others more fit determined if they ran that nothing could affect them. All of it was for not. Every last man, woman and child had been infected. I witnessed some of them in their last moments of bravery trying to save one another before eventually succumbing to deaths sweet kiss. It was at that moment when I accepted I wasn't going to move an inch. The RV's engine sputtered to a stop and I took my phone to call my parents one last time. I knew in my heart I wasn't going to escape this, if only I could say goodbye and hear their voices one last time. Grabbing my phone from my pocket, my heart hit the floor, the battery was dead. I didn't want to meet this miserable fate alone. As I broke down into what I can only describe as my last pleas for life. A loud noise stood out over my sobs from the back of the RV. Upon turning my head I saw two kids, a boy and a girl, playing at the table. They sneaked in from the door at the back of the automobile, it was still ajar letting in the gases full force. In a fury I kicked them out only to get into a scuffle with their mom. I told her off about being an inattentive mother and started crying as I wished to speak with my mom one last time before I met my end to this anonymous murderer. This woman instantly melted and took me in her arms to comfort me. Her husband slightly behind her handed me his phone with a reasonable charge. I was so grateful and allowed the whole family to come on board after the that kindness was shown to me by them. They could have easily been mean and rude back to me, but this family would not let death take away their humanity to others. Before I dialed, I asked if anyone knew our silent foe. My question was met with a grave answer. A massive bomb, so strong that the initial blast yielded zero survivors to warn of the event. Investigators went there almost immediately after the drop and were dead within minutes. It was believed to have contained both Sarin and Mustard gases. It had been diluted by the elements by the time it reached my home, but not enough to make it safe by any means. Upon hearing that news I attempted to call my dad, but kept messing up his phone number. I was incapable of thinking straight, my motor functions and memory were shutting down rapidly. After about 20 failed tries, I moved on to my moms number. It was the same thing, but alas! She answered! I felt at peace hearing my moms voice. She started to say something but I cut her off. I told her she needed to know about the bomb and protect herself before the gases reached her house hundreds of miles away. I told her I was stuck in gridlock and positive I was minutes from death. I felt it in my chest before I called. I told her I loved her and just wanted to hear her voice, maybe she could read to me? My mom asked me if I could see all the lights around me as people were stepping into them. Not unlike one of our favorite shows to watch together about ghosts finding their afterlives. I was astonished! I could see it!! I watched as families of innocent lost souls crossed over. Not understanding how my mom knew what I was seeing, I asked her why she could see what I could? How could she?? My mom just audibly whispered in my ear to ask me to turn around. There she was!! She had been there the whole time. There was no way I could have been speaking to her on the phone. The phone was beeping a busy signal while laying on the floor. Her spirit was feet from me. She was dead...my mom was gone. I cried for her. She wrapped her arms around me tightly as if waiting to catch another giant sob. That's when it clicked, I had never seen or spoken with a ghost before, and I certainly shouldn't have been able to feel her warm embrace. Frantically, I looked around until my eyes laid upon a site I wont soon forget. My lifeless body leaning against the table as if I had just fallen asleep. I looked sadly peaceful in my death. It was wrong for me to be there gazing upon my last moment frozen on Earth. With that, my mom grabbed my hand the same way she did on my first day of kindergarten and smiled at me. She said, "Let's go, Sweetie." And with that we walked together into the light to find our next adventure, hand in hand.
Saturday, September 7, 2013
bully snap
What is it that causes a person to snap? I knew a girl, Molly, who was consistently happy, loving and full of life. She didn't judge people and was there for her friends. Then out of the blue, she was distant, off putting, closed off and complained whenever other people complained. She went as far as to accuse people of being hypocrites without knowing the situation. Another of our friends, Kylie, recently got a new tattoo on her hip and some killer new heals. Now this girl is dead broke, more so than me lol. Molly jumped to conclusions and accused this poor girl of poor money management and told her to spend her money more wisely before she spent it on heals and tattoos. Little did she know, Kylies tattoo was bought with a gift certificate she got for her birthday and the heals were found at a rummage sale for 3 dollars.
I know Molly must have gone through something for her attitude to shift so suddenly and boldly, but I don't know what it was. All I know is that she is turning into a bully and I don't like what I see. I wish I could help her. If only she seemed to want it....
I know Molly must have gone through something for her attitude to shift so suddenly and boldly, but I don't know what it was. All I know is that she is turning into a bully and I don't like what I see. I wish I could help her. If only she seemed to want it....
Saturday, August 31, 2013
Tough Day: Surviving the Bullshit.
I felt like a lesser version of myself today. I have a past of anger, aggression and being easily hurt. I used my anger as a twisted coping method. Over the better part of my life, roughly 17 years, I took out my problems in very negative ways. I hurt myself physically, mentally and emotionally. At a week shy of seventeen I thought the solution was suicide. I locked myself in the bathroom and prepared to say goodbye to the harsh world I was living in. Recalling the head space I was in, just to write this, is bringing me to tears. I was ready to get rid of my childhood abuser, the multitude of bullies who wrote on my locker, cut my hair and said they wished I was dead already. I was tired of my divorced parents bickering and belittling each other to make the other look better. It would always start like, "I don't want to talk badly about your mom/dad but when they do this...." I was missing my brother who was off in the military. I was alone. That was the worst feeling in the world.
Before the attempted suicide, I would ball up all that hatred and project it on others. I would curse at my teachers, throw things, threaten peers who bullied me. I stood up for myself, I protected myself. In the worst way. I didn't understand how my attitude was perpetuating all of that ire. I just knew how great it felt to release it onto another person. I found a sick joy out of seeing other people hurt because for that fraction of a moment, it wasn't me. I wasn't the one in pain.
After the failed attempt (which I now prefer to think of as a 'Success at Life') I was institutionalized for depression, severe anger and lack of rationalizing what inappropriate behavior was. I spent months in a high security facility hours away from my home.
During that time I was continuously monitored and corrected when incorrect behavior was used. Positive behavior was also reinforced with rewards. I had an amazing ex-military woman as my mentor. She helped me learn things about myself that I had no idea I possessed. By closely examining my life up until that point I was able to link where I was learning the bad in life and not seeing any good to balance it out. I was finding pieces to a puzzle that I didn't know were missing.
While learning valuable life lessons. I started to see the good in people and life. I learned about true inner beauty. I learned about what it means to care about someone, not because you know or like them, but because it is my job as a human being.
I've spent the last 6 years of my life applying those lessons. It's difficult sometimes to see the good in others or to put differences aside. I have improved beyond measure in this area. A fleeting questionable look from across the room would put me into full blown 'Bitch, I'm going to set you straight' mood. Now, it takes a lot to push my buttons and when pushed, the reaction is a grain of said compared to all the Earths beaches one would've gotten when I was 15.
I'm not proud of what I did in my past. That being said, I am proud of the amazing strides I have made, despite a couple traumatizing setbacks, over the past six years. I'm proud that I've been able to keep my cool for months at a time and when I do get upset, it's solved by a half hour cruising in my car. I'm proud that I can walk away from a situation.
That's what I attempted to do today. I felt attacked by a person I deal with often. It's nothing new, I'm constantly belittled by this person. They make snide remarks to me, are not afraid to rip me a new one with their opinions, but refuse to hear me out. I believe I am capable to make a positive difference in what we do but I am undervalued and over ridiculed. Today I had enough and excused myself to have a breather. I openly expressed that I needed to exit the situation to calm down.
My private space was disrespected severely and I became old me for a split second. It was mortifying. It was over as soon as it started. I realized what I had done the mili-second I said it. I am ashamed of myself for that nano second of time. However, I'm extremely happy that I realized that. That shows amazing growth. The fact that I can acknowledge that I was attacked and my response was totally uncalled for shows that I can be accountable for my mistakes. I was prepared for whatever punishment I would get, and thankfully, I can live with it.
I guess the whole point of this story can be summed up by something my mom said today when I called her about what happened. She said*paraphrased*: "Life is all about learning. You make mistakes and you grow from them so you can help others." Then she said something I wasn't expecting. I expected her to be very disappointed in me. She showed me wrong. She said: "Gayle, you have been to Hell in your life, I'm proud of how you've dealt with everything and the person you've became. Others benefit from hard lessons you've learned that I'm just now learning. What you did today was unfavorable, but you did the right thing. You exited the situation, I'm surprised that the person who followed you only got an F-bomb." :)
It's all about how you learn and move on. For me, I acknowledge what emotions I was going through, the actions I took, and what I need to do in the future. Now that I've processed my feelings, I can sleep peacefully and prepare to walk back into the lions den tomorrow.
As usual, I'm not going to re-read or edit this. These are my feelings and personal situations. I know some details are vague, and that's alright. I just needed to let some thoughts off my mind. Thank you. -Gayle
Monday, August 26, 2013
Changes
So a lot has happened in the last few days. I won't discuss the dirty details as such would take far to long. "Ain't nobody got time for that!" Tomorrow will be a long day so I better rest up...I do need to get some bullet points off my mind first.
* I've had allies turn sour, and unexpected acquaintances turn to strong supporters.
* I faced a scary doctor appointment to get the best-worst case scenario in regards to an aspect of my health.
* I will have to continue to monitor this diagnosis closely for some time.
* I've traveled a few hundred miles to pick up a car my brother passed down to me due to his moving to Asia.
* My "girls" made it on The Chive! (FLBP of course)
* I am very 'nervous' about my doctors appointment tomorrow to re-evaluate my nerve damage from the hit and run.
* Yes, I made a pun out of that last bullet point. It made me smirk.
* By the time I get to my appointment tomorrow, I will have been from the North side of my state to the South side in less than 24 hours.
* That isn't impressive if you drive straight through, but considering I live in the middle and will be doing it over the course of two afternoons, it's pretty cool.
* By the time I get back home, I'd have driven the N/S interstate twice! :)
* I'm a lucky girl. I have friends, family and a wonderful boyfriend who all care about me and I just adore.
* Even though life isn't perfect and times are extremely difficult for me right now, I'll always find a way to smile.
Night.
* I've had allies turn sour, and unexpected acquaintances turn to strong supporters.
* I faced a scary doctor appointment to get the best-worst case scenario in regards to an aspect of my health.
* I will have to continue to monitor this diagnosis closely for some time.
* I've traveled a few hundred miles to pick up a car my brother passed down to me due to his moving to Asia.
* My "girls" made it on The Chive! (FLBP of course)
* I am very 'nervous' about my doctors appointment tomorrow to re-evaluate my nerve damage from the hit and run.
* Yes, I made a pun out of that last bullet point. It made me smirk.
* By the time I get to my appointment tomorrow, I will have been from the North side of my state to the South side in less than 24 hours.
* That isn't impressive if you drive straight through, but considering I live in the middle and will be doing it over the course of two afternoons, it's pretty cool.
* By the time I get back home, I'd have driven the N/S interstate twice! :)
* I'm a lucky girl. I have friends, family and a wonderful boyfriend who all care about me and I just adore.
* Even though life isn't perfect and times are extremely difficult for me right now, I'll always find a way to smile.
Night.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Compliments and Generosity
Do you see yourself as someone deserving of compliments? Do you light up and beam a smile when receiving a compliment or are you inclined to become nervous and reject it?
As a teenager, I was absolutely the kind to put my head down and think a person was surely wrong for saying a nice encouragement to me. I didn't feel worthy of feeling liked by another person. My self confidence was shot down in my youth by family members telling me I was a stupid bitch and classmates telling me they 'hated me because I was ugly'. So in my teen years it was no wonder why I'd be suspicious of being told my long hair was pretty or was good at math. I was convinced that this was a new tactic for the bullies to hurt me. I was sure they were lying to me and the moment I believed them, they would make fun of me for buying it. I wasn't about to let them win! When in reality, I was the one losing. I learned that paranoia over 15 years and boy did it grow into something fierce!
In my life today, I get the most satisfying joy when I compliment others. I love seeing the looks on peoples faces when I tell them I like their shirt, makeup, handwriting. Anything really. It's important to note that I never give out false compliments. I feel that it is vital to be truthful and intentional every single time. That gives me some wiggle room for some really weird compliments at times. I'll leave that to your imagination. *Upon thinking about that, it sounds like that could be dirty...it wasn't meant to be, but I'm leaving it in!* ;)
Superficial praises like the previously mentioned ones are usually well received but my favorite compliments to give to people are ones that reflect them as they are as a person. Complimenting someones intelligence, aptitude at their job, consideration, wisdom is what I do most. I want people to know when I'm grateful for what they bring to the table just for being themselves and their accomplishments.
I do such because I feel appreciative when another person says something of that nature to me. I want other people to have the chance to have that same feeling!! I have had several occasions where a honest compliment has completely turned around a bad day for me. You never know the mindset a person is in and what saying something nice could mean to them.
By what means did I make that leap? The contrast of the 15 year old me who loathed giving and getting compliments to the 23 year old me who loves being told nice things and can't help but to share positive opinions I hold of people. I can actually pinpoint the exact people who showed me the importance of kindness. They were two of my favorite teachers I've ever had the pleasure of being their in their classroom. Mrs. Ward-Maguire and Mrs. Bussa. These are two women who manifest what it means to be an outstanding teacher. I can say that honestly without fear of being called a Kiss-ass, seeing as its been 7 years since I've been their student and can't receive retroactive extra credit.
Mrs. WM & Mrs. B were the best at handing out encouragement. These women had the task of working with teenagers who were, for a lack of better words, shitheads. I can say that because I was one of them! A lot of us acted out because of problems at school, troubled home lives, substance abuse and other harms to ourselves. None of us really had the confidence in ourselves to think we were capable of being more than the kids who had to go down the hallway to be in a class of ten instead of thirty. It had the stigma as being the "troubled kids class."
Those stereotypes can kiss my ass. It was the best time and use I ever garnered from high school. I get emotional when I think about what those two did for me all through the power of positive word. From long talks and feeling free to ask questions I trusted these two.
Mrs. B was exemplary at complimenting me every day on something random about my appearance and meaning it. Be it my "artwork jeans" or smile. Mrs. B kick started my brain to believe that I was beautiful and assisted my confidence to walk through life with my head held high. She taught me that when people complimented me, they truly meant it and said it for the purpose of making me happy. I learned that it was okay to accept this and equate it with a nice feeling. That's so astounding to me to look back and see what a difference that has made in my life.
Mrs. B was exemplary at complimenting me every day on something random about my appearance and meaning it. Be it my "artwork jeans" or smile. Mrs. B kick started my brain to believe that I was beautiful and assisted my confidence to walk through life with my head held high. She taught me that when people complimented me, they truly meant it and said it for the purpose of making me happy. I learned that it was okay to accept this and equate it with a nice feeling. That's so astounding to me to look back and see what a difference that has made in my life.
Mrs. WM had a proclivity for praising me for what I did, or in some cases didn't do. I would walk into class and beam when I would see a piece of paper on my desk. Upon further inspection finding it to be a lady bug note saying, "50 days!! Great job! I'm proud of you:)." It isn't a stretch to say Mrs. WM is one of the reasons why I blog and share my writing to this day. I have always had a propensity to write but I didn't think I was any good. Probably the most meaningful compliments to me where the ones she would tell me how she felt about my writing. A specific note on top of an essay I wrote said, "Excellent! You should consider writing for teens!" That encouraged me to share my writing with others and not be afraid to put my real feelings out there. To be brave enough not edit it to something I thought people would like. How freeing!
It's crazy to imagine how different my life may be had I not had the opportunity to know those ladies! Would I be the woman I am today? Or maybe a twisted adult version of that kid I once was. I don't even want to think about that!
I know countless people, things and life events have molded who I am today but this topic has been tugging on my heartstrings for quite a long time. Thanks to things such as my bad accident last year and all these crazy stories you hear about on the news, I feel it's massively important to share with people how they've made positive impacts in my life.
To Mrs WM & Mrs. B,
You both have impacted my life for the better. I carry your lessons and advice with me always and think of you often. You are amazing role models and I am grateful that you share your strengths with the world. So many people have been touched by your humanity and not just the students you've taught, but the people they've met and so on many times over. Kind of like a tree. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for helping me grow my roots. :)
Gayle.
It's crazy to imagine how different my life may be had I not had the opportunity to know those ladies! Would I be the woman I am today? Or maybe a twisted adult version of that kid I once was. I don't even want to think about that!
I know countless people, things and life events have molded who I am today but this topic has been tugging on my heartstrings for quite a long time. Thanks to things such as my bad accident last year and all these crazy stories you hear about on the news, I feel it's massively important to share with people how they've made positive impacts in my life.
To Mrs WM & Mrs. B,
You both have impacted my life for the better. I carry your lessons and advice with me always and think of you often. You are amazing role models and I am grateful that you share your strengths with the world. So many people have been touched by your humanity and not just the students you've taught, but the people they've met and so on many times over. Kind of like a tree. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for helping me grow my roots. :)
Gayle.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
Reflection. Pain. Sadness. Hope. Courage.
Today was an extremely difficult day. I'm trying to wrap my head around the death of a friend. I've had friends pass in tragic and untimely ways before such as accidents and health problems, but that doesn't make it any easier to cope with the fresh devastation of a new loss. I feel like now is not the time to delve into the details of Craig's death. I don't think I'll ever understand why he took his life. Regardless of reason or speculation, he was my friend and I will miss him very much. Craig would cheer me up when I was down, have my back if someone wronged me and made sure I was alright after my accident last year. While we worked together, we bonded over bitching about a couple people who left all the work to us and our love of football. He was a huge Redskins fan. I'm talking a 'Giant-ass-tattoo-on-his-forearm" fan. I'm glad I got to see him often. After the job we had went out of business, he switched to a similar job and frequently would deliver food to the girls and myself at the salon. I'd get the biggest smile when he would walk in and he'd pull me into a bear hug. Every time. I will cherish that.
I'm grateful in this time for the girls at work. I went in today a mere 10 sleepless hours after receiving this news for my shift at work. I feel like it's starting to set in now that he's gone, but as I walked into work..well I don't know..I felt surreal. The kindness of the two people I opened up to when asked what was wrong was a Godsend. My boss kindly sent me home with a big hug and thoughtful smile. Upon getting home and failing to fall asleep, I decided I needed to hold something cuddly. I needed some good juju so I headed to the local Humane Society to hang out with some critters. I spent three hours there walking numerous dogs, playing with little kittens, found the ugliest cat there and took a picture of it, played with guinea pigs and my favorite animal of the day.. a white and black rat about the size of a 20oz bottle of soda. He was awesome. This little unnamed rat sat on my arm for a few seconds before making is way up to my shoulder and cuddled up against my neck where he promptly fell asleep. It was a very calming and adorable gesture. I've never much been a person who wanted a pet with the exception of the guinea pig I had for 7 years as a teenager, but I truly value whatever it is about animals that can heal ones soul. I surely haven't grieved Craig's death by any means yet, but I have certainly had the chance for some animals to show unconditional love in return for a scratch behind their ear and, well, that's a start.
Thank you for taking the time to read this. If you or a loved one is struggling with thoughts of suicide, please call a hotline. Sometimes talking to a stranger is the most freeing thing in the world. That's half the reason why I started blogging. I wanted to get out my feelings without fear of judgement.
Toll-Free / 24 hours a day / 7 days a week
1-800-SUICIDE
1-800-784-2433
1-800-273-TALK
1-800-273-8255
Deaf Hotline
1-800-799-4TTY (4889)
Veteran Crisis Line
1-800-273-8255 & Press 1 or Send a text message to 838255
Many of these lines offer phone lines, texts and online mediums to be available to those in need. As well as multiple languages so everyone can have the same access to help.
Also check out:
http://twloha.com/
To Write Love On Her Arms encourages community, hope, dreams, overcoming fears and music as coping skills for people struggling with depression, drug & alcohol addiction, low self-esteem and suicidal thoughts. As well as for the loved ones of the people suffering. This site is for EVERY PERSON. I've had my own demons to fight and TWLOHA has been a beacon of hope for me. Every struggle I go through, I look down at the 'Love' tattoo I have on my arm as a reminder of what I've survived and the people who helped me get to where I am today.
You are loved.
I'm grateful in this time for the girls at work. I went in today a mere 10 sleepless hours after receiving this news for my shift at work. I feel like it's starting to set in now that he's gone, but as I walked into work..well I don't know..I felt surreal. The kindness of the two people I opened up to when asked what was wrong was a Godsend. My boss kindly sent me home with a big hug and thoughtful smile. Upon getting home and failing to fall asleep, I decided I needed to hold something cuddly. I needed some good juju so I headed to the local Humane Society to hang out with some critters. I spent three hours there walking numerous dogs, playing with little kittens, found the ugliest cat there and took a picture of it, played with guinea pigs and my favorite animal of the day.. a white and black rat about the size of a 20oz bottle of soda. He was awesome. This little unnamed rat sat on my arm for a few seconds before making is way up to my shoulder and cuddled up against my neck where he promptly fell asleep. It was a very calming and adorable gesture. I've never much been a person who wanted a pet with the exception of the guinea pig I had for 7 years as a teenager, but I truly value whatever it is about animals that can heal ones soul. I surely haven't grieved Craig's death by any means yet, but I have certainly had the chance for some animals to show unconditional love in return for a scratch behind their ear and, well, that's a start.
Thank you for taking the time to read this. If you or a loved one is struggling with thoughts of suicide, please call a hotline. Sometimes talking to a stranger is the most freeing thing in the world. That's half the reason why I started blogging. I wanted to get out my feelings without fear of judgement.
National Suicide Hotlines USA
United States of America
Sunday, June 23, 2013
The Struggle of Hope
Hope. What a tricky little word. A friend of mine sent me a text today saying they were running low on hope. Thinking about my own life there are many occurrences where hope has elicited several different thoughts and feelings from me. Hope really is a "four letter word."
When I was a kid, hope was a rampant imagination - hell bent on escaping my tormented reality. Hope was my wish and my answer. I wished for someone to hear my screams. I wished for my teachers to ask me about my bruises. I wished for it all to stop. I sat on the playground hoping for a better future. Hoping to feel like a person rather than an object. I had hope that the bullies at school and at home would get bored. I hoped for it to stop. I had a sliver of hope, just enough to keep me going.
In my late teen years, my hope was diminished. I didn't want to live in a place where an innocent child could grow up to see the terrors I had seen. I had no hope for a way out, thankfully, someone else did. When I was running low on that four letter word, another person borrowed some to me. In fact several came together to do so.
I'll tell you what, I flourished! I did everything in my power to spread hope, love, kindness and humor to any person I met.
Then in an instant it was all gone.I hoped it was all a terrible lie.
I found myself a victim with no voice, no strength and no hope. Well, not the way you would expect. I hoped I would be shown the mercy of the blade pressed across my throat. I hoped I would not have to suffer. Now I just hope to forget.
Now as I'm in my early to mid twenties I have had amazing friendships, a car accident, misguided relationships, as well as truly great ones, deaths of loved ones and a chance for a fresh start. I hope to figure as much of life out as I'm meant to. I hope to learn from past mistakes, betrayals and celebrations.
I don't think people realized how much hope really hurts. It has been known to rip out my entire soul and throw it to the dogs. In order for hope to exist there needs to be something terrible for it to manifest that wishful feeling. In order to experience the fruit of the hope, you need to overcome tragedy.
This sick fact makes me question each person I meet. What makes them happy? Surely it's impossible to have a perfect life with no instances of pain or suffering. It makes me wonder if the happiest people have seen the worst terrors and therefore know the most satisfying feeling of making it out through the other side?
What can I learn from these people?
In turn, what can I do for others through this?
I understand that I broke a ton of writing rules by typing 'Hope' nearly 30 times, but I think it's necessary to get my feelings across.
There is another entirely different feeling that I associate with hope that I originally 'hoped' to write about. I can't seem too, I think it would be more appropriate for me to discuss that another time.
In my late teen years, my hope was diminished. I didn't want to live in a place where an innocent child could grow up to see the terrors I had seen. I had no hope for a way out, thankfully, someone else did. When I was running low on that four letter word, another person borrowed some to me. In fact several came together to do so.
I'll tell you what, I flourished! I did everything in my power to spread hope, love, kindness and humor to any person I met.
Then in an instant it was all gone.I hoped it was all a terrible lie.
I found myself a victim with no voice, no strength and no hope. Well, not the way you would expect. I hoped I would be shown the mercy of the blade pressed across my throat. I hoped I would not have to suffer. Now I just hope to forget.
Now as I'm in my early to mid twenties I have had amazing friendships, a car accident, misguided relationships, as well as truly great ones, deaths of loved ones and a chance for a fresh start. I hope to figure as much of life out as I'm meant to. I hope to learn from past mistakes, betrayals and celebrations.
I don't think people realized how much hope really hurts. It has been known to rip out my entire soul and throw it to the dogs. In order for hope to exist there needs to be something terrible for it to manifest that wishful feeling. In order to experience the fruit of the hope, you need to overcome tragedy.
This sick fact makes me question each person I meet. What makes them happy? Surely it's impossible to have a perfect life with no instances of pain or suffering. It makes me wonder if the happiest people have seen the worst terrors and therefore know the most satisfying feeling of making it out through the other side?
What can I learn from these people?
In turn, what can I do for others through this?
I understand that I broke a ton of writing rules by typing 'Hope' nearly 30 times, but I think it's necessary to get my feelings across.
There is another entirely different feeling that I associate with hope that I originally 'hoped' to write about. I can't seem too, I think it would be more appropriate for me to discuss that another time.
If you take one thing from this today, please let it be this;
Hope is incredibly strong, it can be the glue that holds someone together. If you have good intentions then please spread hope anywhere you can. However if you are unsure of your intent, I beg of you to think twice. For false hope can tear someone apart faster and harder than anything else in this world.
Hope is incredibly strong, it can be the glue that holds someone together. If you have good intentions then please spread hope anywhere you can. However if you are unsure of your intent, I beg of you to think twice. For false hope can tear someone apart faster and harder than anything else in this world.
Monday, June 3, 2013
Solace in Abandonment
I would like to share with you a short poem I wrote on 09/17/2009. I was inspired after finding a pleasant field a few miles outside of the city in which I live. There were innumerable lightning bugs and frogs croaking in the dark. I loved that field at first sight. I still visit it on summer nights when I need inspiration. It's where I re-charge. It's where I find my strength when I am weak. It's the most special place I know to connect with nature. This poem of mine has remained one of my favorites over the years. I posted the original version to my Facebook three months after I first jotted it down on a napkin. What I'm sharing with you now is a revised version. Same meaning, same feeling, just a bit more streamlined. This version represents my writing style and how it has evolved over the last 4 years. I hope you enjoy and please feel free to let me know what you think. I love hearing feedback. With that I give you:
Solace in Abandonment
by Gayle Johnson 09/17/2009 (06/03/2013)
Gentle, living embers dim as they sink from the night sky, illuminating a field of wheat. Wind gusts gently through a young woman's hair. Her eyes shine like jewels, eager to witness what will follow. What will these fireflies aura display next? She cant help but to glory in the comforting warmth while poised directly in the middle of this seemingly magical farmland. She wishes not to retire back to the city, but to revel in this satisfying peace indefinitely. She is home.
Solace in Abandonment
by Gayle Johnson 09/17/2009 (06/03/2013)
Gentle, living embers dim as they sink from the night sky, illuminating a field of wheat. Wind gusts gently through a young woman's hair. Her eyes shine like jewels, eager to witness what will follow. What will these fireflies aura display next? She cant help but to glory in the comforting warmth while poised directly in the middle of this seemingly magical farmland. She wishes not to retire back to the city, but to revel in this satisfying peace indefinitely. She is home.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
First they get you high, then they say whats up to a higher power. what?
I love when I catch contradictions What can I say? I get a kick out of it. The other day I received an email from Bandsintown letting me know about some upcoming events. In this email, there were two events over the summer with the band The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. You know, the band everyone knew for the song "Face Down" and pretty much nothing else since. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed their music and went to see them live in 2009 with Hollywood Undead. I enjoyed myself at the show and probably partied a little too hard. Let me tell you about what I feel is a massive contradiction.
At that 2009 outdoor show during RJA's set, the chubby guitarist was smoking a blunt worthy of Snoop Dogg. Bro was toking up and passing it around some of the people in the front row. I mean, that's not completely unheard of. I've seen this happen countless times at shows. People don't give a fuck. After the show, the guys were happy to allow anyone who was down to party to join them as long as they were a hot chick. What I think is hilarious is what my email said the other day. Two RJA shows in my area in the next few months. The first was a couple nights ago at a local night club. Okay, cool. Nothing unusual there. What caught my attention was the second local date. They will be playing at Lifelight in September. For those of you who might not catch the irony right away, let me catch you up to speed. Lifelight is an annual Christian music festival. I repeat. A Christian music festival. Doesn't quite add up. I understand that people and bands change and evolve, but I have a difficult time seeing a band who behaved so radically in one way, playing a show at an event where the exact opposite is preached. I guess we'll just have to ride it out and see what happens.
At that 2009 outdoor show during RJA's set, the chubby guitarist was smoking a blunt worthy of Snoop Dogg. Bro was toking up and passing it around some of the people in the front row. I mean, that's not completely unheard of. I've seen this happen countless times at shows. People don't give a fuck. After the show, the guys were happy to allow anyone who was down to party to join them as long as they were a hot chick. What I think is hilarious is what my email said the other day. Two RJA shows in my area in the next few months. The first was a couple nights ago at a local night club. Okay, cool. Nothing unusual there. What caught my attention was the second local date. They will be playing at Lifelight in September. For those of you who might not catch the irony right away, let me catch you up to speed. Lifelight is an annual Christian music festival. I repeat. A Christian music festival. Doesn't quite add up. I understand that people and bands change and evolve, but I have a difficult time seeing a band who behaved so radically in one way, playing a show at an event where the exact opposite is preached. I guess we'll just have to ride it out and see what happens.
Sunday, May 5, 2013
Frustration
I've been feeling very conflicted lately. My dad is easily my favorite person in the world. I'm a Daddy's Girl to the T. I've never been able to keep things from him, even if I tried to keep something like a birthday present from him. That changed few years ago. There is something that I've been wanting to talk with him about that no matter how hard I try....I can't. I've thought about just writing everything I'd like to say and have him read it but I can't even get my thoughts written down fluidly. I must have tried a couple hundred times. It makes me so mad that one thing can shake up everything so much. How do I over come this? I want to be able to talk about it and write clearly about it. I want to desperately. I need to get this off my chest and stop lying to my dad. Even though I'm not lying to him about anything, I'm not telling him about anything. That's lying by omission in my book. I don't know. I'm super frustrated. Grrrrrr.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
RANT: Light Sleeper Roommate.
I like my roommate. We can talk about random things and goof around...but I have a huge pet peeve with her. She is the lightest sleeper in the goddamn world!! I can be two floors below her talking on the phone or like tonight, bringing in my fucking groceries 25 minutes after I got off work. I either get passive aggressive texts or her being aggressive in person telling/asking me to "keep it down", "stop doing what I'm doing" or my favorite "turn it down a notch." Is she for real?! I understand that she is sleeping so I actively walk around this old creaky house as lightly as possible & try to keep my tasks as quiet as possible. For example, tonight, I put my groceries away super quickly & left half of the stuff in the bags to deal with tomorrow. I limit all tv and Internet use to the living room two levels down. I go out of my way to please her which is evidently impossible. Now, on the flip side, she has woken me up no less than 8 times in the past 7 days. She is aware of my sleep schedule. Guess what I do when she wakes me up?! Absolutely nothing!! Wait, sorry, that's a lie... I roll the fuck over and go back to sleep!!! I haven't once mentioned it to her or my other two roommates because its not a big fucking deal. She needs to grow up and realize that the world doesn't revolve around her every need & that she needs to learn how to pick her battles. THAT or she needs to buy a bottle of fucking sleeping pills.
Good Night & Good Luck
I'm afraid to go back to sleep. I'm intimidated in a way nearly indescribable. I just was startled awake by a dream so realistic, I was sure it was corporeal. You know those dreams, the ones that terrorize your otherwise tranquil night, waking you into a scary state of uncertainty as to what is real or imagined. Visions capable of causing you to wake up in a cold sweat, attempting to catch your breath. I sit here under the dull light of my lamp while staring at my keyboard. I feel the need to both write down the anguish of this disturbing nightmare & to also cast it into a deep chasm of my mind to forget its creation ever transpired.
How is it our subconsciousness can create fantasy worlds capable of haunting us? Is it to keep our bodies & minds conditioned to handle trauma and ill-fortune? Is it a random event or do the dream dictionaries have a degree of merit? Why is it dreams can be so vivid one day, then you can go extended periods of time without remembering a single one? My dreams have gotten increasingly stronger and more present in the last few years after several traumatic events have taken place in my life. Is it safe to assume there is a link there? I would imagine so considering those events have been the content of many of my night tremors.
I am internally confused, intrigued and unsettled by the idea of tiny movies playing out in my mind every single night without my control. It's an odd and beautiful thing.
Goodnight,
Gayle
How is it our subconsciousness can create fantasy worlds capable of haunting us? Is it to keep our bodies & minds conditioned to handle trauma and ill-fortune? Is it a random event or do the dream dictionaries have a degree of merit? Why is it dreams can be so vivid one day, then you can go extended periods of time without remembering a single one? My dreams have gotten increasingly stronger and more present in the last few years after several traumatic events have taken place in my life. Is it safe to assume there is a link there? I would imagine so considering those events have been the content of many of my night tremors.
I am internally confused, intrigued and unsettled by the idea of tiny movies playing out in my mind every single night without my control. It's an odd and beautiful thing.
Goodnight,
Gayle
Friday, April 19, 2013
Despite my downfalls, I remain hopeful.
I thought often after getting struck by that SUV last year that I wished I didn't make it. But as I got better and was able to leave the house, and see friends, it got easier to handle. I rarely think that way anymore. My pain will be with me for a very long time. Maybe lifelong, but I pray I will have the grace to handle it and an open heart to help others from it. Thanks to the people who have supported me over the past 13 months or so. I know I've made great strides, but I still could really use your help and encouragement. It's what helps me through the painful days. In the last week alone I have had 9 back spasms, lasting between 5 and 40 minutes each, almost consistent crippling pain in my leg from the neuropathy & suffered another concussion last weekend. It's difficult but I know I wasn't given more than I can handle. What I've learned is life is short & pain is real so it's massively important to love, help others & live a life you can be proud of.
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Goodbye Laboratory 108, Hello Awesomesauce!
So a lot has changed in the last few weeks! I've started working a little bit again, despite still having major pain and muscle spasms. It's a fun job that allows me to organize and take care of people. Two of my favorite things! Plus I get to look at a lot of eye candy. ;) However, that's not what I opened this browser to talk about.
I recently moved out of my first apartment known as Laboratory 108. I started off with a really shitty roommate. She was the main bitch and never lifted a finger. Hence her extremely profane nickname, McCuntslut. I'm proud of that one! For the first several months, even though I was severely injured and limited from my accident, I was the only one who would take out trash, wash dishes or clean the shared living spaces. Luckily, I have great friends who were willing to help so I wouldn't hurt worse. McCuntslut would also play her music loudly, give me death stares and prance around like she owned the place. We went in 50/50, bitch can suck it. Between all of the drama and bullshit, I temporarily moved back in with my mom for a couple months, but still paid rent. F that. I was tired of her running the place and using my shit. That's when shit really hit the fan. I moved back in and made myself present! I stayed in the living room 24/7 which was fine by me. My back is better when I sleep on my couch anyways. I cooked all the time, I had guests over as much as possible. I lived how I would if I lived alone. Of course she retaliated, but the day she did, my mom happened to come over to pick me up for a doctors appointment for an EMG. (HOLY FUCKING PAINFUL!) Anyways, McCuntslut decided to turn her music on as LOUD as possible at 7:30am. My mom showed up at 9:45am and could hear it from the parking lot. Our apartment was on the back of the building, on the opposite from where she parked & all our windows were closed. It was that loud. Needless to say, my mom understood mine, and my neighbors frustration. She came in and walked up to McCuntslut (who had fucking headphones on!! What?!), pulled off her giant headphones and told her damn politely to turn it down & respect the neighbors. She responded that it was her apartment, not my moms and that she was getting back at me for waking her up at 12:30am that morning by being loud.....which is funny seeing as I was with the guy I had kind of been seeing all night because I was nervous about my looming EMG. I didn't get home until 5 or 5:30am. So bitch be crazy. Of course, I couldn't keep my mouth shut because I'm a typical girl. So I started defending myself and it turned into a giant screaming match. I'm so grateful my mom was there to referee. It got UGLY. Damn was I happy we fought though! She agreed to move the fuck out!!!! The next couple days as she moved her stuff out was a little awkward but I managed. Hell, she was leaving!
It was perfect timing too because my best friends lease expired the next week. So, BOOM! Insta-roommate. Having Justin move in was amazing. A lot of my stress was lifted by not needing to walk on eggshells and having help around the house. We joked, watched Netflix and had friends over. We got drunk at the bar watching football and came home to make pasta and cheese bread on Thanksgiving. He gave me Crown and two Crown glasses for Christmas. If I had a back spasm, he'd bring me my ice pack. It was great living there with a sane person. A real turn around experience!
That chapter is now closed. My cozy little two bedroom apartment with annoying upstairs neighbors has drawn to an end. Goodbye, Lab 108! Now I'm living in a house with 3 other people. I've yet to name this house but our WiFi name is Awesomesauce, so for now, "Hello, Awesomesauce."
Awesomesauce is off to a fun start. Our initials spell out 'Stag' so I'm sure that will be incorporated into the name. Well, because this is South Dakota, we went from shorts and dress weather on Sunday, and a giant ice storm on Tuesday. Wednesday was for surveying the hundreds of trees down across the city, blocking roads and knocking out power for well over 20,000 residents. Now today is Thursday and we woke up to well over 6 inches of snow, with at least another 4 expected. At my house, there are trees on my roof, and a tree fell on my car. I'm not too pissed, I drive a piece of shit. as long as it runs and the windows don't bust, I'll be fine lol. I am a little upset that it cracked my side mirror though. I drove it yesterday and boy was that strange. I should probably stop writing, I have a fuck ton of snow to help shovel. Keep it classy guys! I'll tell more stories later. :)
*Oh and if I ever have stupid spelling or grammar errors, please know that I write in a stream of consciousness and rarely re-read what I write before I post it.
I recently moved out of my first apartment known as Laboratory 108. I started off with a really shitty roommate. She was the main bitch and never lifted a finger. Hence her extremely profane nickname, McCuntslut. I'm proud of that one! For the first several months, even though I was severely injured and limited from my accident, I was the only one who would take out trash, wash dishes or clean the shared living spaces. Luckily, I have great friends who were willing to help so I wouldn't hurt worse. McCuntslut would also play her music loudly, give me death stares and prance around like she owned the place. We went in 50/50, bitch can suck it. Between all of the drama and bullshit, I temporarily moved back in with my mom for a couple months, but still paid rent. F that. I was tired of her running the place and using my shit. That's when shit really hit the fan. I moved back in and made myself present! I stayed in the living room 24/7 which was fine by me. My back is better when I sleep on my couch anyways. I cooked all the time, I had guests over as much as possible. I lived how I would if I lived alone. Of course she retaliated, but the day she did, my mom happened to come over to pick me up for a doctors appointment for an EMG. (HOLY FUCKING PAINFUL!) Anyways, McCuntslut decided to turn her music on as LOUD as possible at 7:30am. My mom showed up at 9:45am and could hear it from the parking lot. Our apartment was on the back of the building, on the opposite from where she parked & all our windows were closed. It was that loud. Needless to say, my mom understood mine, and my neighbors frustration. She came in and walked up to McCuntslut (who had fucking headphones on!! What?!), pulled off her giant headphones and told her damn politely to turn it down & respect the neighbors. She responded that it was her apartment, not my moms and that she was getting back at me for waking her up at 12:30am that morning by being loud.....which is funny seeing as I was with the guy I had kind of been seeing all night because I was nervous about my looming EMG. I didn't get home until 5 or 5:30am. So bitch be crazy. Of course, I couldn't keep my mouth shut because I'm a typical girl. So I started defending myself and it turned into a giant screaming match. I'm so grateful my mom was there to referee. It got UGLY. Damn was I happy we fought though! She agreed to move the fuck out!!!! The next couple days as she moved her stuff out was a little awkward but I managed. Hell, she was leaving!
It was perfect timing too because my best friends lease expired the next week. So, BOOM! Insta-roommate. Having Justin move in was amazing. A lot of my stress was lifted by not needing to walk on eggshells and having help around the house. We joked, watched Netflix and had friends over. We got drunk at the bar watching football and came home to make pasta and cheese bread on Thanksgiving. He gave me Crown and two Crown glasses for Christmas. If I had a back spasm, he'd bring me my ice pack. It was great living there with a sane person. A real turn around experience!
That chapter is now closed. My cozy little two bedroom apartment with annoying upstairs neighbors has drawn to an end. Goodbye, Lab 108! Now I'm living in a house with 3 other people. I've yet to name this house but our WiFi name is Awesomesauce, so for now, "Hello, Awesomesauce."
Awesomesauce is off to a fun start. Our initials spell out 'Stag' so I'm sure that will be incorporated into the name. Well, because this is South Dakota, we went from shorts and dress weather on Sunday, and a giant ice storm on Tuesday. Wednesday was for surveying the hundreds of trees down across the city, blocking roads and knocking out power for well over 20,000 residents. Now today is Thursday and we woke up to well over 6 inches of snow, with at least another 4 expected. At my house, there are trees on my roof, and a tree fell on my car. I'm not too pissed, I drive a piece of shit. as long as it runs and the windows don't bust, I'll be fine lol. I am a little upset that it cracked my side mirror though. I drove it yesterday and boy was that strange. I should probably stop writing, I have a fuck ton of snow to help shovel. Keep it classy guys! I'll tell more stories later. :)
*Oh and if I ever have stupid spelling or grammar errors, please know that I write in a stream of consciousness and rarely re-read what I write before I post it.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
It's been a tough 365
Exactly one year ago today I was a sober pedestrian struck by a drunk driver and left in the road to fend for myself. I had physical injuries that still render me useless on days due to mind numbing neuropathy. I can count the days in which I haven't had nightmares replaying the accident on my fingers and toes over the last 365 days. Many times in public, I act as though nothing is wrong. Partly for you not to worry & partly because I'm so sick of it that I use your distraction to get me out of my mindset and have a good time. I'm not going to let this define me negatively. It was a HUGE event that will affect me for a lifetime, but I'm determined to make it a positive one. I've learned strength, courage, perseverance, how to push past my limits and I've learned that things happen to make your dreams change & you have to accept it and modify them accordingly. There are still so many things I can't do yet but I have hope that over the years that'll change. I was going to stay in all day in my bubble of an apartment. That's crazy!! That would be letting this day win! No way. I'm going to win. So I decided to attempt one of my all time favorite activities today with a wonderful friend. I promised myself I'd celebrate my improvements and miracle of life today, but not push myself too hard. Please be safe tonight & do not take risks behind the wheel!! With that being said, I'm running late to get to the ice rink;)
**Update**
I only made it about 15 or 20 minutes skating and am in pain. However I expected that, and made sure not to push myself. I'm glad I went!!
**Update**
I only made it about 15 or 20 minutes skating and am in pain. However I expected that, and made sure not to push myself. I'm glad I went!!
Saturday, March 16, 2013
St. Patty's Day can suck a dick.
I hate that none of my friends are accepting that I don't want to go drinking tonight for St. Patty's. Last year on St. Patty's I was sober and was run over by a drunk driver. So, no thanks, not going out for shit tonight. No drinking, no DDing. Just sucks that my friends who know all about the struggle and physical & emotional pain I've gone through, can't understand that I'm serious about staying in. Shit!
Friday, March 15, 2013
The Painter
There once was a painter. Noble, caring, inquisitive and a bit eccentric. The painter was a gentle man. He stood statuesque whilst only his eyes moved as he observed others interactions. Being an introverted man, he desperately wanted to understand his peers and how they communicated with one another. The painter towered over his companions, lanky and still. Not dissimilar to a Poplar tree used to line a drive-in movie theater. Standing straight and proud while enjoying a show. But this isn't a story about that. It's a story of two people finding themselves.
This painter had a muse who he revered. He would hastily show her all of his works and valued her opinions. Critiques and praises alike. However, things were not as they seemed. The muse, however enamored with her painter, started to wander. She wanted to find a new painter who's art spoke truth to her eyes. She was weak from dealing with the painters past for she wasn't the first nor strongest muse. She was the one to heal the painters wicked heart. To bridge the painter from the storm he was in and send him along a new path. A long, winding foot trail to find the muse in his own heart. So she left.
In the initial time the two were separated, the painter created a most beautiful tapestry for his lost muse. It shone with oranges and yellows, her favorite colors because they reminded her of sunshine and true happiness. The painter and muse wouldn't cross paths for another year. The painter presented her with this work of art in a medium other than his own. It was his way of processing the affliction he felt when he lost her. At that point in time, the painter was just finding a small clearing in his trail. He was finding happiness in himself.
Over the next few years, the two still had a mutual admiration for each other and enjoyed speaking of the interests in their hearts, just less often. The atmosphere was found to be pleasant when the two spoke. You could sense the closeness they once shared.
The painter continued his trek down his wooded avenue, finding bigger and better clearings full of bright light perfect for him to set up his easel and start on a new work of art. With time, he felt less of a need to seek his adrift muses advice. The painter had truly found himself. The muse couldn't have been happier. That's exactly what she wanted for him. Self approval and confidence in his work. What an amazing journey for this muse to witness!
Towards the end of their story together, the muse sent a congratulatory post to the painter. She had heard word that he had found the perfect glade and better yet, this young, skilled & confident painter had found a youthful muse. One who saw truth in his art. The old muse was sad to think that her time helping the painter would now be over. She held on tight to the wonderful memories giving them one last goodbye & released them to the world. This new muse was perfect for the painter and to be honest, the old muse enjoyed being able to float around inspiring artists wherever she may go. Looks like they all lived happily ever after.
-Gayle
This painter had a muse who he revered. He would hastily show her all of his works and valued her opinions. Critiques and praises alike. However, things were not as they seemed. The muse, however enamored with her painter, started to wander. She wanted to find a new painter who's art spoke truth to her eyes. She was weak from dealing with the painters past for she wasn't the first nor strongest muse. She was the one to heal the painters wicked heart. To bridge the painter from the storm he was in and send him along a new path. A long, winding foot trail to find the muse in his own heart. So she left.
In the initial time the two were separated, the painter created a most beautiful tapestry for his lost muse. It shone with oranges and yellows, her favorite colors because they reminded her of sunshine and true happiness. The painter and muse wouldn't cross paths for another year. The painter presented her with this work of art in a medium other than his own. It was his way of processing the affliction he felt when he lost her. At that point in time, the painter was just finding a small clearing in his trail. He was finding happiness in himself.
Over the next few years, the two still had a mutual admiration for each other and enjoyed speaking of the interests in their hearts, just less often. The atmosphere was found to be pleasant when the two spoke. You could sense the closeness they once shared.
The painter continued his trek down his wooded avenue, finding bigger and better clearings full of bright light perfect for him to set up his easel and start on a new work of art. With time, he felt less of a need to seek his adrift muses advice. The painter had truly found himself. The muse couldn't have been happier. That's exactly what she wanted for him. Self approval and confidence in his work. What an amazing journey for this muse to witness!
Towards the end of their story together, the muse sent a congratulatory post to the painter. She had heard word that he had found the perfect glade and better yet, this young, skilled & confident painter had found a youthful muse. One who saw truth in his art. The old muse was sad to think that her time helping the painter would now be over. She held on tight to the wonderful memories giving them one last goodbye & released them to the world. This new muse was perfect for the painter and to be honest, the old muse enjoyed being able to float around inspiring artists wherever she may go. Looks like they all lived happily ever after.
-Gayle
Thursday, March 14, 2013
3.14 - realizations & thanks to the men of my past.
Ah, Pi Day. One of my favorite days of the year along with May 4th, Halloween and my birthday. I consider myself somewhat of a nerd or geek. I get big into certain science fiction shows & movies, and I've always considered science and math in general my go to areas of interest. However, Pi Day is kind of a bummer for me now. It was a special day in the last actual relationship I was in, not fling or whatever. Today would've been our anniversary. "J" is a sweet guy. He loves a terrible football team, he's into hockey and baseball, we met at a Super Bowl party. We connected right away. But in very different ways. I knew he liked me, I really cared about him, but more like a sports buddy. I tend to be friends with far more guys, either science nerds or sports guys. Due to this, I have a difficult time finding interest in the men if all we have in common is sports. Don't get me wrong! I love a cute guy who can talk & watch sports with me...but if that's all we talk about, I cant do it. I need someone that I can experience new things with, talk music, cook with, laze around in sweatpants all day and still feel beautiful. I certainly tried with "J" but I saw him as my sport and beer buddy and he was making plans 1+ years in the future within 2 months of us meeting. We didn't match up. We had completely different views. He wanted a family and and a farm. I want to live in the city and don't want kids. I had break up with him. I had to sit him down, look him in his big, bright eyes and tell him that I couldn't do it anymore. I broke his heart. He was shocked, hurt and tried to get me to reconsider.
Since we started dating on Pi Day, I have been thinking a lot about that and other relationships I've seemed to have mucked up over the years. Boy, do I have shit luck lol.
In this time I've taken today, I think I've figured part of the reason none of these things seem to last for me. Frequently, I care too much. I seem to like someone and put them & their needs first. One drunk call and I'm there to pick them up. They don't feel like driving across town, no problem. I might be on empty, but I'll make it. Not only that, but I've realized that I'm usually surprised that "that kind of guy" would be interested in me. I get embarrassed to look them in the eyes. I felt "lucky" that an attractive man would go for me. Boy is that some crazy shit or what?! I lacked confidence in all of those relationships. No wonder that none of those worked.
Those handful of guys need to be thanked. Thank you for retroactively showing me that I need to treat myself with more respect. Thanks for helping me realize I'm a beautiful, smart, caring young lady who deserves to be confident and happy. To the asshole who kicked my car, thanks for helping me spot anger issues in guys much easier. To the engineer, thanks for showing me how to be open and honest with my feelings. To the bass player, thanks for showing me how to be confident in my own skin. To the carpenter, thank you for helping me smile again. To "J" thanks for showing me what it meant to be loved.
-Gayle
Since we started dating on Pi Day, I have been thinking a lot about that and other relationships I've seemed to have mucked up over the years. Boy, do I have shit luck lol.
In this time I've taken today, I think I've figured part of the reason none of these things seem to last for me. Frequently, I care too much. I seem to like someone and put them & their needs first. One drunk call and I'm there to pick them up. They don't feel like driving across town, no problem. I might be on empty, but I'll make it. Not only that, but I've realized that I'm usually surprised that "that kind of guy" would be interested in me. I get embarrassed to look them in the eyes. I felt "lucky" that an attractive man would go for me. Boy is that some crazy shit or what?! I lacked confidence in all of those relationships. No wonder that none of those worked.
Those handful of guys need to be thanked. Thank you for retroactively showing me that I need to treat myself with more respect. Thanks for helping me realize I'm a beautiful, smart, caring young lady who deserves to be confident and happy. To the asshole who kicked my car, thanks for helping me spot anger issues in guys much easier. To the engineer, thanks for showing me how to be open and honest with my feelings. To the bass player, thanks for showing me how to be confident in my own skin. To the carpenter, thank you for helping me smile again. To "J" thanks for showing me what it meant to be loved.
-Gayle
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Mrs. 207
I have had it up to HERE with my neighbors. They are ridiculous. In the past, they have parked in my parking spot, which I honestly don't care about. A parking spot is a parking spot, but let me explain a story of why that has been known to upset me. Take my upstairs neighbors in 207..their spot is right next to mine. 207 contains a married couple and two young children. The husband LOVES to park in my spot, so naturally, I park in his open spot. Well After receiving several notes in very poor English on my windshield, about 6 weeks ago the wife buzzed my apartment for ten minutes and then came and rang my doorbell and knocked on my door for another ten. Did I mention that was at 3:45AM?! I was hoping she would give up and leave, when it became apparent that she wouldn't, I answered my door. She yelled at me that she had to park in a visitor parking spot(closer to the door than her spot) because I was in hers and insisted that I move my car to the street at that moment. I asked her to stop shouting and told her if she went upstairs and woke her husband and got him to move his pile of shit out of my spot, I'd gladly move if that meant she would get off my ass. She refused and said that he deserved my parking space, to which I told her she could fuck off and closed my door. She promptly began banging on my door and shouting. I had no choice but to open it back up and face her. I threatened calling the cops on her for harassment and told her if it came to that, I'd ask them to inquire about the status of her visa. That shut her up. It's not everyday I can say I got into a verbal scuffle with a pregnant lady in my hallway at 4 in the morning & won.
Well, I thought I heard the last of her until a couple days ago. See, I'm a night owl by heart. So naturally, I cook around 11PM and take my nightly shower around 3 or 4 AM. Well, Mrs. 207 recently had her child and had no issue whatsoever to parade down to my apartment a few nights ago at 5AM to complain that my shower had woken up her infant. She informed me that she would tell management about my late night habits if it continued..as if management has ANY say in when people are awake/sleeping/working etc. I laughed at her and shut my door in her face as I have become so accustomed to over my time in this apartment. However dumb that request/demand may be, I thought about it and decided I could try altering my schedule. I imagine it can't be easy having a brand new baby in the house.
Well, let me tell you something! I just took a shower at 11:30AM, thinking I was being considerate, right? Not the case. Not only was all the hot water in the complex gone, but Mrs. 207 just strutted her fat little ass over here to complain. AGAIN!! Fucking bitch. Recap, I exited the polar waters of Antarctica only to have an Illegal-Alien-Parking-Space-Nazi-Overly-Black-Cherry-Scented-New-Mother-Middle-Aged-Non-English-Speaking-Door-Banging-Asshole-Of-A-Neighbor complaining about me taking a shower in the middle of the fucking day because it "woke up her baby." No! You having your TV on loud enough that I could hear it from the downstairs hallway is what woke up your baby. Get your shit together!
I only have 20 days left in this apartment before my lease is up and I plan on dedicating ALL of them to Mrs. 207. What's the worst that can happen? Get a two week eviction notice?? Ha! I will park in her spot everyday for the next 3 weeks. I will take showers between 2 and 5 AM every day. I will ring her doorbell whenever the fuck I want to. I will stop tip-toeing around to suit her needs. She is an inconsiderate asshole and none of our other neighbors have ever had a problem with me. Just her. Hell my next door neighbor brought me dinner on Christmas, my neighbor directly above me helped me move in, 106 talks to me for 20 plus minutes at a time outside with her dog, 104 tried to set me up with her nephew, 203 helped me fix my car. My neighbors fucking love me. 207 can suck it.
And that has been a rant brought to you by Gayle :)
Until next time, stay awesome.
Well, I thought I heard the last of her until a couple days ago. See, I'm a night owl by heart. So naturally, I cook around 11PM and take my nightly shower around 3 or 4 AM. Well, Mrs. 207 recently had her child and had no issue whatsoever to parade down to my apartment a few nights ago at 5AM to complain that my shower had woken up her infant. She informed me that she would tell management about my late night habits if it continued..as if management has ANY say in when people are awake/sleeping/working etc. I laughed at her and shut my door in her face as I have become so accustomed to over my time in this apartment. However dumb that request/demand may be, I thought about it and decided I could try altering my schedule. I imagine it can't be easy having a brand new baby in the house.
Well, let me tell you something! I just took a shower at 11:30AM, thinking I was being considerate, right? Not the case. Not only was all the hot water in the complex gone, but Mrs. 207 just strutted her fat little ass over here to complain. AGAIN!! Fucking bitch. Recap, I exited the polar waters of Antarctica only to have an Illegal-Alien-Parking-Space-Nazi-Overly-Black-Cherry-Scented-New-Mother-Middle-Aged-Non-English-Speaking-Door-Banging-Asshole-Of-A-Neighbor complaining about me taking a shower in the middle of the fucking day because it "woke up her baby." No! You having your TV on loud enough that I could hear it from the downstairs hallway is what woke up your baby. Get your shit together!
I only have 20 days left in this apartment before my lease is up and I plan on dedicating ALL of them to Mrs. 207. What's the worst that can happen? Get a two week eviction notice?? Ha! I will park in her spot everyday for the next 3 weeks. I will take showers between 2 and 5 AM every day. I will ring her doorbell whenever the fuck I want to. I will stop tip-toeing around to suit her needs. She is an inconsiderate asshole and none of our other neighbors have ever had a problem with me. Just her. Hell my next door neighbor brought me dinner on Christmas, my neighbor directly above me helped me move in, 106 talks to me for 20 plus minutes at a time outside with her dog, 104 tried to set me up with her nephew, 203 helped me fix my car. My neighbors fucking love me. 207 can suck it.
And that has been a rant brought to you by Gayle :)
Until next time, stay awesome.
Friday, March 8, 2013
Chipper moods make for awesome days
I have to say that today has been a fantastic day so far! I woke up at the ass crack of dawn, around 630, which for me is a miracle. I've stayed quite busy as well. Last night at around 1am, my buddy got into town from the Detroit area, so I was happy to let him crash on my couch. It was nice catching up for a little bit this morning but we had to cut it short so I could make it to a doctor appointment. Traffic there was wonderful, I got a close parking spot, only had to wait two or three minutes to get called back and my doc was in right as my nurse left! Out of the twenty minutes I was there, my doc was in listening and speaking with me for 15 of them. Plus, because I'm broke as shit, my doc gave me a 4 month supply of most of my meds. Geez, he fucking rocks!! Not to mention, he has a magnificent curly petite handlebar mustache. After being treated so well by this doctor and his staff every time I've been in...I can't imagine going anywhere else.
After my appointment my day continued to be swell. I ran to the bank and wasn't horrified when I saw my balance and as always, I shocked the teller when she saw how meticulous I kept my checkbook register. That always gives me a good chuckle. Since the weather is so damn beautiful out(A nice sunny 34 degrees), I decided to take the long way to the pharmacy. As I was driving along, I saw my tattoo artist driving and waved like a mad man at him. That man is such an amazing guy and I love the crap out of him and his wife. Their son was my first and main tattoo artist before he passed unexpectedly last spring. I miss Zak so very much. I hold that whole family so close to my heart. We have all been through a lot together. They are my family. I love them so.
At this point, as if I wasn't hyper enough, I decided to allow myself to be side tracked and stop at a Starbucks. I had a gift card burning a hole in my wallet and was ready to use it. Everybody in line for their coffee was the stereotypical cranky 'I need my coffee NOW, or else.' Then here I was hyper and friendly, they probably thought I was getting my third double shot of the day or something. I'm pretty sure one of the gals wanted to rip off my head, but I wasn't about to let that determine my mood. Knowing that I had to swing by the Walgreens, I picked up a treat for my pharmacist from Starbucks as well. (Can you tell that I have to go in all the freaking time?!)
When I got to Walgreens though is when I hit a little wall. Pun not intended, but I'm keeping it anyways. See, there is a tech there that I can't stand when she has to help me. I'm sure she's a nice girl, but she has zero customer service skills. I can never get a "Hello, how are you." or anything of the like out of her. On top of that, she has the skill set of someone on their first day and she's been their for years. I expect the pharmacists and pharmacy techs to be knowledgeable in what they do. That isn't much to ask in my opinion. The thing I needed to pick up was a small pre-packaged jar of burn cream because I was a dumbass and accidentally touched a heat lamp when I picked up a turtle a couple days ago. ALL that was needed to be done was grab it off the shelf and put a sticker with my name on it. Simple right? Nope. She asked if I would be waiting, I replied yes and was then told that it would be 15 minutes. It ended up being 25+ minutes!! Mind you, I'd understand if they were busy. But while I waited, I was legitimately the ONLY customer in the entire damn store and there were no cars in the Rx drive through. Further more, there were not one, but three people working in the pharmacy standing in a circle talking about the exciting vacation that one of them has planned to Florida next week. Are you kidding me?! I'm a patient and understanding person, but that is just ridiculous.
Anyway, enough of that. My day is still going well. I made a Philly cheesesteak for lunch and now I think I'm going to relax and watch The IT Crowd. I have to admit, I've adored Richard Ayoade and Chris O'Dowd for 6 or 7 years now. Do yourself a favor and watch this, or at least minutes 56-58. http://youtu.be/nTMCy6wIvlk?t=55m59s It's from a show called Big Fat Quiz of the Noughties(00's) It is wonderful.
Anyway, I hope you have an awesome day whenever you read this!
-Gayle
Monday, February 18, 2013
Inner ramblings of a helpless chickadee
It's so easy to get caught up in the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Believe me, I know it well. Last year I was in the beginning stages of recovering from a terrible accident, not fully knowing the extent of my injuries for several months. As soon as I started feeling a little better, I JUMPED into the busy life I loved so much. I hung out with friends, dressed up like a nerd for the Renaissance, ate delicious ribs and drank over priced beer at Ribfest. I enjoyed myself. I also worked three jobs. Yes 3!! Cashiering: Lots of customer service. All day devoted to making impossible people happy, and damn was I good at it! Retail Clothing: hated it! I hated the ridiculous sales goals and trying to find where all those dang clothes went back on the shelf. Lots of walking around with my new found and endearing limp. I did have one job that I had zero complaints attached to clocking in, working at the baseball stadium. Sure I mostly tore tickets, but I had so much fun. I utterly enjoyed being outside at the stadium, listening to my home team play baseball. I got to wear shorts, high five kids, catch foul balls, get hugs from the mascot and have a blast. And I got paid for that?! Yes please. Bonus: after gates were done taking tickets, usually in the 4th inning, I would quick change out of my work shirt in my car, go back into the stadium, order a beer or two and watch the game. Perfect summer days basking in the sun :)
I miss that crazy busy lifestyle. At the present time, my previous injuries leave me stuck at home watching gross amounts of Netflix. I have unbelievable pain and can't ease it. I feel helpless when I can't physically move for hours at a time. My leg cramps up and refuses to function. When I do go out to a hockey game or a friends birthday party, I know it's only a matter of time before I grimace in pain. I do my best to hide it and not bring it up when I'm with friends. I don't want my injuries to define who I am or what I'm capable of doing. I'm sick and tired of it. I am frustrated that I have had to alter my ambitions and goals in life because another persons mistake. It's something that I'm still trying to come to terms with.
How do I take back my life? How do I push past my limitations? How do I accurately convey to people what I'm going through?
In the meantime, I'm trying to learn to relax, to enjoy free time. We'll see how that works out.
I don't know...at the beginning of this I had an insane spark to write. I knew exactly what I wanted to say and it was uplifting and fun. Sure enough, I got on a tangent and forgot everything ha.
I stepped away from this for a few minutes and picked up one of my coffee table books and threw on Pandora. The book I picked up is one of my favorites. 'A Lifetime of Secrets.' It's one of the Post Secret collections. I must admit, I was strangely compelled to Post Secret while I was in high school. I was odd, goofy, shy and bullied for working in the cafeteria. I felt empowered by all these people sending in their deepest secrets for all to see. The anonymity of it has the capability for any one of those secrets to be the readers own demons. Looking through it now, I see postcards that applied to me in the past, confessions that are mine currently and future confidences. It's amazing.
One of the postcards that sticks out for me shows a family in their front yard posing for a silly picture. The text covers their faces and says, "I rarely tell my amazing family that I love them because I'm afraid of showing WEAKNESS." That hits home for me. As a child, we had lots of hard times and struggles. I was raised to be strong in the face of adversity. To never show weakness or ask for help. Due to that upbringing, I find it very difficult to express any of my feelings in a healthy way.
I also have a tendency to push away good, honest people and gravitate to jerks who just waste my time. This applies to friends as well as romantic relationships. Why is it I haven't been able to switch that thinking around? My guess is I feel like every person is a going to do something to hurt me, might as well go for the folks that I can see it coming with. Be able to prepare for disappointment rather than waiting for the ticking time bomb that the "good guys" have waiting.
Better yet, I know my past and the disappointments I hold. I would hate to hurt a good guy and turn him into a bitter asshole. I did that once before, unintentionally, and it broke my heart. It's easier to fall for someone bad for me when I'd be bad for the good one.
I have no clue if this stream of consciousness is making any sense or not, but screw it. I don't feel like re-reading this. I'm just going to post and let it be. No sense editing who I am. This isn't your blog. It's mine. I just wish I could focus! I hope you are having a wonderful day and here's hoping my next post will make more sense and not take another 6 months to happen!
I miss that crazy busy lifestyle. At the present time, my previous injuries leave me stuck at home watching gross amounts of Netflix. I have unbelievable pain and can't ease it. I feel helpless when I can't physically move for hours at a time. My leg cramps up and refuses to function. When I do go out to a hockey game or a friends birthday party, I know it's only a matter of time before I grimace in pain. I do my best to hide it and not bring it up when I'm with friends. I don't want my injuries to define who I am or what I'm capable of doing. I'm sick and tired of it. I am frustrated that I have had to alter my ambitions and goals in life because another persons mistake. It's something that I'm still trying to come to terms with.
How do I take back my life? How do I push past my limitations? How do I accurately convey to people what I'm going through?
In the meantime, I'm trying to learn to relax, to enjoy free time. We'll see how that works out.
I don't know...at the beginning of this I had an insane spark to write. I knew exactly what I wanted to say and it was uplifting and fun. Sure enough, I got on a tangent and forgot everything ha.
I stepped away from this for a few minutes and picked up one of my coffee table books and threw on Pandora. The book I picked up is one of my favorites. 'A Lifetime of Secrets.' It's one of the Post Secret collections. I must admit, I was strangely compelled to Post Secret while I was in high school. I was odd, goofy, shy and bullied for working in the cafeteria. I felt empowered by all these people sending in their deepest secrets for all to see. The anonymity of it has the capability for any one of those secrets to be the readers own demons. Looking through it now, I see postcards that applied to me in the past, confessions that are mine currently and future confidences. It's amazing.
One of the postcards that sticks out for me shows a family in their front yard posing for a silly picture. The text covers their faces and says, "I rarely tell my amazing family that I love them because I'm afraid of showing WEAKNESS." That hits home for me. As a child, we had lots of hard times and struggles. I was raised to be strong in the face of adversity. To never show weakness or ask for help. Due to that upbringing, I find it very difficult to express any of my feelings in a healthy way.
I also have a tendency to push away good, honest people and gravitate to jerks who just waste my time. This applies to friends as well as romantic relationships. Why is it I haven't been able to switch that thinking around? My guess is I feel like every person is a going to do something to hurt me, might as well go for the folks that I can see it coming with. Be able to prepare for disappointment rather than waiting for the ticking time bomb that the "good guys" have waiting.
Better yet, I know my past and the disappointments I hold. I would hate to hurt a good guy and turn him into a bitter asshole. I did that once before, unintentionally, and it broke my heart. It's easier to fall for someone bad for me when I'd be bad for the good one.
I have no clue if this stream of consciousness is making any sense or not, but screw it. I don't feel like re-reading this. I'm just going to post and let it be. No sense editing who I am. This isn't your blog. It's mine. I just wish I could focus! I hope you are having a wonderful day and here's hoping my next post will make more sense and not take another 6 months to happen!
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