Tuesday, May 5, 2015

I'm over it

I'm so over this bullshit. 
5 steroid infusions. 3 different blood tests. 9 total blown vains. 14 bruises. 3 MRIs. 1 EEG. 1 spinal tap. 

So far the diagnose is M.S. I have a vitamin D, vitamin B12, and a potassium deficiency. And new news as of today, spinal stenosis. 

Officially. I'm falling apart. My world is falling apart. I'm weak and sore. I feel battered, bruised, poked at, and beat down. And had the humbling experience of not being able to shower by myself tonight. Can't say I've ever felt this truly miserable in my life. 

And again, I feel like an asshole for complaining. Because it could be so much worse. People have it so much worse then I do. 

I think he's getting tired of me apologizing. I just feel so bad that he has to cart me around. Help me out of the car and sometimes out of bed. I'm just so worried he's going to decide I'm not worth all this trouble. It's only going to get worse. 

The thought is utterly terrifying. I've had it happen before. Been deemed not good enough and had to rebuild myself and my life from scratch. I just don't think I could do it again. Not that I think he's really going to leave, I'm just worried. Scared of the possibility. Cause really, I would blame him. 

Maybe this is just my way of focusing on something other then my health. Projecting maybe. 

I don't know. I just feel so hopeless..

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Life sucks again..

Well, I only seem to need this outlet when my life is falling apart somehow and I need to vent. I guess that's I good thing though, since it's been years since my last post.

This isn't going to be eloquent, I really just need to bitch. I'm honestly just so mad. 

I feel like my life is going ok. I'm so in love, I feel like I've finally found the person I can see myself spending the rest of my life with, and I want to do just that. 
My job is going well, I feel secure that I'll have this position for sometime and may even try to move up. 
We've decided to build a home and are super scared and excited for that. 
Everything just seems to be working out and going really well for once. 

Why can't things just be content? I am ok. Things are not crazy. No wild out of control events. No struggle. Not much stress. Just nice, day to day life. 

Life is good. 

Until I start to feel funny. Little blips I call them. I'm dizzy, I can't focus my eyes, and I'm "daydreaming" at random times. I don't lose consciousness but I can't pull myself out of it either. So, off to the doctor I go. 

Long story short, after a round of brain tests, what I was expecting to be epilepsy, has turned out to be M.S. 

Just writing about this makes me cry. I know this isn't the end of the world. And so many people have been nice enough to reach out to me to tell me how they live with this and have had a long life, but I'm so lost in the moment right now that all I can concentrate on is the bad. 

I'm just so mad! Why the fuck can't I just be happy?!!! I'm not asking for diamonds and Ferraris. I just want simple. I just want my moment where he asks me to marry him, a small wedding, a nice home, a simple not complicated life. Why can't I have that?! Why do I have to be sick to?! 


So, I've been lying about how often or how much I hurt. I just don't see why I need to complain all the time so I keep it to myself. I didn't know that what I was feeling were symptoms of M.S so that's my own fault but I feel like now that they have me on meds, the symptoms are worse. I feel like I've had my big ass in the gym for 5 hours everyday for the last week, and we all know I haven't seen the inside of one of those for years. I'm weak and slow, and best of all.. the tingles. 

My face tingles all over. You know how when you hyperventilate and get to much oxygen your lips will sometimes tingle? That's happening all over my face but most of all on my head. At this very moment, I feel like I'm wearing at hat. I could swear on a stack of bibles that I have a hat on my damn head. 

I'm. Not. Wearing. A. Hat.!! 

That awesome occurrence caused me to have a panic attack right before he went to work tonight. Probably not the best send off. But, he did have a stoke of genius. He went and got my hat for me. Now I don't feel like I'm crazy hat-wearing-don't-actually-have-a-hat-on-lady. 

I guess all this bitching is just that. I feel robbed of the simple life I want and I don't understand why. Did I dream too big? Did I do something wrong? Or do I really just have that bad of luck? 

And through it all, I worry most about him. What if this progresses worse then I fear? What if I can't walk down the isle?
There will be no babies. 
Will he have to pull my legs from bed everyday because I can't do it in my own? 
Will he have to hold my hand and help me stand and do everything for me? 
Will he have to feed me? 

What if he decides this isn't the life that he wants? It's not the life I want for him. 

And what if I'm just being a baby and it will all be alright? 

What if I should just be thankful that it isn't something untimely way worse?.. 

Thursday, January 10, 2013

What to be when I grow up?

Okay, so technically I'm already "up", but I still don't know what I want to do with my life.

How sad is that? I'm about to be 27 and I still work a dead end job. I still struggle paycheck to paycheck and I still don't put any effort into bettering my life.

At what point do you step back, look at your life, and say, "I'm done making excuses. It's time to stop saying I wish, and I want, and do something."?

I'm at that point. But the thing is, I still don't feel like taking action is going to get me anywhere. Like a year down the road, I'll still be right where I am now. Plus, since I'm being honest here, I lack the will power to go out and grab what I want. It's all very frustrating.

My friend and I are talking about going back to school. We both want to do something that will better our futures. But what? And when I sit down and think about when I was most happy, I know I want to be a writer.

I love to write, but lets be honest, I'm not very good at it. My grammar is bad, my sentence structure needs help, and the stories are a little flat. But I feel like I have somewhat of a natural talent for it.

So I'm going to take my chances with school again, try to not think about the mountain of student loans I could acquire, and look into taking a creative writing and english course. I'm going to take a sledge hammer to the brick wall in my brain and put out a missing persons report on my muse. Cause this almost two year long writers block has got to go!

Wish me luck..

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

It's been a while..

I had a really difficult time this Christmas. It's hard to battle depression on any day, but particularly so during the holidays. At least I felt so.

Money is tight right now. I'm trying to keep my, and my boyfriends heads afloat with my meager wages. It's not working out so well. The economy is bad and he cant even seem to get a job at McDonalds. My stress level is so high I wonder why I haven't had an epic melt down yet.

Anyway, so this year, as much as I rejected the idea, we agreed not to do Christmas. Not one gift was given or received and I hated it. Giving presents is one of my favorite parts of the holidays. (cue 2 year old pouty face) It's also fun being asked, "what did you get for Christmas?" and having to answer, " uh, nothing." Instead, we pulled enough money together to help pay for Christmas Eve dinner with the family.

Christmas with my family was wonderful. We had a great dinner, managing to keep with the tradition of prime rib and baked potatoes, despite everyone's money woes. The kids opened gifts and we laughed and had a great time. I even got to sit and eat dinner with my ailing Papa. I couldn't have asked for a better time amiss all the stress.

But still, several times during the night I found myself spacing out. Thinking of the past and stressing about the future.

Is it bad that I still mourn my Granny, two years lost? Christmas with her was always my favorite. She was so festive and happy, decorating and making fudge and divinity. Her decorations are all over my family's home, making me miss her more. Making me wonder why it seems I'm the only one still sad. That's not fair, I know I'm not the only one still sad, I just seem to take longer getting over things.

Anyway, I know I haven't written here in a while. Sadly, my muse has been evading me for the last year and a half. I wonder if I'll ever find where she ran off to. However, I am glad that if nothing else, I can keep with my own little bit of tradition: Whining on my blog..

Friday, September 16, 2011


So, I just finished Lori Foster's Trace of Fever, and I loved it! She is an amazing author and I aspire to be even half as good at my craft as she is at hers.
Her books leave me feeling happy and content, however, they make me think. I consider myself a realist, but I can't help wonder if what I love to read and write are effecting my view on reality...

When I think of how I view relationships, I wonder if I have it all wrong. Will my desire to have, what I view as romance in a relationship, effect my judgment on that relationship? What if the person I get with isn't very romantic? Or what if they've expended their desire to be on someone who didn't appreciate it? Will I feel differently about them?

The men in the books I read are meant to be near perfect, I mean, aren't all women looking for the perfect man? Sure, they have flaws, if they didn't I'm sure the reader would see it and not connect as well. But, do men like that actually exist?

The kind that surprise you, spur of the moment, just because. Send you a random text or call or card just to show they were thinking about you. Like to hold your hand or caress your skin, just because they felt the need to touch you; to show you you're loved. The kind that aren't afraid to show affection in public and genuinely care for your feelings.

In my opinion, actions speak louder than words and you do not need to spend a lot of money to show how you really feel.

I know most women who write Romance can do it well because they have the added bonus of a man like that at their side. But how many men actually think to be sweet or romantic without some kind of prompt from their women or a required holiday?

I'm a bit jaded in my young age, I know. I guess I'm just worried that I perpetually have my head in the clouds.

I'm sure most men can be romantic, but honestly, it's not a requirement. It's just a nice thought...

Wednesday, August 10, 2011


It's been a long couple of days, but life seems to be getting back on track. I've spent some much needed time with my best friend and it allowed us to talk through a lot. It wasn't easy saying or hearing some things, but it is so good to have her back. More than anything, I have missed our connection.

We seperated the last of our things and officially closed the door on our life together. More tears were shed, more memories were boxed and life goes on. For as hard as it was in the end, I wouldn't change a second of the life we shared.

To my amazingly strong friend, I wish for nothing but happiness.

Five months gone today, a lifetime ahead, one step closer to being happy again.

Thursday, July 21, 2011


Life changed. Self lost. She walks to find her.

She misses feeling complete. She's tired of fighting, tired of being sad. Ready to give in, give up the life she had.

Gloomy gray clouds gather and rain starts to pour. Still she walks. The wind whistles and whips, drying the perspiration on her skin.

The sun fails to shine, inside as well as out.

Walking helps her think. Helps her put life into prospective with every additional step on the hard pebbled earth. The mile track twists and turns as the dark clouds move above her. The world seems to mirror her inner turmoil. 

Tears streak down her cheeks, salt mixing with rain water. She's out of breath. Out of sorts.

The sirens aren't loud enough to take her attention away from the taunting in her head. All her focus remains on the fact that she was not enough. Will never be good enough. 

She thought she'd risen above, triumphed over the pain. But her fear and sorrow have swallowed the best of her. 

She now fights with herself. Afraid to go back to that dark place. The place where a sharp knife or full pill bottle whisper tales of a painless and loving world. A world the coward in her aches to be a part of. She knows it's a battle she just might lose

The wind kicks up and knocks her off balance, it is a feeling she knows all too well. She takes a step in direction again, only to be stopped by the sound of shattering glass. 

She eases her mind from selfish thoughts, only to scramble for a feeling other than panic as reality sets in. 

The vibrating sky is only outdone by the roar of a beast on the ground. No time to run or hide, she darts for the the nearest workout station. Latching on to the metal, she prays it is rooted far enough in the ground. 

Debris is hurled at her, wood and metal hit the ground like bombs. She forgets what the building is supposed to look like as it is deformed and battered. Half of the glory it used to be. 

The roar is defening. Cars fly through the air. Trees are ripped at the root. Life in every measure is destroyed as she barely clings to her own. Her body is weary, heavy is her heart. Hands and thighs grip metal with a bruising strength. 

Rain slick fingers slide off one by one. She grabs blindly at nothing as her arms are swept behind her. Levered in the air, half anchored to the ground, she closes her eyes to the destruction, to the sickening knowledge that she will not get to say goodbye. 

Suddenly, a calm comes over her. Phantom arms wrap her in warmth, fill her with the love she has longed for these last few months.

She drowns in memories shared. Pictures flash like a viewfinder on her closed eyelids. Finally, she is at peace.

The last of her strength fails as the metal between her legs bends and groans. With one final thought of her Love, she is swept into the vortex, happiness filling her heart.