Proverbial Fuckery


I think the worst part about suicidal thoughts is the guilt. I feel so guilty for even having them. Like such a hypocrite. I am always trying to stay so positive and upbeat, trying to keep my head up on even the worst days. So when I just have a break down and can’t handle it, and the thoughts start flowing in about how I can’t handle this anymore. The anxiety starts to take over… and I just want to end it… that’s when the guilt kicks in. 

It hits me like a ton of bricks as well. Like I’m such a bad person for being so fake and acting so happy all the time. Like I’m just such a fucking mess and I should just be that mess. However I know if I do that, I will fall into a deep depression again and actually kill myself. I’ve done it before, barely made out, because my mom found me, and took me to the ER for an overdose. I was in a coma for two days. From a Sunday evening to that Tuesday afternoon. I was sick for weeks! 

I’m a mother. A damn good one. But my mother doesn’t think so. She made that vey clear tonight when we were arguing about my teenage daughter and what she’s doing with her life. My mom made it clear tonight that she sees me as a very unfit parent. She’s made comments in the past about giving up my children to the foster care system because I’m so sick and can’t work, and someone else can take care of them. She thinks they need a mother who can cook and clean for them. My girls are 17, 10, and 7. We also live in an apartment inside a huge house where I live with friends who cook for me and my girls. 

My mom doesn’t agree with my lifestyle. She’s made that very clear. My oldest daughter makes me out to be an evil witch to everyone. She makes me out to be a drunken slut, apparently. Someone who only screams, sits around and then goes and has sex with random strangers. 

This couldn’t be farther from the truth.

It’s such an ugly time in my life, and I really don’t want to be in it. I’ve come a long way from where I’ve been, but I feel like my life will always be a painful shit show. That I’ll always be pushing  facade of happiness, and finding things to be happy about. Sweet tea. Coffee. My favorite slippers. I choose to be happy. I make myself happy. I ignore as much of my unhappiness as possible everyday. I focus on things that make me smile. Like the sunsets. The giggles of adorable little goofy kids. The smell of rain. Not the feel, because it kills me when it rains. 

Tonight I feel so betrayed by my family and I am suicidal. I know I won’t take action, but my anxiety is crazy high. I’m in an intense amount of physical and emotional pain. My mother basically told me what a terrible mother I am, though I’ve never done the same to her.

She raised us in a polygamist environment, but not only that, it was a highly abusive one. My father was very physically abusive, grabbing at arms, legs, hair, whatever he could when he was upset. Slapping, spanking, whipping, you name it. Belts, spoons, spatulas, sticks, anything he could hit us with. Hours standing in corners. A dozen or more of us lined up in a row to get our hands beat because someone stole and nobody would admit it. My step mother was even worse. This all just before the age of 7, and I haven’t even mentioned the sexual abuse I endured that began before I could talk. 

Her second marriage to another polygamist family that made her a second wife again, which occurred when I was only 12 included a plethora of babysitting children (including a severely handicapped sister), doing endless chores, and living with disgusting charges pedophiles. They seemed to think it was quite alright to touch, poke, and peek in on me whenever they saw fit. When I defended myself against an attempted sexual assault, I was punished and made to stay home from any activities for months! Which included my birthday, while my attacker was able to roam free, and even attended  church dance on my 13th birthday. 

But yet, I’ve never stood in front of my mother and blamed my long standing issues from all my trauma on her directly. I have never stomped my foot and demanded she make right all the wrongs in my life! Fix everything she messed up! That she was to blame for every bad thing and every fault in my stars. 

Yet here she is… taking sides with my teenage daughter, blaming me for my daughter’s depression and bad attitude. Regardless of the fact that I’ve worked so hard to provide a good environment despite my downfalls. Despite our struggles. Despite everything that’s gone wrong in our life.

I have now been diagnosed with a plethora of medical ailments, as well as cptsd. Rheumatoid arthritis, osteoarthritis, hemicrania continua, degenerative disc disease, multiple schmorls nodes in my spine, a herniated disc in my lumbar, spinal nodules, cervical spinal fractures, gerd, severe ibs, celiac disease, fibromyalgia, as well as other issues. 

My entire life right now feels like a shit show. Like I’m going to suffer every damn day, forever. Like life is just going to continue to proverbially fuck me while I admire the sunsets, and drink my sweet tea… And pretend everything is ok. When it’s really REALLY just not.

Turn It Off


Tonight I lay in pain. Pain inside and out. Emotional, physical and just all around pain. 

I have been struggling all day, though I kept my head up. I smiled, did what I was supposed to do, and kept going. I mothered the children, went grocery shopping, trimmed the dog, fed the cats, etc. I held it together. I almost broke down in tears of pain multiple times. Both from physical and emotional pain. 

I don’t want to go through the garbage of dating. It’s so hard to deal with people. It’s annoying to try to figure out who likes you, who doesn’t. What’s the right amount of contact, what’s not. Who’s going to do what, blah blah blah. So much STUFF to do now, I just want it to be easier. I hate having to talk about myself. My kids. My living situation. My illnesses. My broken heart. My everything. And I can’t just NOT talk about it, because that’s just not who I am, and I would like to be honest with whomever I am with. 

So here I am in a world of dating where in order to DATE I have to lie abbot who I am, what’s going on in my life, and everything abbot me in order to actually get someone to date me. Then what? Creep it on him slowly and hope he likes me enough to stick around? That’s just ugly and dishonest. I can’t live like that. 

Or I go back to having a friends with benefits, and have all the physical benefits but when he realizes he’s getting feeling for me, which they always do, he flips out and acts like a total dipshit. Because the only guys who like fwb are immature jerks. 

So instead I am lonely. I am tired. I am hurt and frustrated with everything that use the dating scene. I’m hurt and frustrated with everything that has happened to me to screw me up this much. I’m hurt and frustrated with my chronically ill body. With my finances. My everything. I’m emotional because my body is an enemy when it should be an ally. 
I’m frustrated because I know I’ll never get over what happened to me until I can move on. I don’t even want to think about the emotional turmoil my heart has been pot through in the last year alone, and now that I’m ready to try to date, the waters are muddy and the dating scene is a joke. 

I have no idea why I have dating profiles, our apps. I have no idea why I accepts offers for dates. It seems if I don’t put out immediately, they lose interest and move on to the next girl who will. Which is perfectly fine, because they should be with the next girl if that’s all they want. I’m a highly sexual person, however it needs to be with that one person I choose. 
Today my joints are on fire. Feet, knees, hips; all the way up to my jaw. My gums are swollen, and my teeth just don’t feel right. It’s so strange how such a silly thing can make me feel so wrong. I close my mouth, and I just want to cry. So few understand what’s going on inside my body, and even fewer want to listen. It’s such a difficulty having your body crash, and change in such odd ways for no real reason. It makes me feel like a failure, because it MUST have been something I did. I must have eaten something I’m allergic to. Pushed myself too hard! Didn’t do things the right way, and now my body is acting out. But how can I exist in the world and not push myself? In already judged so harshly… I have things I must do, and sadly to accomplish tasks, sometimes by the next morning, in a swollen mess of a person. I’m nothing but misery and inflammation. I’m not even touchable. Kissable. Huggable. Because it will hurt me. It will hurt me physically, and as time has proven over and over again, my physical pain always ends up as someone’s emotional pain… Though they rarely Aaron to understand why it continuously affects me. 

My tongue hurts, and so talking was difficult and painful. My fingers all swollen, as well as elbows, shoulders, and neck. My back is simply a hone at this point! Degenerative disc disease, my entire cervical spine littered with fractures, bone spurs from tail bone to skull, multiple schmorls nodes, and herniated discs. Enough to make anyone want to jump out of their skin. But me? I carry on smiling and trying my damndest to be ok. My hemicrania continua in full effect and trigeminal neuropathy on top of it isn’t much fun, and makes it hard to even focus on what’s going on in front of me. Even my own family gets annoyed and tells me I can’t focus. People get frustrated having to repeat themselves. I just want to hide away and melt into the dirt sometimes. I’m convinced I’ll die alone…

Not because I am a bad person, but because people in general don’t have patience or time for someone like me; minus awful, manipulative men. I refuse to spend my time with humans who have ugly souls. Those who can’t handle me, don’t deserve me. I’m a vey kind, patient, and loving person. Funny that becoming what I am now has brought me even more humility, and ability to care for others in a deep and understanding manner. It has allowed me to see what’s truly important. 

Family. Self truth. Whether yours differs from mine, it is your truth and mine is my truth, and that’s ok. Being there for humans in general. Making sure nobody feels alone in this world. Not a single person. 

So basically: Love. Love is the most important thing in this world! 

This is why I am having such a hard time tonight. Because I have this amazing love to share… and I would love a wonderful companion… however so many have deemed me unworthy of their love based on such awful and superficial reasons. This hurts my heart. Though I know it makes them truly unworthy of what I have to offer, it simply breaks my heart that so many people exist in the world with such ugly views. Not that everyone must give me a chance, and love me, blah blah blah. That’s just silly. I’m simply heartbroken by the amount of disgusting, ugly, awful messages I’ve gotten. By the wishy washy interest. By the ups and downs of casual dating life. By the way I’m treated for being an honest person, when so many want to be fed lies, because that’s all they know how to feed others. 

I don’t want to be fed any more lies. I don’t want to be lead on, or asked for pictures of myself anymore. I’m tired of being told I should go out with someone because we’re both “hot”. I am craving a CONNECTION. Not a romp in your bedroom. I want to feel something in my heart, not my groin. Something powerful inside my soul! Not an orgasm. 

I want a soul connection. Instead I’m alone in bed yet again. Disjointed, and disappointed with the male gender for what seems like my entire life. “SINGLE” for 4 years now, even though I have been told I was “loved” only half a year ago. 

My heart CRAVES you. Whoever you are. Whatever reason I’m hurting, and waiting. Perhaps I’ll always be a lost soul, meant to wander this earth lonely and seeking my kindred spirit. Perhaps I’m a whole person, never to find my pair. This pain inside is to remain for all time, and my illnesses are here to help me carry that blow. 

I’m an attractive, funny, fun, and kind human. I love hard, and I give freely. I care very much for those who I grow fond of. 

But tonight I hurt all over. Inside and out. Head to toe. Heart to head. I just wish I could turn it all off. 

Let My Heart Go


I lay awake in the wee hours of the morning, my heart suddenly struck by a now all too familiar pain. It’s been nearly a year since I plummeted into your eyes. Into your heart. Since I lost myself in your arms, and gave you my heart. 

I have changed so much since then, and yet remained so much the same. My chest often tightens, holding back the emotions I long to release. I’ve been trying to let go of you for what feels like an eternity. I’m very aware there’s no cure for this. No cure for a broken heart except time. 

At times like these I can’t help but wonder if I am pulled into this grief not because I am sad, or heart broken today… but because you are. There’s no denying we once had such a connection, and I sometimes wonder if it’s still there. I’ve often felt suddenly overwhelmed by emotions that didn’t feel as though they belonged to me, or the moment I was in, and I have fought with myself for far too long on the origins of these outbursts. Either answer, I am led to feel slightly crazy. 

I miss you every minute of every day, contrary to no longer wanting you in my life. You tore my heart from my chest, stomped on it, and walked away, as if I were nothing to you. Making a new life within a few short weeks of your last ” I love you” whispered in my ear. Our last embrace.. Such a short time between when your lips last touched mine, and life sprung inside your new lover. My heart cannot heal from that betrayal. To know you left me alone in my heartache to spend time with her is too much for my heart to handle. I didn’t deserve that. 

When I see you, my heart flutters and dies at the same time, like an endless dance in a morbid over dramatic theatrical death scene. I can’t even look at you without wanting to hug you and run from you simultaneously. Never to see you or touch you again. Yet, it kills me to not hear your voice and know your friendship. To not hear your laugh. Feel your arms wrap around me in a warm hug at the end of the day. To not hear you tell me about your misadventures, ideas, and worries. I can’t stand to miss out on you, yet I don’t want you near me. Such a contradiction of heart I’ve never felt before. 

I lay in bed, tears on my cheeks, pillow soaked in a pitiful sorrow that should be long forgotten. I despise how much I love you. I want to forget that you exist, yet I think of you every minute of every day. It’s the most agonizing thing my heart has ever been through. I nearly hate you for this, yet I am incapable of feeling that emotion for you. I know not what the purpose of this was, or why this attachment still exists. But it does… And it’s pure misery. I often ignore the emotions and feelings associated with you. Avoid your name, any subject that has to do with you, and stuff it all inside. I can’t live day to day with you on my mind and in my chest, pounding through my ribcage. That’s utter nonsense. Such ugliness. 

It’s 4:55am, and I have yet to sleep. You have flooded my dreams this week, and my heart cannot take any more! It’s agony to feel the way I feel. I have never loathed and loved someone at the same time, and the conflicting emotions make me feel as crazy as the Mad Hatter. I’m both Alice and the psychologically unstable top hat toting, tea drinking mad man; down into Wonderland, to be completely amazed and also totally psychotic. Lovely. I’ve lost my head.

Love has never been my strong suit, but when I fall it’s like falling from Everest. I fall hard and fast. I fall far! When I hit the ground, it hurts. I don’t know what it was that tripped me up, possibly your words (which I’ll never know what was truth and what was lies), or possibly just an unspoken trust from years of knowing one another. Either way, the heartache that comes along with losing you is like none I’ve ever felt before. It’s even worse that you don’t seem to mind half as much as I ever have. Not even a single bit as much as I do. 

Drive the stake into my heart further, J. It’s no big deal. It’s just my feelings. What are those to you anyway? Not your problem, right? Empathy never was your thing. 

Insomnia has been a long time friend of mine, and looking back at my life it’s no surprise. Night time has been a scary time for me since childhood. It’s just the cards I was delt. It always gets worse when my heart is heavy. But when you were around, sleep came so much easier. Soothing sounds of your slumber. It was like a puzzle piece to my life. 

I miss you tonight, and I don’t know why. I went to bed missing my new found lover. He’s kind, funny, and we get along so well. He fits well into my puzzle. But it was almost as though my lonely heart had to remind me who it truly belongs to, and that regardless of how much I try, I am not in ownership of my own heart. That it is not mine to give away to another. Not that it was my intentions now, or anytime soon. I’m in no rush to ever give that tattered old heart to anyone EVER the fuck again.

I want my heart back one day, please. I simply wish I knew how to get it back from you. Maybe one day you’ll finally let it go. 

My Life Force


I have regained my footing. My power. My love. My life force!

I feel as though I’ve taken back my power and your pockets are once again empty. Not a single bit of me left in your hands. You have no idea what to do with my powerful force anymore. I know you felt it leave. I saw it in your eyes, though I never met your gaze. I felt it returned to me as the day went on. 

The inability to catch my gaze, while you can’t take your eyes off of me. I noticed your ever increasing stare.  She noticed as well; don’t think she didn’t. What a thing to do in the presence of your lover. The mother of your unborn child. For shame. The powers have shifted back to my favor, and I’m never returning my feelings to you. A man like you doesn’t deserve a woman like me. You deserve a girl like her; one on your same level. Naive, irresponsible, and careless. I’m far beyond that stage in my life, and I need not the nonsensical drama that comes along with your immaturity. 

Go home and mourn the loss of me, like I mourned you long ago. Play house and see that there’s more to love than making babies. More to life than procreation. Hearts to hearts, and you had mine. Until yesterday. Until I saw you with her, and saw the way you looked at her, looked at me, and knew. Those eyes don’t sparkle anymore, do they? Not how they do for me. Not how they danced even weeks ago when I avoided your ever peering gaze, so unwanted, unwelcome, and hurtful. Dancing upon my face, my long hair, my smooth skin. I know you remember the force to be reckoned with that I am; that we are together. A storm that died before the new year began. Died because lies touched lips you dared to share between lovers. I never deserved that pain.

Now I will polish, cherish, and give my force of a heart to him. The man who now knows my touch, my kiss, my force to be reckoned with. He feels the power from me, and sees the value in my heart. 

I left you empty handed yesterday, and lined his pockets with a fierceness he’s not ever known. Mind, body, and soul. I blew through his door with a new found force, and blew his mind. You know the power I have, and now he knows it as well. Through and through. 
I have my heart back, and when I’m ready, I’ll give it away again. Maybe to my lined pocket man, maybe another. But for now, I’m full of my life force again. How’s it feel to be drained?

It’s Not Yours To Keep


I just want my heart back. 

Want to have my love back from you so I may give it to another one day. One who wants it. One who will cherish it, and appreciate it for what it is. 

My heart is not yours to keep, especially while you give yours to another. It’s so unfair that I have an empty chest while yours is so full, and so happy. I’ve tried all I can do to retrieve it from you, and I have no idea what else to do. I’m at a loss. 

I want to spend my time with someone who will love and appreciate me for who I am, and give myself to them fully. How can that be when you keep such a big piece of me in your pocket? You seem so nonchalant, and careless with my emotions. I’m a big girl, I’m in charge, right?

Such a naive thought, for once you’ve given your heart to another, only they can return it to you. I’ve been asking for mine back, and though you’ve been so cruel to mine, in your hands it remains. 

What are you doing with something so strong, yet so fragile? So big, yet invisible to the naked eye. 

You know you have me wrapped around your finger. You know you have my heart in your hands. It’s not yours to keep. Can I have it back please? And all in one piece? 



I wish I could specifically erase the memories I have of you that bring on the emotions. The ones that hurt when I hear about you. When I know you’re going to be at an event I want to attend, and I cannot bring myself to go anymore. 

The memories that bring on anxiety and depression in the middle of night, when I’m alone and I know you’re not. You’re with my replacement. The one who could have your kin, and was on so quick to take my place. When I’m at peace, but suddenly I feel your loss, and I hurt. I don’t want that anymore. 

Erase every memory, be it good or bad, and put you back in my mind where you belong. Just another face in the crowd. Just another person I know, but who isn’t past my fortress. Not someone I love and lost. Not someone who hurts me to the core when I see them. When I see you.

I feel so weak and pathetic. I wish I had amnesia. 

Why Don’t You?


Meibomian gland dysfunction. 

That’s the technical term for my eye issues. Also my lacrimal gland isn’t functioning properly. It’s caused a slew of problems to occur in my eyes,  including but not limited to,  my optic neuritis, the bulging vascular issues,  and slowed nerve responses.  Wahoo! 

Luckily the treatment for these are false tears,  which is just eye drops, and a nightly treatment of warm compresses and eyelid massages until the glands open up and start functioning again.  

I did my first treatment last night…  woke up to a BIG PUFFY FACE,  and many angry, swollen glands all over my body.  This isn’t going to be easy on me,  because what is,  right? Haha.  


Ahhhh. My body is something special.  A moody 82 yr old crazy thing.  For those that are counting,  in the last 3 weeks shone we’ve found:

Cervical spine fractures

Cervical spine bone spurs

Cervical spine osteoarthritis 

Cervical spine degenerative disc disease 

Thoracic spine degenerative disc disease 

Thoracic spine schmorls node herniated disc

Lumbar spine degenerative disc disease 

Lumbar spine schmorls node herniated disc

Lumbar spine posterior/left disc protrusion, causing a small amount of left neuroforaminal narrowing. 

In general, multilevel mild degenerative disc disease. 

And now meibomian gland dysfunction. 

I’m sure I’m leaving things out,  but I’m a bit overwhelmed.  This is on top of everything I have gone through and been diagnosed with since 2011. 

Rheumatiod disease doesn’t go away. It actually continues to destroy my joints and muscles.  Same with my osteoarthritis in my other joints.  In fact, all my joints in my feet,  ankles,  knees,  hips, shoulders,  elbows,  wrists, and hands have it.  Now we can confirm my back and neck has it as well! Lovely! 

I still have gerd and severe ibs. In fact,  most of my meds I take treat me for those.  I have a lot of issues and problems with my digestive system,  and about 18 inches of it is so damaged that if I am too active, it gets irritated and bleeds.  Yeah,  severe ibs puts pressure inside the intestines and can cadre internal blistering and hemorrhoid type issues,  which is what I have,  and it can cause major internal bleeding when irritated. So you can just imagine how hard it is not to irritate it with a seriously bad back like mine,  muscle issues from my other ailments,  and not being able to flex my abs much,  seeing as it’ll pull those intestinal walls and rip my internal sores open. Its a fun game of “What hurts more” i like to play.  

Fibromyalgia is not curable, but luckily the pain levels do fluctuate more so than the other ailments I have.  I know a lot of people think fibromyalgia is a bullshit illness,  however its been long documented in history,  and is referred to as “The Princess and The Pea” illness.  It causes the nerves to become ultra sensitive,  and IS AN ACTUAL MEDICAL ILLNESS! It’s been researched heavily, and they’ve been able to prove that those of us ergo have it react differently to pain stimulation, both in our nerves and our brains.  I have an actual diagnosis from a rheumatologist,  and I’m getting tired of people thinking its some bullshit excuse of an illness. I hate the damn exhaustion, the sensitivity,  the medications.  I hate it with a passion. It is real.  It blows.  Its my body. 

And visceral hypersensitivity! This one goes right along with ibs and fibro! It’s where I am SOOO lucky andI get to feel my intestines functioning and processing my food.  I actually feel my digestion,  and it HURTS.  The best part is that there’s a particular medication, but it’s $40 a month and my insurance won’t cover it. 

Celiac!!! A fun allergy to gluten. Wheat,  barley, and rye. Wheni eat it, I bloat, get very ill, and insanely moody! I swell up like a balloon,  and get insanely lethargic.  Basically my body freaks out and shuts down.  So fun! 

I actually have more little things wrong with me.  

How I react to bug bites.  How I react to grass.  To latex. To certain medicine.  There’s ado many random things! It’s insane.  

There’s people who are on my friends list,  HELL, who are in my family who don’t believe I’m suffering and I’m just dramatic.  That I’m over reacting,  and blow things up.  That I’m “too loud” and “talk too much” about things.  Nobody takes it seriously because I’m so vocal.  

But… they aren’t the ones going through this.  They aren’t the ones who are physically and emotionally dealing with this agony.  Who go back and forth from numb to intense tingling and pain. No! I am. I’m the one whoI deals with that.  

You aren’t the ones dealing with the blood loss, the vision loss, the loss of feeling,  the loss of friends,  and housing and jobs! No.  That’s me! 

You didn’t lose your dignity and pride and privacy! You didn’t have to beg people for help, and live place to place,  and have people call you names behind your back,  and stop being your friend because it was safer to believe you were a liar than to believe you were THAT SICK.  

You didn’t have to drag your beautiful daughters to a disgusting homeless shelter,  and get so sick you were legitimately afraid you were going to die,  only to have people stare at you,  and roll their eyes. Act like you’re such a drama queen again.  No.  That wasn’t you.  

That wasn’t any of you getting brain scans with new brain lesions on it,  and having to keep yourself together while the one person you thought you could always rely on disapears, and lies to you.  While everyone is whispering About what a mooch you are,  and how normal you look,  but you’re in agony every day.  

That’s me. I have been through hell and back just the last few months,  and there’s a handful of humans who have been there for me. 

I hate how many have doubted me.  

Said awful things about me.  

Been awful to me,  or about me.  

I even had someone who was sharing my gofundme and telling people I was selfish for keeping my children,  and I was a bad mother.  I stopped sharing my gofundme because YET AGAIN,  people were being awful about me.  

I’m a very sick human.  I legit sprain my elbow from brushing my hair.  I have at least 20 sores on my body right now from mosquito and spider bites.  I have a hard time wearing regular pants. And I can no longer wear bras with ANY kind of clasps.  I break out in hives.  

Im going through a really shitty time in my life, and I’m lucky enough to be around some amazing humans. But some of you are not so amazing to or about me,  and you don’t even know the truth  about me.  You just make assumptions because I’m pretty and put on a smile.  

I put on that smile for ME! To get me through this shit. Because if I don’t smile and joke my way through this awful stuff,  it’ll kill me.  It will literally take my life. 

So maybe instead of judging and trying to decide whether or not I’m sick enough for your point of view for my diagnosis, maybe just accept that I’m fighting off my own demons. Because this isn’t just physically hard,  it’s mentally and emotionally hard. And even though I can rise above the bullshit most days, sometimes knowing that there’s that doubt in the minds of people i care about… sucks. 

Because I believe you when you say you’re hurting.  Why don’t you believe me?