Monthly Archives: August 2013



I don’t have a whole hell of alot going through my head at the current time. I suppose I’ve built up a tolerance to coffee. I was blasted last night for ‘hating’ on people. If someone does something I don’t like, or disagree with, I will bitch and moan about them with udder disgust. I have been a negative person for as long as I can remember, well, since I was 16-ish, and in the last few years have been progressively worse.

I have really been trying to come out of this negative mindset slump for some time now, with much success. But oftentimes I find myself slowing going back down that road. Why do I hate on people? These people that I hate on (usually) don’t even affect me in any way! Thanks to facebook, and the ability to creep on people that you never even see or talk to, I do. I creep alot, silently following people during my days at work. Sitting in front of the computer with other things to do, but I’d prefer to creep. I guess it’s all about comparison. And most people only highlight themselves on facebook, so if I were to compare myself to someone else on there, I would be using everything I know about myself, against the highs of someone else’s timeline. That’s just not fair to me, unless the other person is really boring and sucks at life.

Then there are those that put their ENTIRE lives on facebook. Everybody knows somebody like that. I have unsubscribed to the updates of these people, as they annoy the hell out of me. It also annoys me when girls that are gorgeous with perfect figures post a million pictures of themselves in a bathing suit on the beach every summer. It’s like they are screaming for attention. There’s no need for that. You can be beautiful and have a perfect figure and NOT show it off. Just look in the mirror and feel good about yourself as opposed to waiting on lonely horny old guys to tell you how sexy you are. Seriously. Teenage girls are the absolute WORST! Millions of pictures of them in bathroom mirrors making god awful faces, and terrible fake smiles. What are they trying to gain here? Do they not believe they are beautiful already? Do they really need people to ‘like’ their photos? Someone shoot me, please. Btw, I have unsubscribed from everyone I’m friends with that have violated these things that I am complaining about.

Back when I was a teenage girl, the internet was just beginning to become popular. I spent my afternoons (that I wasn’t at work, because I had a job from the time I turned 16) on AOL Instant messenger, and pirating music from Napster. If you wanted a ‘look’ inside someone else’s world you had to click on their ‘Info,’ or chat with them. Society today is just so different than even ten years ago. Ten years ago there was such a thing as privacy. All of everyone’s personal information was not on social media sites, and I’m convinced that the smart ones in today’s age are still the ones without the social media. If you ever do anything wrong, and you have a smart phone, you’ll be tracked.

You have those people that constantly complain of pain. This hurts, I’m going to this doctor, wish me luck. That hurts, I’m going to that doctor, pray for me. Again, I’ve unsubscribed. As far as I’m concerned though, if you have a problem with something in your life, with ANYTHING that you have control over, and you’re not doing EVERYTHING you can to overcome the problem, then you have no right to complain.

Pain/medical problems do not randomly select people and haunt them. We are the cause of our own medical ailments, in the WAY WE EAT. Eating right/organic is a different blog all together, but seriously. Don’t go to the doctor with every pain and take a medicine, right after you get a Quarter Pounder from McDonalds, french fries, and a soda, then complain to the world about your medical problem. DO NOT. You don’t have the right.

Don’t eat your ‘Wheaties’ of a morning, which are infested with Genetically-Modified ingredients and artificial sweeteners/preservatives, along with Anti-biotic laden pasteurized milk, and say you eat right and don’t know why your stomach hurts. Spare the world, and educate your damn self on what eating right REALLY means. It’s not about eating an apple a day. It’s a lifestyle change. Changing the way you think about all food. THAT’s the way to become healthy. By giving your body the nutrients it needs from every little bite of food you put in your mouth. Your body has the ability to heal itself of everything that could go wrong, but if you’re putting the wrong fuel in it, it won’t do shit for you. Haha, literally, it won’t shit for you (I say this because many months ago when I switched to an organic/all natural diet, I starting shitting after about every meal. Truly healthy food has a way of cleaning your system out, and keeping it that way)

Anyhow, back to the subject….people annoy me. I am sure I annoy them. But I do not have to put up with them. I only have to put up with myself. I guess that’s one amazing thing about facebook. People go longer without seeing each other in the real dimension because you see each other in the electronic dimension every day, and are satisfied longer without their presence. Thank you facebook, for making my life easier by appeasing people that annoy me with my pictures and my statuses, so I don’t have to see them as often. And no, I don’t believe I will be going to my high school reunion. I didn’t like hardly anybody I went to school with then, and I sure as hell won’t like them now. Why waste the sixty bucks?



ImageLeaning my head on your crib side at night,
listening to you breathe,
I drown in admiration for you.
One minute, a smile that beams of sunlight,
the next, a frown I know cannot be real,
and a cry,
for more attention than you're currently getting
Or another bottle, after you've just had one,
and refused the last little bit.
Splashing your little legs in the bathwater at night
And an open mouth promising sounds of delight
But nothing comes out,
much to your dismay.
Not mine, though, I hear you loud and clear.
Warm snuggles as you find the perfect resting place
On me, anywhere,
you drift off to sleep.
Until we lay you in your crib,
then it's cries again.
Those fat cheeks have me chained down
and I don't want to be released.
I love you even when you're screaming.
The loud shrill noises, to me,
Sound better than anyone else talking.
And when you hold my finger with your hand
I am very taken
I've never met anyone like you before
And I know I never will again.
you're my little baby
my Garden of Eden
or, Paradise.

Pure Sexyness.


This is SEX in the form of HAIR. This hairdo is the most amazing hairdo I’ve ever seen. And it’s a mullet. I hate mullets, but not this mullet. Yeah, these men don’t need hats because they’re TOO SEXY for hats! If I were a man, I’d get my hair done this way just to get chicks. This needs to come back into style. I’m going to find a guy with this big, loose, curly-type hair that’s long and give him this. And he will need to put me in a cage after.

mind medicine.


I would like to share my experiences with medicine and the psychiatric illusion that governs a great majority of Americans’ minds today. I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder and bipolar type I. I’ve tried many different medicines, combinations of medicines, and I remember just what was going through my head on all of them too. It’s scary trusting yourself to pull through being on this pill or that…being that the pharmaceutical industry wants you to be dependent on drugs, so they can depend on your money. I found a happy balance on one antidepressant and took it for two and a half years, before becoming pregnant, and immediately stopping it. It was my goal before that, though, to get off it and just be me again, flaws and all. Currently, I am un-medicated, taking multi-vitamins, and searching out natural cures anytime anything ails me and my family. It’s working out way better than ever before.

I was given Lexapro, starter dosage, 7 years ago, to help with depression. They weaned me upwards to about 40 mg a day, and I noticed a numbing sensation, concerning my emotions. I wasn’t happier with my situation in life, I just cared about it less. It was suddenly ok for my life to be bland and boring and not what I wanted at all. I took this for about six months, before coming to the realization that I didn’t want medicine to make me ok with where I was in life. I was unhappy for a reason, and I wanted to seek out that reason and address it. I stopped the Lexapro, made some life changes,  and went all natural for a couple years after.

About two years later, I found myself in a down disposition once again, but this time with very flighty mood swings, like a roller coaster ride. I started seeing a psychologist and a psychiatrist (for the first time) and after the first visit, was given Depakote. Now, I remember my little brother, who has Downsyndrome, ADHD, ODD, and alot of other stuff I can’t remember, being on it sometime in middle school. Previously, he was on Concerta, and it made him lose so much weight he became skeletal, so they switched to Depakote and be blew up like a BLIMP. He became large for the first time ever, and is still currently that way, fifty million medicines later. I remembered this when they prescribed the Depakote, and went home and threw them in the trash. I care more about my waistline than being mentally stable.

About one year later, I signed up for beauty school, and when it came time to fix actual people’s hair(not mannequinns), I found the social aspects of every interaction to be overwhelming, to say the least. I had MAJOR self confidence issues, and had too high of expectations. I found myself at the psychiatrist’s office once more, complaining of social phobia and a telltale rash I break out in when I’m trying to play it cool(so the person sitting in my chair doesn’t run away). I was put on a new medicine(at the time) Pristiq. It gave me the synthetic confidence I needed to make it through the rest of school. I still felt like myself, and all that anxiety was there, internally, and not on my chest. I could overthink my way out of any situation, and the person next to me would never know it. This was before my bipolar diagnosis, though, and it wasn’t long before I was self medicating with natural herbs, anxiety medications, and booze. I was losing it, going crazy, doing alot of things I don’t like to think about and I hope everyone else involved forgets about me back then too. They switched the medicine to Effexor, and sent me on my way. It wasn’t much different than Pristiq. Too much confidence, and I was making a fool of myself. Those natural nervous feelings(that kept me from doing so much) were there for a reason. To keep my ass in line. The antidepressants were overriding them, and I was over at alot of people’s houses, riding THEM. You ever see that movie, Black Snake Moan with Samuel Jackson? I was comparable to her. It wasn’t pretty.

It got so bad, after about four months, I was sent to a mental hospital day program, you attend like a job. They immediately gave me the diagnosis, and took me off the Effexor, and put me on a Lithium starter dose. I had some really crazy trippy dreams, and I started to hear the voice of God, and my deceased grandfather, having conversations with me, in my head. I began to think I was a prophet, and they were telling me the Rapture was near. This is very embarrassing to me, but looking back, it was the damn Lithium + coming off a high dose of Effexor cold turkey. Not me. I became so looney they put me in the mental hospital part where you DON’T go home at night, you stay there till they release you. There, they started giving me Zyprexa, ALOT more Lithium, and Ambien at night. I did alot more damage to my pathetic excuse of a life at the time, calling people from the hospital I did/did not care about and talking alot more shit, still feeling like a prophet sent from God. I was prophessing loads of bullshit and was a true character you’d laugh at in “One flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest.” I lost alot of friends and people I cared about during this time. My dad drove about 14 hours to get me out of there. After that I was just on the Lithium for a while.

Lithium. Nirvana wrote a song about it, a song I feel sums it up well. After I leveled out mentally, and realized I wasn’t a holy person sent from God to tell everyone the Rapture is tomorrow, I became a zombie. My thoughts were reduced to pretty much nothing. I thought about eating, sleeping (ALOT), and eating some more. When I was around others I had nothing to say. I just ate and slept over and over…and I missed myself. This was not me. This was a zombie I had turned into. Not to mention a bad folliculitis outbreak on my legs, which was three strikes for the Lithium, (You don’t mess with the way I LOOK), and I demanded to be taken off it. The psychiatrist switched me to Lamictal+Pristiq (because I was unhappy, imagine that!?), which is for seizures, but somehow helps stabilize moods. Which, I don’t know why he put me on that, because I HAD NO MOODS anymore! I gave Lamictal a month, I was still a zombie with no thoughts, and you can tell by my facebook posts (next to none). I was some dull boring person, so I told him I didn’t want to take mood stabilizers anymore. Ever.

So he prescribed Wellbutrin 150 XL. That was my magical drug for the two and half years after that. I became myself almost immediately, started working in a salon, with moderate mood swings (this was who I am, I realized) and confidence. Enough to take control of my life again. It numbed out my low self esteem just enough to make me feel I could do what I wanted if I  persisted. So I stuck with it, and turned my life completely around to someone I could be proud to be. I still did other drugs that were not prescribed, but purchased in a convenience store for the first year of that, and managed just fine.

Drawing nearer to the pregnancy I felt that I didn’t know myself, the REAL me, anymore, so I tried stepping down off the Wellbutrin. I’d take a pill every other day for a while, then every two days, and it worked out finally when I completely stopped the day the pregnancy test was positive. I was almost the same, just MORE. MORE moods, mainly sadness, cynicism, and anger, and I had to learn to address controlling these. I did it naturally, just learning to hold my tongue, and not freak out. Life as I know it is a perception of feelings and emotions, normally way more amplified than reality would call for. I have to constantly remind myself of this as I resist the urge to REACT to EVERYTHING that REMOTELY rocks the boat.

Every little ailment, discomfort, or thing that seems un-normal in your head does not need to warrant a doctor visit. It’s your subconscious mind trying to convey a message to your conscious mind, usually requiring an action of some sort. It’s your inner mechanisms trying to repair themselves. You can chose whether you want to override it with medicine, and allow the problem to worsen without you even knowing about it, or work through it and get over it. The latter is more difficult, and SUCKS most of the time, but it comes with a sense of pride that you overcame. Taking medicine every single day is not overcoming your mental problems. It’s just saving them for later. You have to face the music one of these days, or sort through a million pills in a pill organizer, one. Your choice.

2nd Blog


It’s been a long time coming. I don’t usually feel overwhelmed with shit to say. But today I do. It’s probably the coffee…makes my mind run like Forrest Gump. RUN, FORREST!!!! Today, what is on my mind is…..being the person you want to be, not just ‘who you are’. SO many women, songs, men, out there are all about “Just being me,” or being ‘yourself’, or “I’m the same person around everyone, right?”. Why even talk about it? What is there to prove about being “you”? Every day changes us. Everyone of us. Hell, every SECOND changes us. We change with every thought, every quick trip to the gas station, every cigarette smoked. You may disagree, but I’m convinced of it. Every moment that passes by, that’s that much more ‘experience’ to add to the wall of growth. Why then, when talking about ourselves, do we look to the past, to the things we either did wrong/ok/or good, and associate who we are with it? That was a snapshot of who you USED to be. Everybody does it. What is more beneficial, though, is looking to the future, thinking about how others acted in certain situations that we are inspired by, or how we could have re-acted in the past and wish we would have, and trying to improve our actions in the present. IF you love yourself, that’s great. Good for you. If you don’t, and I’ve always had problems with liking myself, why use ‘just being myself’ as an excuse? If there’s things about yourself you don’t like, change them. If there’s things you dislike about other people, and you come to find you have that ‘trait’ in common with them, change it. When in the dating world, (I know alot of people, ALOT, have not been on the market in forever, and it’s  an obscure thought) you look for someone you click with. Someone that likes you for you. Where is the ‘chase’ in that? Where is the challenge? The race? There is none. It’s better to find a mate, or friends, that are one level above you (AS in, more advanced in the direction you’d like to see your path go) so that it’ll encourage you to keep on that path, and not camp out in the same ol’ comfortable spot. It’s too easy to stay in the same place. Very easy. That’s why so many people are doing it. Staying with the same stuff. Same lifestyle. Same ol’ couple of recipes for din din. Same style of clothes that you wear, and have since grade school. Same hairstyles. Same superficial thought process throughout the day. Or no thought process. Whatever. We’re creatures of habit, and I get that. Staying inside that box is comfortable, and why breakout and be uncomfortable? Well…growth, that’s why. Advancement. Changing in small ways, every day, to become who you want to be, not just who you are. Surrounding yourself with new crap you’re not familiar with to encourage you to be different than what you are. Not for the small minded. I mean, sure, if you absolutely love yourself, and you feel you are who you have ALWAYS dreamed of being, and you are where you’ve always dreamed of being IN LIFE, then stay where you are. Plateau it out. If you’re not, however, take the training wheels off the bike. It’s ok to skin your knees, if you’ll learn how to better take a curve the next time. Self-growth, the INTERNAL kind, takes alot of time, patience, and persistence. You only see results when you look wayy back, and see who you used to be and smile because you’re not like that anymore. Or talk to someone you used to talk to and are jarred because you used to be like that too, but are far from it now. It’s a fun little game, to try and become someone to entertain yourself. That’s what I’m working on, and have been for a while. I was trying to get to where I could entertain myself, be alone and be happier than I was around anyone else, because it requires effort. Not ‘watching this tv show’ or ‘that kind of movie’ entertaining yourself, but head play. Being able to sit and think thoughts and be happy doing it. Not on the smartphone, or reading a book, but being the show yourself, for yourself. If you can do that, it’ll be a start to liking yourself, and being desirable company for yourself, and of course others, sometimes polar opposite from you. Letting the creativity flow, so to say. I used to like to write those thoughts down, in poetry form, but I’ve lately become so critical of that, that I’ve stopped. I need to start again. This world is filled with so many sources of crap. Positive crap, negative crap, funny crap, sad crap, angry crap. We’re constantly taking so much crap in, we don’t take the time to unload crap. I guess that’s why there’s so many blogs, people are unloading the crap. Or worse yet, we stay on the surface level, with all the crap, that we don’t delve deep into the frigid waters underneath. It’s too cold down there…I’m coming back up for air. You ever talk to someone that had SO much to say? They just talked and talked, and talked, and you really wanted to get away from them? And tried to squirm and send subtle body language ‘signals’ to shut the hell up, but they’re so busy talking, in their own little world, they don’t get your signals? And it’s all just surface, what the weather is like talk. Head thinkers? God I hate being around people like that. They’re using YOU as their ‘medium’ to unload the crap that’s filled their brains, to the point to where they can no longer take ANYMORE in (like your subtle clues that you’re not listening). That sucks. They don’t take the time to ponder that maybe you have something to say as well! They’d get along fine with a listener, I suppose, one who has a black hole in their minds, and a black hole in their heart, for listening, and caring, for what this complete stranger (or aquaintance) has to say. You cannot control who/what you encounter every single time, but as for your free time, you can. The easiest way to change for the better is to be constantly mindful of what you’re putting into, well, your mind! Do you want to fill your gray matter with some sappy dirty love story Nora Roberts wrote? Or is that your escape from this reality because you’re bored with it? Why not change THIS REALITY you’re living in, so you don’t have to ESCAPE from it? How is reading a romance novel helping/inspiring you to change this dimension? Wouldn’t you rather nurture your gray matter with fuel to run around on a full tank of YOU. IF you don’t love yourself, why not become someone you fall in love with. That way, you won’t get bored, ever. Neither will anyone else around you. You’ll be a source for others, if not just your immediate family and/or friends. Letting your creativity flow, that was uniquely given to you the day you were conceived. YOUR Creativity, not someone else’s. If you don’t have that, I think you’re missing out. We’re all missing out to some degree. I guess what it boils down to is be the change you want to see in the world, even if it’s just a strong solid personality that’s not another recycling bin. If you don’t have a ‘you’ that you love, cultivate one. You don’t just have to be who you are. You can be anyone. Are you happy with your choice?

First blog ever


If only time could fly. I wish. I’d fast forward to birthing day. I had a rough week last week because this big pregnant belly was really getting to me, making me feel fat and ugly. But then Sam said something that really got me to thinking. He said he’s ready for the next chapter in his life. Ready to be a father. Have a family. I realized I am not ready, but that’s ok. It’s happening whether I want it to or not. So, whatever. I have a big belly. So what? He keeps on making jokes about me breastfeeding. Like I’m ‘going to’ whether I want to or not. That’s a joke! I considered it alittle at first, but then I googled pictures of post partum breasts, and quickly realized breastfeeding is not for me. Yeah, it’s free food. It’s also a free ticket to ‘boobies-looking-at-the-ground-town”, so no thank you. A breast feeding advocate would argue that breastfeeding is the sole intended purpose for breast-a-tis. But it all depends on what you believe in. Creationism or Evolution. I believe in the Creation, believe it or not, and in the beginning there was only Adam and Eve. Eve was ONLY made to keep Adam company, and to please him. Aesthetically, Emotionally, and SEXUALLY. Those tits were JUST for looking. And feeling. And other things that would probably make my mom squirm. NOT for feeding tubes. The way Boobs were originally intended. That was back before the serpent duped her dumbass into eating the forbidden fruit. Then there was the curse, and part of the curse was child birth. Giving birth, your body transforming into a basketball carrying, milk producing, fat storage house was a curse. Breastfeeding was part of the curse. Sex becoming something that could have shitty consequences was part of the curse. That is why I feel it’s so natural for me to feel such aversion to it. That is why everyone else is so happy, and not me. That is also why I will not breastfeed and will happily spend my last penny on a can of powdered formula for my Eden. Powdered formula HAS got to be more healthy anyways, being that I cannot eat healthy to save my life. Digested Doritoes, Girl Scout Cookies, and Banquet microwaveable meals just don’t make for the best breast milk, as far as I’m concerned. And sweet tea. GOD. Poor Eden. I feel she’s going to be high sprung with all the sweet tea I crave. And drink. She kicks alot mostly right after I drink tea. Maybe if I drink a tall Red Bull she’ll kick a hole in my stomach and pop out and roundhouse our cat in the jaw. I’m sure that cat whining for someone to pet her gets on Eden’s nerves as much as mine and Sam’s. I’ve always had the problem of wrapping up my ego in insignificant things. Like musicians that I used to be obsessed with. I don’t know why I did, but for some reason I thought that if I crammed all their lyrics, all their pictures, and the spoken words between songs on the live performance tapes, bought all their shirts and memoribilia, I’d somehow become some superfan superhero. It was really all about me worshipping them when I would listen to their music continiously over and over and nothing but. I looked up to them and liked to use their hate and anger as a hard shell to put up all around my world of vulnerability. I pretended to be a hard ass. It wasn’t until after, with the influence of a real man in the real world living a real life with mature views that I realized that True strength is being able to be honest with others and show your vulnerabilities without fear of rejection. I’ve honestly never been able to do that outside of being drunk or under the influence of SOMETHING. It’s a skill that I’m working on. And the whole time I was wrapping up my ego in stupid silly things, it was also wrapped up in my appearance. I felt ‘ok’ or ‘acceptable in society’ as long as I looked good, and could hide behind a wall of good looks. I’m not saying I’m Beyonce or anything, just when I had my makeup on, and cute clothes, and my figure and my nails done, everything was alright. My looks were my security blanket. Now, that I’m 6 months pregnant, baby Eden has twisted my blanket up and thrown it in the dirty clothes pile. I’m lost, and I’m having to try and find some decency, some kind of SOMETHING to desparately hold onto as a basis for some self confidence. No Big Badass lyrics to make me feel high and mighty anymore. No awesome outfits and thick chunky platforms anymore. And for God-sakes, no bottle of beer or Jim Beam to give me the fake self-confidence I for a long time depended on. Just a long black trenchcoat, four pairs of maternity pants, and seven large women’s shirts my mom gave me to hide behind. And an old worn out pair of Sketchers Shape-Ups (yes, I am aware that they don’t really work. I like them anyways.) I don’t even get my nails done anymore. It’s not that I’ve quit caring, I’m just trying to find the good within myself, the spark or whatever it is, that makes my mom think I’m the third greatest person in the world. Or whatever it is that keeps Sam with me and not out prowling facebook for hot girls (like he did before me). I’ve got quite the task at hand. I think I can overcome it. I have everything else thus far. And don’t nobody try and tell me “when you’re baby’s born, that will be your purpose in life.”. Phooey on that. Although that may be YOUR story, alot-of-moms-I-know, I did have a life before pregnancy. It was very shallow and empty, but it was a life, and it was all I knew. And I got the scars from that life on me and in me forever. I will never, EVER be ‘just a mommy’ or ‘my kid is my life’. Not for me. Sorry. Yes, taking care of Eden will be a big task for the next 18 years, but it won’t be the FOCUS of my life. What I’m trying to say is yes, I’m a selfish individual, and having a kid won’t break me of it. The selfishness will just rub off on her as I teach her my ways. 🙂