Oh how quickly things change

Well, sometimes parents can be very surprising.

  

My mom apologized to me on Sunday morning for some words that we had on Friday afternoon.  I spent Friday night and all day Saturday upset.  It had been a difficult week.  Mom & I having words only made it worse. 

One of my best friend's fiance had lost his father.  When I went to the viewing - her fiance is also my friend - it was at the same funeral home, in the same room, where my dad's viewing had been.  Being there for just a few minutes immensely taxed my willpower to not cry.  I didn't want to cry in front of their family because I didn't want to seem fake to them.  I gave my condolences but got out of there very quickly.  

Friday I drove 70 miles round trip for a job interview.  I got lost on the way.  Not seriously lost, but lost anyway, and was late to the interview.  The manager doing the interview was very understanding.  I wish I could say I got the job, but I didn't.  I found that out this week, but it's okay.  I had borrowed Mom's minivan to drive there.  When I dropped off the van, I told Mom about the interview.  We got to talking about another subject which is a sore subject between my mom and I.  One thing lead to another, and she was talking to me like I was a teenager.  Now, I wouldn't mind being talked to like I was a teenager, if I was still a teenager, but I am not and haven't been for a few years.

When I left, she was angry.  I was angry.  It wasn't pretty.  I got home.  With my mind already running roughshod over the viewing early in the week, being nervous about the job interview results and a few other things, I was a mess.  Tears came easily and quite often through the night and all day Saturday.  I talked with a very good friend early Sunday morning.  Try as they might, I still couldn't find peace of mind.  My friend and I had been communicating online, via messages.  When we were done talking, I still needed to hear a human voice.  

I tried reaching out to a few friends that I knew to be early birds, but to no avail.  Finally, in desperation of needing to hear a voice, I called my mom.  As we were talking, she said "I owe you an apology for how I talked to you on Friday.  I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have been like that."  My heart leaped.  To be very honest, and this is nothing against my mom at all, Mom doesn't normally apologize for harsh words she may have said.  She did this time.  I readily accepted her apology and started to cry again.  

Usually my mom will tell me to stop bawling.  She didn't this time.  We went on to have a really good conversation about why she was upset with me, and even found a peaceful way to deal with the issue.  It was amazing.  

Mom and I usually don't see eye to eye on many things.  It has improved greatly in the last few years, mainly because of Daddy leaving us.  We kinda had to learn to lean on each other a little more.  I normally leaned on Daddy.  Of course, that's who she leaned on.  When we were left with no other option, we had to learn to get along.  We've done that, for the most part.  We still butt heads often, but old habits truly do die hard, and that is a bad habit for both of us.  It was and can still be, easy for us to lash out at each other.  We are learning, though, which is wonderful.

My mom's apology destroyed my depressive swing completely in a matter of moments.  It is amazing what a few kind words can do for someone like me.  I know my mom and I will continue to clash.  I don't think that will ever change, but anything is possible.  She's even gotten tentatively on-board with me wanting to move away from the area.  She's not happy about it but she's listening to why I want to do it.  I suppose that will take a little time.  

All in all, what was working into an utter and complete meltdown became a shining hallmark moment for me and my mom's relationship.  Mom has even adjusted to my tongue piercing, lol.  She doesn't understand it but she's dealing with it.   I think it's cool, and something I've wanted to do for myself.  We have agreed to disagree on the subject. 

I know there will be times that Mom is going to forget I am a grown woman with my own ideas, wants and needs.  I know that she and I will butt heads again over something.  She's stubborn and so am I.  It is inevitable that it will happen.  Maybe it won't happen when I'm having an already bad week.  I can hope, right?  

She drives me crazy ocassionally but I love my mom.  She's tough, beautiful, and hard sometimes, but she loves me.  I am sincerely lucky.

      

Bipolar Mood Swings

This is a venting post.

I am feeling very out of sorts this morning, and a whole lot alone.

I'm tired.  I'm broke.  I'm frustrated.  I'm aggravated.   Every slight, every mean thing, every bad decision ever, is circling around in my head.

I want some mental quiet.  I want some emotional rest.

I want to curl up and hide.
 
I want my daddy.  When I felt like this in the past, Daddy would get frustrated with me, but he would hug me anyway and I could stop crying.  It would go away for a little while.  I feel lost now, because I don't have anyone like that anymore.

My cat looks at me like I'm nuts, rolls over and goes back to sleep.  To be honest, I get like this and kinda feel like I am a little crazy.  I know I'm not, but I feel that way.

I have friends, but they have their own lives, their own stresses, their own problems.  How fair would it be to them if I'm boohooing about my silly shit when they have more important things to deal with?  I love them too much to ask them to deal with my snot nosed, blubbering self.  I'm the person to be leaned on, not the one doing the leaning.  I may bitch sometimes to them, but they don't need me crying around like some baby not getting their own way.

Usually, I could care less if anyone is around.  I talk to who I want to talk to.  I listen to who I want to listen to.  I'm pretty independent normally.

Right now, I wish I wasn't so independent.  Right now, I wish I wasn't so alone.      

   

THE REMINDER LIST

I'm not perfect, I'm me.

If you judge me, I promise, I will prove you wrong!

I'm not you.  I don't want to be you.  I want to be me!

Believe what you want about me.  Say what you want to say about me.  When it is all said and done, you'll be the one looking stupid.

I need your support, not your judgement.  I need to live my own life; follow my own dreams; do the things that make me happy.  I would never hold you back.  Please don't do that to me.                                   

Small towns

I am a patient person.  I am a kind person.  I am a loving person.  I have learned to be a positive person.

Right now, I am none of the above.  I am an impatient person.  I am not feeling very kind.  I am an angry person.

A few you know that for my birthday, I indulged myself and did something I have wanted to do for a while...I got my tongue pierced.  I hadn't Mom yet, and had only told a few friends.  I planned on telling Mom when I was able to take it out without there being a problem with getting the piercing back in.

Well, someone already told her.  I do not know who, and she won't say.  I caught a huge ration of grief for doing it.  I don't know if it was one of my friends or somebody else from this small town.  I had it done at a place catty-corner across the street from the police station.  It could have been someone from there that knows I'm related to the chief.  I don't know.

What I do know...I am tired of not being able to do anything without someone running to tell my family.  I feel like I can't even breathe without someone keeping check on me.  I'm old enough to take care myself.  I have gotten help from family and friends on occasion in the past, but for the most part, I am very independent.  It feels like I can't do anything without somebody tracking my movements.  I need to get out of this town.

The longer I stay, the more angry I become.  I love my family.  I love my friends but I need to get out of here.

I have started legitimately job searching away here...away, away from here.  I won't be on the East Coast any longer than needed.  I am going somewhere fairly warm most of the year - no snow.  I'm going somewhere there are no tornados, no earthquakes, few wildfires, little rain, no humidity and somewhere there are actual things to do after midnight when I am usually awake.

I'm tired of feeling like everything I do gets checked and rechecked to see how stupid I've been.  I'm not stupid.  Yes, I have made questionable choices (who hasn't?) over the years, but nothing ridiculous.  Plenty of room in this country and I don't feel the need to stay put any longer.  The plan is now actively in place.  I am searching for a job
elsewhere.  Somehow I will manage to get out of here.  When?  I'm not sure but it will be as soon as possible...that much I do know.  

Comfort

I am feeling very lost right now.  A dear friend of mine lost their father yesterday after a long illness.  I wasn't prepared for the emotions that it has stirred up.  I am feeling like I got slugged in the gut.  I'm swamped with the memories of when I lost my dad.  I really miss him.
 

There is another issue at play, but that's not something I can talk about, at least, not right now.  My friend losing his dad has made dealing with that issue a little harder, that's all.  I am struggling to keep depression from taking over, really struggling.
 

Depression is self defeating.  That's why I am fighting it so hard.  I'm not feeling very positive at this point.  I can fall into bad habits (not eating right, etc.) too easily if I let depression grab hold.  That's another reason why I am fighting it.  I have come too far to this point, and I won't give up.  I need to fight harder.  I may not be exactly who I want to be right now, but I will be someday.  If I sidetrack now, that puts that day further away from me.  I don't want that.



I have another friend who is feeling very happy right now.  I am trying to assume his feelings of happiness rather than falling prey to my old habit of being negative.  I'm having trouble doing that, but his feelings of happiness are my immediate goal for myself.  I want to take comfort in that feeling rather than muddling through depression and sadness, so....
 

I fight.  I know what I want.  I know what I need to do.  I know I can be strong.  The middle of the night just makes it a little harder, because everyone, including me, thinks too much in the early hours of the day.


I have people who love me.  I have people who care about me.  I love me.  I care about me.  I have my work cut out for me for the next few days, while I get through this time.  I will make sure my friend knows he can count me too.  The loss of a parent is very hard.  I know all about it.  I'm remembering how tough it is while I write.  There is very little comfort for that kind of loss.

Keep me in your prayers and positive thoughts.  I need them.

Keep my friend in your prayers and thoughts too.  He needs them also.









                                        Thank you.


     

Trust

If I say "I trust you!", it is a big deal.  I do not trust easily.  I have always had trouble trusting people.  Because of that, I have a very small group of very close friends, and lots of acquaintances.  Those few that I truly trust, well, they all hold a piece of my heart. 

Every one of those close friends has earned my trust in some way.  I know it sounds terrible to admit that people must earn my trust.  When I am 'approached' with friendship, I am a lot like a feral cat.  I have to be convinced that I will be safe if I trust you.  Sometimes it doesn't take long, but other times, it may take weeks or even months.  Very few people have been able to do that, and those people mean all the world to me.

Most people, I trust a small amount.  I tend to follow my gut instinct about folks.  Sometimes I am wrong, but normally, they prove me out in the end.  That is one of the reasons I do not trust easily.  First impressions are very important, but my intuition is even more important.  

I guess you could say I am a 'trust but verify' kind of person.  Those that I trust have given me good reason to trust them.  Not a one of them, though, knows all of my 'secrets'.  One or two of them know a lot of my 'secrets' but even they don't know them all.  

There is only one, right now, that I would say knows the most about what makes me tick.  That person has given me very good reason to be as open with them as I have been.  They have been extremely open and trusting with me.  

I love the people I trust, and I trust the people that I love.  That will not change.

       

Thanks!

This is an open, public thank you to everyone for their birthday wishes on Wednesday.  Thank you!  I had the best birthday I have had in a very long time.  

There was nothing fancy, no big ridiculous presents or anything.  In fact, the only actual gift I got was something I got for myself, my ticket for the WWE Live show in December.  I was taken to lunch by a dear friend that I haven't seen in years.  We spent several hours at a local diner just talking, catching up.  It was a pleasant way to spend the afternoon.  We talked like we had seen each other a few days ago instead of months.  

I enjoyed receiving dozens of birthday wishes from friends far and near.  It warmed my heart and made me smile.  Happy birthday's from people that I care about are very special.  Some of the wishes I received, I will carry in my soul forever.

I thank you, all of you.  You have made me feel very lucky, and very beautiful.  Love you all!

  

The urge to leave

My thoughts are ricocheting around in my head like lottery balls.  There are things bouncing around up there like the song "I'm a Barbie Girl" to what I would do if I were a multi-millionaire (thanks, Ask.com).  None of it is sensible but all of it is sensible.  It is my creative brain running rampant in the middle of the night, when there is nothing better to do (don't worry, Boss Man & my sistas, I did several pages of homework earlier).  It is just another reason why this small town is no longer a good fit for me.

If I were in a city, there would be things to do, even at this hour of the morning.  I could be hanging out at an after hours club or at a diner.  Instead, I am sitting at a computer, writing about it.  Mixed in with it are thoughts of two dear friends fighting battles with illness, other friends facing the decline of their fathers,  my birthday (it's in two days), and the thought that I have accomplished so little in my life.  

I have goals.  I have dreams.  I have places I want to go, things I want to do...people I want to meet.  I can't accomplish any of it, sitting here, unemployed, in this small town.   

I'm going to school.  That's a good thing.  I'm losing weight, another good thing.  I am exercising, a really good thing.  I even quit smoking, probably the best of them all.  Now I just need to get employed and save enough money to get out of Dodge.  It is a long term goal at this point.  If by chance, some miracle happens, and I come into a shit ton of money...it's adios, 'Boro; hello anywhere warm! 

 

I regularly fight the urge to pack a bag, put the cat in a carrier and go.  I know my car couldn't do that, and I don't have the money to do that either.  I would head south and then west.  I'd be like the pioneers, following a dream that only I have, going to where I can start something new.  I would be discovering a new way of doing things for myself, changing the way I things are now.  I could strike out fresh, challenging my status quo.  

I need to find a way to get out of this rut that I feel caught in, spinning my wheels, praying the axle doesn't break.  Everyday, I'm find myself wishing that I was somewhere else.  Not someone else, because I'm happy with me.  Just somewhere else, somewhere warm, somewhere busy.  I've lived the quiet, small town life all of my life and I feel like I'm fading away long before I should.  

I need to get out of here before my hope runs out.  Before I become complacent and stop caring about having a life.  I don't want to be the old maid of this generation of family who did nothing but just "be".  I want to have fun, get a little crazy and do things no one else in my family has done.  

I want to be the one to visit the Tower of London, tour the Louvre and stand in the Coliseum.  I want to ride the Orient Express, see the Pyramids up close and walk the Great Wall.  I want to stand on a pier in Sydney Harbor and see the lemurs of Madagascar Island, on Madagascar Island.  I want to get on a plane and fly to Dublin, Tokyo or Rio de Janeiro.  I want to see the world. 

But first, I have to get a job and get out of this place.  Before my time runs out.  Before it's just a list of regrets, folded up neatly in my mind.      

            

Doing a happy dance :) :) :) :)

Okay, I had my rant.  Now I'm gonna do a happy dance.

I bought myself a birthday gift a few days ago.  It's money I probably should've used for something else, but truth be told, I couldn't resist.  As birthday gifts, for me, at least, it is pretty fucking awesome.  I bought myself a ticket to see WWE Live Holiday Show in Hershey on December 29th.  One ticket,  four rows away from the ring.  I can't wait!!!

I'm going by myself.  I'm use to that sort of stuff.  No big deal.  My best friend and her family are heading to the other WWE show that is in Washington DC that night, otherwise they would probably be with me.  I probably wouldn't be sitting 4 rows away from the ring, able to see straight ahead to the entrance ramp where the talent walks down to the ring, if my bestie and family were along.  I have no issue with going it alone.  As long as the weather is good, it's an easy drive and I like traveling alone.

I'm as excited as a little kid on Christmas morning.  I cannot wait.  The wrestlers on the show schedule...very, very excited to see...especially that close to the ring.  December 29th cannot get here soon enough.  Only way I don't go is if there is 3 feet of snow on the ground.  Knowing how the weather usually is in Pennsy in December, I ain't worried about that at all.  Me and old Percy will have no problem making the trip.  I'll have funds available if it does get ugly, I spend the night in a motel and go home when it's light.

I decided to spend the money for the ticket because I don't treat myself to things I really want very often.  I figured "WTF!!".  I want to have some fun.  This is a way a do it, right?? I'm quite sure that my family would roll their eyes and give me grief for the spending the money.  So, I ain't tellin em!  I get one birthday a year.  I am not given birthday gifts.  Hell, I'm lucky if I even get a birthday card.  I figure I'm worth it.

I'm waiting for the ticket to arrive via our friends at Ticketmaster and the US Postal Service.  When it arrives, I'm gonna happy dance, like Snoopy and friends.  Delivery timing should actually put the ticket here right about my birthday on the 16th.  And then, I will have to try to be patient...which will be tough!

 

Smarter, stronger

I have always had a big heart.  It's been broken by family, friends, boys, mean.  Every time it happens, I think it will never mend.  Every time it happens, I swear I will not let myself open to that pain again.

Then, I start to heal and the pain eases.  After a while, the pain becomes a ache, that resides restlessly in my heart.  Eventually it is a ghost of pain, and only the memory remains.

With each heartbreak, I have grown.  Some that know me well would say I've become hard.  I disagree.  When it comes to opening up to anyone, I'm just more selective.  There are very few people that I let passed the walls...very few.  

I know I'm distrustful.  I don't think I'm hard.  I'm smarter, stronger.  I'm not sad that I'm like that, because, honestly, I think I have been too open with my heart.  Many of the safeguards that others seem to have, I have never had.

I won't mull over the times that I've been broken.  It's in the past.  I can't change it.  All I can do is learn from it.  All I can do is use it to become stronger, to become a better version of me.  All I can do is let it strengthen me and firm up the walls around my heart.

Regardless of the fact that I have created a castle keep around my heart, there have been a few people that have found a way in.  They have gotten through.  They have made me vulnerable again.  I've found comfort, solace, peace, happiness have returned to the kingdom...recalling what it feels like to be open, remembering what it means to take that risk.

My heart will likely be broken again at some point in my life.  I know it will happen.  Am I afraid of it?  No.  With every break, my heart becomes greater than it had been.  With every experience, I become more of the person I am supposed to be.  Will it hurt?  I am sure it will hurt when it happens.  Will I give up?  No, I won't.  Being the best person I can be means I take a measured approach but still allow for someone new to make it passed the barriers and into my heart.

Few make me willing to take that risk.  If I trust someone new, it means that person is very special.  I don't let it happen often.  When I do, for me, it is a monumental event.  I hope they realize that.

   

An unhappy fan

I am not a happy Rybacker this morning!!!

I looked forward to WWE's latest pay per view since I first saw the poster...

My favorite wrestler, the man I have watched and drooled over forever, the featured Superstar!  I thought "Finally, some respect!!"

Was I ever wrong!!!  

The matchup was against CM Punk - another favorite, but definitely third string, in my book, when going against the Human Wrecking Ball.  It was a  refueled feud from late 2012/early 2013, brought on by Ry's new association with Punk's recently estranged manager, the evil mastermind Paul Heyman.  It promised to be an amazing battle between two of the WWE's best.  

For the most part, it was a great match, with Ry controlling the pace for most of the bout.  There is only one problem...regardless of strength,  no matter the power...the script will always call for someone to lose.  What pisses me off is, once again, the "brain trust" in the Creative Department at WWE determined that Ryback would lose to Punk!!!  To make matters worse, as if losing isn't bad enough, the match ended with a cheap shot to that area that can be the center of intense pleasure or freakishly horrible pain for all men!  It was a redo of the ending used for Ryback and Punk's first epic meeting in the squared circle, Hell in a Cell.  This time, Punk delivered the low blow, not some lackey referee.  

Of course, that Ry was nailed dead on with a foot to the balls is a dreadful thought to a fan like me.  Nearly as bad, again the Big Guy has lost at a pay per view.  This man is an awesome wrestler.  Every match, he has something new and improved to reveal to the fans.  Ryback the wrestler is proof positive that Ryan the man is driven to grow his character with a determination and passion for the business that is unmatched by any other wrestler.  It is frustrating to a fan like myself to watch as a company continually appears to mishandle someone that is not only an extremely high caliber wrestler but he is a devoted lifelong fan of the business!! 

To complicate matters further, making me even more angry about spending the $50 for the pay per view, the last match of the night ended in what can only be called a royally fucked up screwjob for both wrestlers.  But that is a bitch session for another blog post.   

I truly am not a pleased Ryback fan.  As a devoted Rybacker, I can only hope that tonight's episode of Monday Night Raw will bring Ryback some retribution against Punk.  A fellow Rybacker suggested that this may be part of the build to another match at Hell in a Cell at the end of October.  It would be poetic justice if Creative would give Ryback a huge win at Hell in a Cell.  Last year's HIAC match was the beginning of what would be a pay per view loss streak for Ry, and the scene of the first vicious sac-attack perpetrated against the Big Guy.  It is also scheduled to be the last HIAC pay per view.  

In my humble opinion, it would be a fantastic thing to have Ryback destroy Punk at Hell in a Cell.  I hope the buffoons in the WWE's Creative Department agree and give Ry an over the top victory.  I guess I will have to wait and see.

PS.  There was one shining moment during the match.  The crown had begun to chant 'You can't wrestle.' at the big, beautiful bald guy.  In what can only be called the perfect response, Ryback called out to the crowd "I don't care!"  A remarkable dose of attitude from the Big Guy.  I LOVED IT!!!

Pappy, Pap and October 4th

October 4th isn't necessarily a good day in my life.  It is the anniversary of the death of both grandfathers.  They died 32 years apart but they both died on October 4th.  I spent some time thinking about Pappy and Pap yesterday.  There were things I hadn't thought about in a long time.

Pappy (my Daddy's dad) died in 1974.  I was a very young girl when he died.  He died during the school day.  My school was within a quarter of a mile from where Pappy and Grandma lived.  During my lunchtime recess, I heard the ambulance that went to their house.  I was a kid.  I didn't think in that moment what a difference that sound indicated for my life.

We kids weren't told that Pappy had died until after school.  As the school bus came around the curve to our bus stop, my brother Matt and I saw our oldest brother waiting for us.  I looked back toward the house, saw Daddy was home already and my uncle's truck was there too.  I knew right then what had happened.  I got off the bus, already crying, saw my brother...a stoic fellow, even in seventh grade...was crying and I ran.  (Where I grew up is back a dirt lane.  It was and is a beautiful place, off the road with lots of room for five kids to grow up.)

I ran back the lane as fast as my short, little six year old legs could carry me.  When I got to our front yard, I saw Daddy and my uncle (his brother) sitting on the porch rail, crying and consoling each other.  I can't really remember anymore if I stopped to hug my dad or not.  I'm sure I did, being a Daddy's girl and all.  I do clearly remember running into the house and seeing my grandmother crying inconsolably on the couch.  My mom, my aunt, our pastor and his wife were all there, trying their best to settle her down.  How does a woman who had just lost her husband of thirty eight years find consolation?  She doesn't.

Pappy had died from his fourth massive coronary while taking his daily after lunch nap.  He had laid down on the davenport (Grandma's name for a sofa) as usual.  About half an hour into his nap, he sat straight up, looked at my grandmother, said her name, laid back down and was gone from this world.  When Grandma checked on him, he was dead.

The following days were filled with potluck meals, friends and family, tears, laughter...all the things that go with losing someone you love.  As a family, we were still recovering from the initial loss of Pappy when my seventh birthday arrived twelve days later.  My birthday that year was not a fun one.  The best thing about my birthday that year was my great aunt had decided to stay for an extended period to comfort and look after my grandmother, who was her little sister.  My great aunt was an marvelous human being.  Every visit was a tremendous treat, even during such a sad time.  She was a retired school teacher who had traveled around the world after she retired.  My great aunt was and still is one of my heroes.

Come forward thirty two years.  I had spent several months 'keeping watch' over my mother's dad, Pap.  He had been in declining health for awhile and didn't like being in his big house by himself at night.  I was off of work on disability.  I couldn't talk, which was a celebrated time in my family.  It didn't let me work though.  My employer at the time did not supply 'something else to do' if you were employed to answer the phone, so I wasn't working.  With my nature for being a vampire, I was the obvious choice to stay with Pap during the overnight hours.

I had a migraine.  I called Pap and asked if he minded if I stayed home because of feeling so miserable.  He said it was no problem.  My uncle lived next door, so if he needed anything, Pap would call him.  I told him thank you, love you and I would see him the next night.  I didn't get to see him the next night.  In the early morning hours of October 4th, 2006, I lost another grandfather to a massive heart attack.

I have to be honest.  I am ever so grateful to the good Lord that I was not there that night.  My cousin's husband, who had been living in the basement apartment, heard the thump of my grandfather's body hitting the floor.  He went upstairs to check on Pap and found him.  He called my uncle.  Again, the process of dealing with death began for my family.  That was, to that point, the worst phone call I had ever received.  Once more the following days were filled with casseroles, condolences, stories and loved ones.  It was kind of, and still is kind of, a blur in my memory.  The thing I remember most is my family getting together after the graveside service.  There was good food, a lot of laughter, quite a few tears and a whole lot of love.  Pap was someone who left a strong and great impression on everyone he met.  The grandkids (myself included) and great grandkids heard stories about Pap that made us laugh so hard that our sides hurt.

My family has always dealt with death by sharing tales and stories of our lost loved one.  We find comfort in re-living the escapades that made that person who they were in life.   Both of my grandfathers were characters.  I get my unique personality from a very strong family history of characters.  I'm proud of my family's collective history.  If I think about, maybe someday I will write a blog about some of the people I have found I am related to...including a current Hollywood actress; a United States president; a Civil War general; some high society blue bloods from the City of Brotherly Love; some Pilgrims; a moonshiner and an executed murderer.  Yeah, I've got an interesting family history.

Like I said previously, October 4th is not necessarily a good day in my life, but it is a day that makes me remember some of what makes me who I am.  I miss my grandfathers.  I miss my grandmothers.  I miss my dad.  I carry them with me, inside of me, every day.  They are a part of who I am, the good and the bad.  My history has helped build me, but it isn't all that I am.  It is the base that I now build on to become who I want to be, who I am determined to be.

I think Pappy and Pap would be proud of me.      

Day 5

Beginning of day 5 not smoking....

My body is still telling me I want a cigarette.  My brain is still telling me I want a cigarette.   My soul, my attitude...they are telling my brain & body "Fuck no!!!"  I want this...a non smoking life.  I will have a non smoking life.  So far, so good...

I'm still getting nicotine because of the electronic cigarette, just not the smoke.  The electronic cigarette takes care of the need to have that hand to mouth interaction that a smoker gets when they take a drag too.  It is heavier than a cigarette but it does definitely help.

I was worried about quitting.  I've wanted to do it, knew I needed to, but was worried about it.  It is giving up an old, though bad for me, friend.  I think that's why I have gone back to it in the past.

I don't want this friend anymore.  I am doing battle with my bad habit.  I've been told it takes 21 days to establish a new habit.  Okay...cool!  In 21 days, I will have established the habit of NOT SMOKING!!  I think that's pretty fucking awesome!!  I truly want this change!!  That makes all the difference.

Every time my brain says "Have a smoke.", my soul says "No way!!"  I will continue to fight this battle, work to maintain this new habit, every day for the rest of my LONG LIFE.  I definitely want this change more than I am afraid it.  I am determined to be successful.

Day 5...here I come!!!

Freak and all

When I was younger, if someone called me a freak, I was offended.  I spent days being upset.  How could they think I was a freak??  Really??? Me???

I've learned.  Along with claiming the title 'bitch', I now proudly claim the title 'freak'.  I don't want to be like everyone else, and I work hard to make sure I'm not.  There is nothing more boring in this world than someone who goes along, following what everyone else does; slaves to fashion, sheep following the flock...people with no imagination.

That is not me!!  I want to make sure that folks know that I am proud that I have a mind of my own.  I want to show my family, my friends...this woman stands out in the crowd for more reasons than her red hair!!  I want the world to know that I'm here to make a statement...I am alive!!  I am a survivor and a thriver!!  I will make my mark.  I will make my dreams come true.  If I can't find a place I want to be, then I will make a place!!

I'm done trying to fit in.  I've done that for far too long!!  It's time that I show the world that it's my time.  This is my era.  This is where it gets interesting.  This is when the freak speaks out.  It's time to stop being a prisoner: the dutiful daughter; the accommodating sister; the spinster aunt.  Not anymore!!!  Not for me any longer.  I'm done with being what everyone else wants me to be.  This is my time!  The drive to surpass my goals, the need to be heard, to be seen, to be known...that's where I'm at now.

So, call me bitch.  Call me freak.  See if I care.  I'll give you a wink, a smile and keep moving forward.  I know who I am and if it makes someone feel better to put a label on me, fine, do it!  Does not matter!!  I've got my attitude...I am positive.  I am a fighter...and I will fight tooth and nail, determined to get what I want out of this life.  I have the strength and the power, and I will be known...freak and all.

Day One

Day One, not smoking...not without struggle.  

I really want a cigarette!  Not joking in any way, I want a cigarette.  But...I have not, and will not, break down and buy a pack.  I have resorted to an electronic cigarette.  I even bought some cherry flavored filters to use.  They do have nicotine, so the craving has been curbed.  

It is an incredibly horrible habit to break.  Dieting is easier.  Exercising is easier.  Even though I know it is bad for me, and has always been bad for me, I still want the damned cigarette.  

I have to be stronger than the urge to smoke.  I AM stronger than the urge to smoke.  It's why I have gotten through the first day, and only used the electronic cigarette.  

The first day of my permanently non-smoking life...okay...got it, done it...time to conquer Day Two.

OORAH!!!