Used Tissue

Do you ever feel like you are someone else’s used tissue? They just wham, bam, smacked your ass, asked for a tissue to clean up their sticky mess and left you there going what the fucked just happened? Or their door mat? They wipe their fucking muddy ass boots all over it and shake it out when they feel the need to actually do something? Or maybe you are just an ATM. I need this, I need that. Fuck you!

I talk to many friends that are so unhappy in their situations. Or maybe some just love drama. But no seriously it is sad. I know there are three sides to every story. Each person’s side and the truth, but how many of us actually take the time to listen to all three sides? We don’t. We take sides. We join the drama. We add to the sticky mess in the tissue that can only hold so much.

But here’s the kicker! It is not just romantic relationships that have sticky used tissues, muddy door mats, or ATM abuse. Friendships go through the same mother fucking bullshit. Anyone have that friend who loves to swim in drama? Like a sperm finding an egg…yeah you know the one. They have to blame everyone for their bullshit lies. The lies that eventually karma will let slip and when that happens there will not be enough tissues to clean up that fucking mess. But like I said before; karma and me we tight bitches. I know how she works. I would never want to cross her again. She can be evil, your worst nightmare once she catches onto your games. You cannot run and hide from her. So, I just sit here waiting…

You can only be a used tissue, door mat, and an ATM for so long before you have had an enough. There are a very select few that know about my blog in my circle. I have been nervous to share it, because even though I do not care what others think about me, I do. But over the last few weeks I have grown stronger and I have realized why am I worrying? I am a used tissue and a door mat. I say FUCK THAT SHIT!

People can clean up their own damn sticky messes and shake out their own rugs. I love being here for my family and friends and I will always be someone they can count on. But to those who just use and abuse, blame their wrong doings on others….fuck that shit….clean up your own damn messes, because people who constantly choose themselves; yeah I do not have time for that bullshit. Need a box a tissues or tampons? Do us all a favor and drive yourself to the store and buy the product and stop blaming your problems on everyone else. Grow a pair of lady or man balls, look in the mirror, and face the fucking truth. The raw truth.

 

Heatherzilla

I can not hide anything. My face says everything. Want to know if I dislike you? Look at my face. Want to know if I like being around you? Look at my face. I have resting bitch face, no doubt about it, and it shows every emotion I feel. It is horrible. I wish there were times when I could shut it off. Be a chameleon. But then I would not be true to who I am. Better to be honest, blunt. It is not my fault if a person cannot handle it. Just means we are not meant to be friends. Move over, get out of my way, I do not have time for those who cannot handle the truth. The truth hurts. It can knock a person down. Get up. Dust yourself off. Grow from it. Remain positive. Keep facing the truth. It only makes you stronger.

I am probably annoyingly positive to a lot of people, but I do not give a shit. I walk around with this evil look of hate in my eyes, beautiful smile, fuck it all attitude, and always have a positive view on everything, at times. There are times when I let my eyes light up full of the happiness I feel to go along with my smile and attitude. Life is too short to be negative about everything. I am living for my children and myself. I will live how I want and if people do not like it, oh fucking well. Get your own life. Stop stalking me on social media, yeah you know who you are. Yes, calling out my haters; let’s face it you are a fan, cannot get enough, because here you are wondering if any of my entries are about you. Honey, if you are wondering, then they probably are.

Haha! For those of you that know me, can you picture my face right now?? Pure resting bitch face with the brightest smile lighting up my eyes! Yeah you all know the face!! LOL!!! Completely enjoying myself right now as I type away on the keyboard, listening to music in the background, the puppies snoring, and the kid’s laughter as they watch silly videos on YouTube.

I am a total bitch and I am okay with that. Some call it being a bitch, others call it being a blunt honest person, either way I truly do not care. I see no reason to apologize for who I am. I will either be accepted for me or not. I am happy and that is all that matters.

People judge. We judge ourselves. We are so worried about what others think. I have too much on my plate, worrying about what everyone thinks about me is something I have decided to push off to the side, dump in the trash can. If someone has a problem with me fine. That is their problem, not mine. I have decided to live life my way. One day at a time. Happy. No longer caring what anyone thinks about me.

It is amazing how changing my out look on life has changed so many things. Not allowing negative thoughts filter their way in every day has been a huge thing. Remembering there is light in every bit of darkness. More positive thoughts begin to out weigh the negative and just these simple changes make life better. It also helps that I no longer care what anyone thinks about me, whether they like me or not, and by no longer apologizing for every little thing has done wonders.

I may wear my emotions on face, like a road map, but truth be told I am okay with this. This way I do not have to baby step around everyone. Everyone already knows where they stand with me.

A Secret

Being a secret can be a rush. There is that excitement. The adrenaline that fills your body. The rush of it running through your veins can be addicting. It becomes a habit. We know right from wrong at such a young age, and yet so many are okay with being a secret. The side piece. The second choice. The extra piece of pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving that everyone knows if they have they will have to undo the top button of their jeans. And here we are…someone’s secret, or passed secret, because, well lessons learned. Karma is a bitch.

I will fully admit I was a secret. Many people know I was a secret. It was a huge lesson in my life. Karma became my best friend for a while. She and I are pretty close. We’re tight bitches. I am sitting here debating in my head how to put my thoughts into words, it is not admitting who I am that I fear, I know what I did, and I am not afraid to admit what wrongs I have done in my life. I like to think of myself as an open book. I am sitting here debating where to go with this entry. I want my writing to reflect the things I go through, what I face, who I truly am, the raw, the deep dark thoughts that run through my head. This is who I am.

When I first started writing this entry it was going in a different direction. I did not like the way I wrote anything after this last paragraph. I was stuck. I kept going back and forth on whether I should post this or not. I decided not too until I took another look at it. Then the words came to me on exactly what I was trying to say, and of course I had to be driving down the highway. Hate when that happens.

I may be a secret, have been a secret, still am a secret, but I have a secret. I hide so much emotion behind my smile, my eyes, that only those that truly know me know the ends and outs of my pain. The dark twisty path my beautiful soul walks every day. The things I have experienced most would not survive, but here I am with my secrets that have made me who I am that only few know.

I stand strong today. I wear gold wings of hope, I am a voice in someone else’s darkness, their strength for just a few minutes, letting them know everything will be alright, getting help sent their way. That little bit of light in the deepest darkness of suffocation where one feels there is no hope. I survived my dark twisty thorn scar filled path for a reason. To help others.

Slowly, over the years, I have shared my secrets of pain. I wear them on my sleeves, embrace the path life has led me, and I have learned how to grow from the pain. I can honestly say I love the woman I am becoming. No longer do I fear of the shadows that lurk in the darkness.

Yes, I was a secret. I learned a huge lesson. Karma is a bitch. Karma teaches lessons if you are willing to learn.

Some of you are probably curious about what I meant when I said, ‘I may be a secret, have been a secret, still am a secret, but have a secret.’ In time.

 

 

 

 

Red Roses

The scent of roses fills the air. Looking around I am surrounded by a sea of red, pink, and white. Vomit! Beautiful flower arrangements making my head spin as I can no longer contain my laughter at the ridiculous amount of effort people spend on one fucking day to show their love or possible love for a person. There’s 364 other days to show how much appreciate and love one has for another and yet most people wait until this one day to show it. Seriously? WTF?

I would rather get flowers any other day of the year except on Valentine’s Day or Mother’s Day. Those are days flowers are excepted.

My thoughts. Just because he got you a dozen beautiful red roses for Valentine’s Day does not mean he loves you. Sweetheart here are some simple hard truths; like I said before it’s expected to get flower’s on Valentines Day, and since when does receiving flowers mean someone loves you? Trust me flowers don’t mean shit. You can sit there and pull the petals; he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not. We do not live in a cartoon, a utopia, or a fantasy world. We live in a real world. A world where everyone is too sensitive to face the truth.

Now if you get your favorite flower on a random day thought went into it. The man knows you, he thought about you, he wanted to make you feel warm and melt on the inside. If the flower is in your favorite color, then damn that man better get him some extra loving between the sheets. Lol.

Cut flowers die. The water gets nasty and stinky. Potted flowers last. They represent growth, nurturing, love, and so much more than cut flowers. They are flowers you can replant and have a constant reminder of how the person feels about you. They grow as the relationship grows.

He loves me…he loves me not…he loves me…he loves me not…

Facing the truth sucks. It’s the worst. But at some point, we must do it. We have to look in the mirror, be brave, swallow our pride, and really be honest with ourselves. I know I can be the sweetest nicest person until someone pisses me off then I can become the biggest bitch out there. I walk around with resting bitch face because of this most people find me unapproachable or intimidating as I have been told lately. I was raised to take shit from no one. I am also not afraid of who I am and the things I have done. Why be afraid of who we truly are and the things we have chosen to do? Grow a pair, face the truth, and own who you are.

We’ve pulled the petals from the flowers, faced the truth (maybe), and still we sit here with these unrealistic thoughts that fill our heads, overwhelm our every emotion making us sensitive whiny people who complain about everything that does not go our way. For fucks sake you just decided a man loves you because he bought you roses on a fucking overrated holiday!! Ugh and I thought I had problems…I mean I do, but damn at least I am realistic lol…

Flowers don’t mean shit. You can pull all the petals you want or post all the pictures taken to show “love” or “happiness”, but its all show, what happens when the doors are closed? Or there’s no audience? That’s the raw truth…can you face it?

Ooooohhhhhhhhhhhh Romeo, Romeo

*****if you get offended easily or are sensitive to nasty language close your eyes now…Or at least this entry*****

 

I truly am not an evil person…..so I may have small teeny tiny little devil horns holding up my halo, but really I am one of the sweetest nicest people you will ever meet unless you royally piss me off or cross me. Then ok I will be an evil bitch, your worst nightmare, and none of that keep your enemy’s closer shit…such bullshit.

I have a love hate relationship with Facebook, like most people I am sure. It is like a fucking traffic jam for people’s whiny ass drama or just people complaining all the fucking time!! Like seriously get over it all ready, so the douche bag does not like you, oh fucking well, they probably have three other side pieces anyways…or oh you hate your job…they treat you unfair…hmmm have you taken a look in the mirror!!??? Probably not, because if so all of your questions would be answered! Stop complaining, get over your bullshit, pull up your big girl panties, grab a tissue, and get on with your life. Nobody cares. They are all just too nice to say shut the fuck up!!!

I think it is hilarious when you come across those posts and it takes everything you have not to comment, when you just really really want to say something and your fingers start to twitch, you know that feeling? Well, that happened to me recently. I saw this post. “oh your this and your that and the greatest person blah blah blah”. First, of all really? This person probably had some other side piece in their bed fucking them sideways as this post was being created! But did I comment? No. I behaved. But it took everything I had to not respond!!! So much will power.

Isn’t funny how we read posts on social media from people we know, or posts they are tagged in and cannot help but laugh? People are fucked up. I will fully admit that I am. Like I said small devil horns holding up my halo. Maybe, just maybe my small devil horns are growing…hahaha. Eh, oh well. I am ok with that. Facebook can be quite entertaining if you let it.

Back to this post…you think you know a person, but do we ever truly know somebody? Only if they let us in. And by that I mean with everything, they aren’t afraid to tell their secrets, their past, their every fault, what makes them who they are, and they aren’t afraid to be honest. This post, yeah, I was not kidding when I said they probably had some other side piece in their bed fucking them sideways, or continually have another piece of meat in their bed besides this person who thinks they are the greatest thing since sliced bread. If only we truly knew who we were crawling into bed with…or who we thought were our heroes….

Karma is a bitch. Karma is not afraid to fuck up anyone. Karma sees everything.

my devil horns are definitely growing….

I am my worst enemy

I should be writing my essay for my English class, but sometimes life happens, and homework gets put on pause. Overthinking is my worst enemy. I fucking hate when my mind goes down a one way path the wrong fucking way and next thing I know I am dodging 5 million different what ifs, because I decided to go the wrong way. Seriously, where are the damn stop signs, someone break check me or something! Fuck!! You ever have those moments? Where you just cannot get your mind to stop? And of course it always has to happen right before bed….fml….maybe I will get lucky and writing my essay will help slow my mind down, doubtful, but one can hope.

As I am sitting here still overthinking, even though I know exactly what the issue is and how to fix it. I cannot help but at least laugh at myself realizing I am still a stupid fool who knows better. The girl who knows no matter how many ways I play it in my head, no matter which path I choose, no matter the amount of petals pulled, my answer is always going to be the same. Silly girl…it is better to leave the walls up and the heart always guarded.

I have learned many lessons in life and some I continue to test. Mistakes are made, but they are part of how I have become who I am. Each step, each mistake, each wrong turn, each lesson of every day of my life is a piece of me. Without my personal day to day adventures I would not be the person I am today, the good and the bad. We are each unique because of our own adventures. Thank goodness. I would not want to be like anyone else. I am glad I am who I am and have gone through the things I have, even the crappy stuff.

Tonight, I sit here reflecting on how I am in this mood I am in right at this moment. Is it the weather? This nasty bitter cold weather that has turn everything into ice? Or is it simply the fact that I have made decisions in my life that were difficult to make that have led to this point, this feeling I have right now? This heavy dark cloud of loneliness sitting above me weighing me down. Making the tears escape slowly from my eyes sliding down my cheeks as I type away at my keyboard knowing I need to get through this just to feel somewhat better that way I can finish my essay, go to bed, and wake up tomorrow morning to start a new day.

There is light in the darkest of moments. I just have to let it in.

 

This is me

Seriously, I have no idea why I do not wrap myself in bubble wrap and call it good. I am a walking accident. I am not even sure if that is the right word anymore.

Hello! I am Heather! Welcome to my blog. This blog is about my everyday life. I find it interesting, funny and well sometimes just like WTF did that really just happen? This shit cannot be made up!! Yes, I will use profanity, texting acronyms, maybe even an emoji here and there; so, I am warning you now if you get offended easily stop reading. I do not have much of a filter once I get going. I will do my best to advise on entries that need warning…no promises guaranteed.

As a mom of three I am always on the go. My life is busy. My son is 14, a freshman in high school, and is already talking about what college he wants to go to and when he is going to apply. Yay!!! I did something right! Lol. When I was a freshman I was counting down the days until I turned 18 and could move out! My son is very motivated and ambitious. I am extremely proud of him and the maturity he has shown lately. My 12-year-old daughter is an animal lover and dreams about becoming a veterinarian. If she could bring home every stray animal, she would. I love her caring character. My 8-year-old diva daughter is one animated character for sure. She is full of sass, keeps me on my toes and is super girly. She is currently attempting to grow her hair out like Rapunzel…oh my. Even though she is full of attitude she can make anyone smile.

I am a 911 dispatcher. Most of the time at work I am a black cloud. I like to think my cloud rains glitter just to keep it slightly happy…positive thoughts equal positivity…maybe? I love my job. I can honestly say that even on the worst darkest evilest day at work I still walk out of the building wanting to go back the next day. Even when I am sicker than sick I still would rather be at work than curled up on my couch or in bed. Maybe I am sick in the head? Eh oh well.

As if I do not already have enough on my plate. I felt I needed to add more to it, because why not. I decided to go back to school full time. Yay! Go me! I have dreams, goals, places and plans I want to see and fulfill. I want to show my children that you can reach your goals no matter your age. Age is just a number after all; when it comes to certain things.

My life is busy and crazy, but it is mine. I am living it the way I want to, not how everyone else wants me too. I changed way too many times for way too many people. Welcome to the crazy…remember you have been warned. 😊