June 2022…Went back and forth on whether to share this on my blog, but in the end, petal after petal I decided to share. To often we hide how we are really feeling, because we are afraid of judgement. I say fuck the judgement (sorry Dad – I don’t think there is many more f bombs). Judge away, but remember to look in the mirror while you judge.

The water crystal clear, sand soft below my feet, I float freely along with the peaceful rocking waves. The clouds above fluffy, blocking the bright rays from my eyes as I drift calmly parallel to the shoreline. Looking down I can no longer see below me, the water dark. Where did the sand go? Darkness. Bubbles in front of my eyes, my chest swelling with pain. I can’t reach the bottom. How far did I float? Darkness surrounding me, enclosing, I can no longer see. I am numb, cold, sinking…

I’m drowning. Thoughts invade my paralyzed mind. I realize I am no longer holding my head high like I was just over a year ago. I tried to find the right path. Still blinded by darkness, I lose control, I am not sure there is a correct path, because lately no matter which path I choose I end up at the same dead end. Unknown depths of darkness in every direction as the pain fills my lungs I sink further and further…

The weight sits heavy on my shoulders. I am at the bottom, the sand rocky, poking my skin, making me uncomfortable. I still can’t see, can’t move, there’s so much pressure. How did I get here? I never wanted to be in this position again. The feeling of a scary dimly lit damp basement that smells of rotting wood and stale mold with no way out. I survived this once before. I was able to stand tall with both feet firm on the pavement, strong, not even the insane Nevada wind could push me over.

But here I was. Swallowed whole by the freezing lake. My chest on fire. Lost in this darkness. Nobody was going to be able to find me. The water too dark, too deep. I am a survivor. A fighter. I just don’t know how to get out of this situation. Lost in the depths unable to breathe, unable to scream for help. I can’t show my weakness. I have to be strong. My tears falling in solitude. I keep the dark thoughts to myself.

The pressure was building. It was becoming too much for my small frame to handle. I was buckling, the emotion was going to gush from every pore if the pressure didn’t subside. Still uncomfortable I laid there at the bottom wishing I could see, could breathe, could float to the surface. I just wanted to feel warm, feel the sun on my skin, and to stop this pain. Uncertain how I could do so. If only I had been wearing a lifejacket…

Would a lifejacket have saved me? I doubt it. With my luck somehow it would have been defective and I would still be in this position. I know how to swim, how to float, and even that didn’t save me. I was dark. How could I save myself? I seemed to be asking myself this over and over. Was I losing more of myself as the days went by?

I knew that I was the only one with answers on how to get help. Afterall, nobody even knew I was here. The further I drifted the colder the atmosphere grew. I am a stubborn one. I was shutting down. The pressure was getting to be too much. The last breath was holding on. My body was started to combust.

The darkness wrapped itself tighter around me constricting my movements. My ugly crying was loud. I vomited the ugliness I had been holding in too those close to me. I could feel the shock of what I spewed vibrating off their warm caring souls. The path that led to this was not one I saw coming, but I made decisions, ones I would never take back. Now I am drowning, seeing red, as I sink further.

Bubbles surrounded me. I couldn’t feel the rocky bottom. I could see again. There was light, but I was still under water. WHY!?! I said everything!!! I erupted like a volcano. It all escaped from me like a whitehead popping under pressure. Was I not clear enough? I don’t think I was. The snap and crackle were heard, but not the damn POP! Seriously. What do I have to do to be clear??? I need to get to the surface. Please!!!

I have realized I am going to float out here in the depths of the coldness for a while. No matter how clear I am, people will only hear what they want to hear. People listen to respond, not listen to listen and actually hear what needs to be heard. If they actually listened to everything one had to say they probably wouldn’t leave people helpless.

Although I am cold, frozen to be honest, I am responsible for myself; I am responsible for my attitude and efforts in life. I can be sour about how things are and not make changes or I can realize things are the way they are FOR NOW and start to make the changes necessary to make me happy. Not all things in my life can change. I have to decide if these things are worth making a big deal over or if they are things I just set to the side until I know how to handle the issue.

Letting go of things isn’t easy, but for my health it has become a necessary need. We all know Covid hit the world. I would like to say it just knocked me off balance, but it didn’t. It bent me over and had its way with me. Is it finished yet? Who knows. I am not a scientist, just a plain old human with common sense. Covid and I got real close this year. Instead of just a hand job it decided to rip my insides out and see if I could still survive. I couldn’t work. I ended up losing my job – thank you for fucking me without giving me the big O… And it just got worse from there. I like to try and stay positive, but it felt impossible through all of this. I was down in the dumps hanging out with Oscar. I tried to be happy, tried the whole fake smile bullshit, nothing was working. Until I let my stubbornness take over.

I decided to fight. I mean I already lost my job, was getting screwed left and right…how much worse could it get? I was determined to feel somewhat normal again. To be active, even just a little. I didn’t care if I had to use a rollator at my age. I was going to do whatever it took to start to feel like me again. Was it easy? Hell no. Even now it is not easy. The doctor told me it would take at least a year if not longer to feel 100% again. I still can’t exercise like I was. I still can’t go for 5k walks, I still can’t do a lot of things, but I am not giving up on being me. Does that mean I feel great? No longer depressed? I wish. I am on a path to recovery and every day I feel just a tiny bit better.

I would probably feel worse, but I already know that I am the only person who can control my attitude and my effort in this world. Sure, I can blame whomever the fuck I want that I am not happy or that my life sucks or that I can’t afford this or that, but you know what? It isn’t anyone else’s fault that I am not happy or that my life might suck, that I feel like I am drowning daily. I make myself happy and I let everyone that I allow in my life to add to my happiness. Those that are in my life help me make my life whole. I don’t want to depend 100% on others. I like being independent, but I recently learned we need to be okay with realizing we will never be completely 100% independent; we are all interdependent on each other. Which means I need to stop being so damn stubborn when someone is handing me a helping hand as I stink to the bottom.

There are kind hearted people out there willing to help when one is in need. Especially drowning to unknown depths, but I have to remember to be open and stop hiding the pain, the hurt, the ugly feelings, because keeping it all in only makes me sink further and further, beyond reach. If I sink too far, I might not be able to be saved.  If I want people to be honest and open with me, I better be honest and open with them.

Making the choices I have lately has helped me extremely. I have let a lot go, because of this, I can breathe again. I am still drowning, I can see sunlight, it is not enough to warm me up, but it is a start. I have much to work on. By starting this work, I hope that I will be able to reach the surface soon and maybe by the end of the year I will be sitting in the warm sand on the shore instead of at the bottom of the lake in the cold darkness.

We go through life either like zombies, with our heads held high, staring at the ground, on a leash, or a mixture. I can say I have gone through life doing it all. As I look around me and I see myself drowning I realize I am no longer holding my head high like I was just over a year ago. I am staring at the ground trying to find the correct path to go down. As the bubbles cross in front of me and I lose control I am not sure there is a correct path, because lately no matter which path I choose I end up at the same dead end. Unknown depths of darkness in every direction as the pain fills my lungs I sink further and further…

You can try and rescue me, but only I am in control. I know how to float; I know how to swim. I am strong, but sometimes I am weak. My stubbornness kicks in and I will survive once again. I AM.

Sunshine, sparkles, and mother fucking unicorn poop


my path

Sick. That is how I started the beginning of this year. Pale. Weak. Helpless. I could go on and go. I won’t bore you with that. Covid, horrible shit. Long Covid, even worse. Why? Well, because you aren’t just dealing with an illness for a few weeks. You are legit sick for who the fuck knows how long. Some days are better than others and other days just plain suck the life out of you; no energy, you feel like you are getting sick all over again, it’s a feeling you cannot explain. All you want is too just feel like yourself again or at least somewhat normal. Some days I feel like I could run a mile or two again, but I know if I tried, I would probably pass out after ten feet. My life has turned upside down over this. It has been a difficult transition, but I am coping with it better today than I was a few months ago.

Okay, on with my normal 14 open tabs…I have been home for four months, YES four months…hardly able to drive myself for any of it. Puzzle after puzzle, coloring page after coloring page, tissue after tissue of tears; I finally picked myself up and decided to do something about this nonsense. I could have sat here and let this virus continue to get me down, continue to rule most of my life, but then that wouldn’t be me. I am not that kind of person. I am not the person who sits there and takes it up the ass. If it’s up my ass…it’s because I want it there (sorry, not sorry).

I wanted a rollator (walker with wheels), because I was not going to sit there and watch the world go on without me. I have always been competitive and active. And here I was sitting there watching everyone play cornhole without me, I kept getting workout alerts on my Apple watch, etc. So, I was told I didn’t need this walker…like fuck I didn’t. I was so weak I couldn’t go up my damn stairs without losing my breathe, let alone shower without feeling like I was going to pass out. I stood up for myself and demanded this walker. I won…did anyone really doubt I wouldn’t? Bat the eyelashes, flash the smile…lol…insert the unicorn poop.

Yes, I started playing cornhole again. I was weak and still am at times. BUT today I am not using my walker to and from the car; I still need a chair most nights in between my throws, but I am okay with that. Slow and steady wins the race. Can’t just turn the oven on and expect it to be 450 degrees right that second…gotta have water for the water slide…Some things just take time. I am not always patient, but I am learning to be.

Sooo…lately I have been learning to handle this patience. It’s patience with my healing. At first, I was going to take on the normal approach…doctors and medicine…but it wasn’t making me feel better, it was honestly making me feel worse. I did find one doctor that actually listened to me, that would call and check up on me, that encouraged me to continue being strong in being my own advocate and the research I was doing. I was glad to find a doctor like this. It helped me with other doctors, but also made me frustrated when they didn’t listen. This is when I decided to take a different approach. I have always been very down to earth, so why was I not being this way when it comes to my body?? The hell if I know. Well, now I am. I have been feeling so much better. There is a reason most countries are healthier than the states are. There is a reason chemicals are horrible for us. LISTEN TO YOUR FUCKING BODY!!!

Besides the fact that I cannot eat gluten, I have gotten more cautious about checking the labels. I have also gone back to my daily protein shakes. I make sure I am drinking anywhere from half to a full gallon of water again daily. And no alcohol. I feel 100% better. I have energy again. I look health again. People notice. They comment on it. Even for my skin I have gone to natural products. We are what we put into our body’s and what we put on them; as well as how we treat them. If we respect our bodies, our temples; they will respect us.

In the small amount of time since I have started this new path, I have noticed so many differences and I couldn’t be happier. I am so thankful for deciding to make the decisions I have.

Yes, I still have my bad days. I still have my days of weakness where I can’t do much, but guess what, my body is still healing. I was told it could take a year or more to get back to a full recovery. I had to face reality. If I didn’t, I would not have been able to face every day. I would have just been a sad puddle of a couch potato feeling sorry for myself. Instead, I decided to get the fuck up and fight, fight for me. Why? Because who the fuck else is going to fight for me? By the time I get out of bed everyone is at work and school. It was and is up to me to move my body out of bed, downstairs, get some nourishment in my body.

If I had given up I wouldn’t have been able to watch my son walk across the stage in a few weeks to get his high school diploma, or see the excitement on his face when he told me about the internship he will be starting this summer, or hear about the exciting trip my oldest daughter gets to go on in a few years, or watch my youngest daughter join NJHS, enjoy daily conversations with my kids, my daily routines with my boyfriend, my family, my amazing friendships (I can say that because they are quality), the bipolar weather in NV, and life…I love life.

If only people would stop making excuses. I used to be a person who made excuses and sometimes I still do; especially when it comes to certain things. BUT I am trying my hardest to stop making excuses, because I want to feel better; mind and body, and those excuses get you fucking nowhere. Anyways, again get the fuck up off the couch, get yourself together, pull the stick out of your ass, and do what you have to do to make yourself feel better.

It isn’t up to the person sitting next to you to make you better, to make you happy, to make you feel on top the of world, because honey the only thing that is going to make you feel any of that on a regular basis is YOU! Sure, they might make you feel that way for a day, a week, but think about it, do they make you feel that way everyday of every moment? Probably not. They are not in your head, your daily, moment to moment thoughts, because if you are an overthinker like me you overthink it all. Stop waiting for others to make you feel what you need to feel. If you need to feel beautiful, remind yourself you are beautiful, because chances are you are; unless you have an ugly soul; I said what I said.

I make no apologies for who I am. You either love me for who I am or you don’t. Move on if you don’t. I don’t have time for haters. But, most all of us have haters who are secretly fans…*kiss kiss* wink wink* love you bitches…

Love who you are. Take care of you. Make sure you stand up for yourself. Get the help you need. Only you know what it is you need. Listen to you body. Be strong. Be brave. And remember sometimes batteries are your best friend…its okay I won’t tell…

Sunshine, Sparkles, and Mother Fuckin’ Unicorn Poop