Featured

2018

When they tell you to prepare your family for your death it’s difficult to wrap your head around what you were just told. How do you process that? How are you supposed to tell them? Do you tell your kids? Everyone already knew I wasn’t in a healthy state, but fuck. I was wasting away in front of their eyes daily. Rail thin. A walking zombie, trying to be full of life, always in a constant state of pain. In and out of the doctors, it seemed like it was weekly, between the several doctors I was seeing, the lab work…I still have the marks from all the needles they stuck in my arms.

Even as a stubborn black hearted bitch I started living in a different way. I lived free. I lived like it was always my last day. I made sure to laugh every day. To make everyone smile every day. To be the sunshine and sparkles in everyone’s life that I was apart of. I learned to love myself, my life, to be happy with what I had, to appreciate every day.

I started taking more pictures of everything. My kids, my family, the world through my eyes; I wanted to leave behind memories from my perspective for my children. I took more selfies for them. People probably thought I was a self-absorbed bitch, but I didn’t care, they didn’t know my story and they weren’t going too until I was ready to tell it.

My clothes were so baggy on me, but why spend the money to buy more? I just started wearing leggings more. If I wore jean’s they looked gross on me. I tried to eat more protein to gain weight, but it didn’t matter. I could eat whatever I wanted and I just kept losing more weight, it was horrible. It got so bad I was lucky if I weighed 100 pounds soaking wet. I knew everyone around me was worried, hell I was worried, but I couldn’t show it. I had to just keep smiling, keep living.

There would be days where I would cry all day at my desk. Some of the deputies would message me asking if I was okay, they could hear the pain, the tears in my voice. I just passed it off as a migraine. I didn’t want people feeling sorry for me. I didn’t need them to know, didn’t want them to know the truth. I just kept hiding.

When I finally had an answer, it was relief. I could breathe again. Or so I thought. One autoimmune disease means there’s another. My life has changed. But that doesn’t mean I am not the same damn sunshine and sparkly unicorn poop bitch everyone has grown to love. I am still here. I just have illnesses that unfortunately rule some of my days. I just try not to let them wear the crown every day, just some days.

Lately, they have been winning, but fuck them. They need to chill the fuck out.

Sunshine, sparkles, and mother fucking unicorn poop!!

Featured

smelly shit

Liars. We have all come across them and chances are we have probably told a lie or two; especially as teenagers…But when do you stop lying to yourself and others? One would think when you grow up, but that isn’t always true. When you are okay with lying or acting like you didn’t hear what someone said, you cannot get upset with the consequences. And why lie when you know you were caught? It makes no sense to me. Lying makes a person question everything you have ever told them.

Was it that difficult? To actually hear every word I fucking said? I guess it was, because only half of what I said was heard, and the sad part is, that part of what was heard, wasn’t even the part that I was trying to get across.

I hate when I get so angry, so frustrated, that my words become a tangled mess and what I am trying to say comes out completely wrong. It sucks big donkey balls. Like why? Why can’t I just be like “look blah blah blah” and it actually just be the words, the point I am trying to make instead of all the smelly shit that is plugging me up?

I will tell you why. Because if it was actually all the smelly shit then my life would be simple and why on earth would my life be simple? It can’t. If my life was simple, I would have nothing to write about. I seriously have my smelly shit life to thank for my writing. YAY! My shit is my cheerleader, it keeps spewing out so I can keep going….

Guess that means everyone who enjoys my writing can also thank my smelly shit. Let’s all thank it together…ready…,” Thank you smelly shit!!” ugh…okay no seriously, though, my life is the contributor to my blog, my poems, it all.

Let me get back on track here, now that we got the thank you out the of way. Okay, so as I was saying, I can never just have one point when I am trying to say what is frustrating me. I seem to always have several different points. Instead of saying one and then talking about it I just keep rambling. You’re probably thinking, “no surprise, just look at your writing”. Okay, yes, I know 14 tabs always. BUT it gets fucking annoying when I really need to get my point across or heard and it comes out with millions of others.

My problem, besides having all these tabs always open, is the simple fact that I bottle everything up. I can’t just spew word vomit the second something is bugging me and because of this it all comes out at once. I have been trying to work on it. I was getting really good at it for a while and then I am not sure what the fuck happened. It is like I lost my mojo for word vomit. I am not even sure how that happens to a person like me, since I am words. Maybe its fear. Yeah, lets go with fear.

Why fear? Simple. I am afraid of pushing people away. I keep my circle small and those that know and love me don’t mind when I explode and go off on my smelly shit word vomits, but when I bottle shit up it’s because I fear that what I need to say might get taken the wrong way and I have to make sure I put the words in an order that won’t hurt feelings or get mixed up and said in a way I didn’t mean for them to be said.

Should it matter if I hurt others even if they hurt me? Ummm yes!! I am not the type of person who likes to hurt others. I’m not the type to bend people over and make them take whatever I give them. Can I be mean? Can’t everyone? That doesn’t mean I purposely hurt others.

So anyways, I was venting, spewing shit, and it all came out as this ball of camel spit. If I could have hit myself in the eye with it…fuck it was all such a mess. Nothing was said how I had planned in my head. NOTHING!! And the best part…well the fact that what I said was extremely important and only half of it was responded too, yeah that was awesomesauce…NOT!!!

Like how could you take the part that was the least important and respond? Because that meant no confrontation? Such fucking bullshit. I can’t stand that. Have some balls people. I legit said what I had been holding in for months, waiting, waiting for the truth, and I just kept waiting like a damn fool. I couldn’t wait any longer and that’s when this nasty mess happened. And instead of responded to the part I held in for so long, I had to ask myself later if I had even made mention. I went over it all again…yup I did. But it didn’t matter.

When do you know their shit stinks? When you can’t tell the difference between yours and theirs. I had this dilemma. Do I say something or let it go?

I flushed the fucking toilet.

If I hadn’t, I would have driven myself insane. Not gonna lie I did drive myself insane for some time before I let it go. I had a decision to make. I didn’t want my shit to keep smelling. If they want theirs too, well that’s on them. I couldn’t let it get to me anymore. Afterall, I had made a choice to let things go.

It wasn’t easy, but I didn’t know what else to do. I am sure there will be plenty of more times that I will need to flush the toilet, because let’s be real, everyone has smelly shit from time to time.

The smelly shit I hate the most is the lies. If you want to lie to someone, remember karma is a bitch, and remember who you decide to lie too. You shouldn’t be lying at all. What kind of person are you if you think it is okay to lie? I certainly don’t want those type of people in my life. Since I flushed the toilet…adios…

Standing on the toilet seat watching it drain, not waving, not saying goodbye, because in the end making the decision to lie was goodbye. We all make our choices. We are all responsible for what we do. A lie told is a decision, the more one lies, the bigger the web grows, can they even remember the truth? Getting caught in their web as a victim allows them to keep lying, unless you know the truth, and you question everything – then the web falls apart and they grow weak. Weakness makes them flush the toilet on their own.

My smelly shit might be a mess, but at least I can say it’s honest. Now I just need to get over my fear.

Sunshine, sparkles, and mother fuckin’ unicorn poop.

Featured

watching through the window

Ever feel like a fifth wheel abandoned in a desert with its windows knocked out? And you’re sitting there watching life pass you by through the broken glass, the edge’s sharp; be careful not to reach out you might cut yourself. You just sit there watching wondering if this is supposed to be life; a movie like perspective. All, well most of my life I have felt like this; like I am strolling along in a movie just watching different scenes. I tend to keep my mouth shut, I stay silent, more often than not. My word vomit is usually ugly or so I think, because I just say what is on my mind, and most of the time it doesn’t seem to fit the script of the current scene.

I am a stubborn person. Have you ever been in such a stubborn state of mind, that stubbornness where you refuse to put fucking sunblock on and the sunbeams are radiating down on you like a fucking spotlight, “we see you and your moody bullshit”?  Then BOOM only half your leg is burnt. You have a crispy leg that you didn’t order, it hurts worse than a bitchslap, and then it tans (thank you to my genes)…then you look like a half-eaten dunked Oreo. WTF…

UGH! And okay here comes my word vomit…it always seems to come out at the wrong damn time. Like I said above, I feel like I am in a movie most times, I try to bite my tongue especially because the timing is probably bad, and because I have been told I am too forward…I personally don’t see the issue with this. I would rather someone be forward with me, than beat around the damn bush. If tears fall just hand me the box of tissues. I got my big girl panties on. Okay, okay…my word vomit well once I get going it flows like hot lava flows from your ass after you eat Taco Bell.

You know what I seriously dislike, maybe even hate, and hate is a strong word, because it takes a whole lot to make me hate something. Liars. Assholes. Especially asshole liars…liars spew lies which are worse than the hot lava Taco Bell causes. Nobody likes a fucking lair. But you gotta love when lairs think they are fooling everyone. No no, whatever pet or nick name you want to insert here, you just think you are. Take a closer look in the mirror or at your next selfie, we can all see through your bullshit. Only a bullshitter can’t see beyond their shit in the toilet. Nasty nasty. Clean that up. Do us all a favor and stop trying to feed it to us. We can see it, smell it, and we don’t fuck want it. Remember nobody likes a fucking asshole liar, or just a liar, so be fucking NICE and be HONEST!!

Also, if in life you no longer want to be someone’s friend, just stop acting like you give a shit; here’s my fucking word vomit…seriously. Stop secretly acting like you care, when you actually don’t, because if you did you would reach out. Remember that thing you have in your hand nonstop, yeah, it is called a phone, its used for more than social fucking media…it works both ways, I know it does. But I can only reach out so many times before I throw in the fuck it towel, because my fuck it towel is WORN THE FUCK OUT. Yup, I said it. HOT FUCKIN’ LAVA…oh fucking well.

I clean up well. My feelings have been run over time and time again. I decided a while ago quality over quantity and it was the best decision I could have ever made. Adults work through shit, they communicate. I can’t keep biting my tongue when I feel like my words don’t fit the script. I am the author of my own story and if I keep holding back, I am never going to be happy the way I deserve to be happy. So, word vomit, spewing out like I am not afraid anymore, like I dance, I am not afraid who see’s me dancing, so why should I be afraid to use my voice in the same way? I shouldn’t. I have shut my voice down over and over again. I can’t anymore. I won’t.

I am not going to just bend over and bite my tongue anymore. I am going to put a smile on my face, because I shouldn’t have to pretend to be okay with what is being decided for me. I am not a tumble weed rolling by a broken down fifth wheel with a lost little girl looking out the broken window needing a toilet for the Taco Bell that is about to run down her leg. I am not going to be that leftover McDonald’s that has been left in a car all day and attempted to be revived but the CPR failed…nope that is not me. I am a fighter. I am.

Sunshine, sparkles, and mother fucking unicorn poop.

Featured

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