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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!!

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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.

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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

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her hell

I like to make people laugh, make their bad day better, put a smile on their face, and just over all be the sunshine and sparkles rather than the darkness and evil. But, right now I feel broken. I am in a dark place. I am lost. I feel like I was locked in a dark damp basement with no way out. The air is so thick I can’t breathe. It weighs me down. Makes my chest heavy, my body fatigued, and makes me feel ill.

My heart pounds as though it is trying to fight its way out of my chest. I swear if it had arms it would have ripped my rib cage apart by now. The knife in my back turns and twists like a wind-up toy as the room dances around me. I fall, but thankfully the wall catches me. The tears slide down my cheeks as I wonder how much longer I am trapped in this darkness. This maze with walls I can’t climb to see the way out.

Dependent. When I was in diapers. When I was a juvenile defying my parents. NOW.

My world has turned upside down once again. I am lost. So. Fucking. Lost. I hate depending on others. I am the chick that buys her own fucking flowers, who isn’t afraid to dance alone, who is the sunshine and sparkles for others, who is the positivity, and here I am not able to even fucking shower unless someone is home!!! I am screaming, crying on the inside. This air is so thick it weighs me down into a hell I haven’t been in, in a very long time.

As the weeks pass and my darkness only grows, I keep trying to find the light, the positive, because after all that is what I do. That is who I am. I do my research to find the light. To look at the bright side. To remind myself that this is not the end. This is just a new beginning. A new start. I might have to do things differently, I might have to plan ahead, and take more time. But I can’t let this define me.

I am determined to climb out of this dark damp basement. To fill my lungs without pain, to remove the knife, to put my heart back in its place, and to stop the world spinning around me. I know that I have a long road ahead of me, but I have overcome such darkness before and I will again. I may have challenges that lie in my way, but I have to remind myself that I am strong, that I can do this, that I have an amazing support system. I also have to remember some of the best advice I was given in December 2015 by a wise man; “adapt and overcome”. Those words have gotten me through a lot since December 2015.

So, maybe I am lost right now, not feeling my sunshine, sparkles, and let’s not forget the mother fucking unicorn poop, but I am going through a shit ton right now. Being home for five weeks (and who fucking knows how much longer), under what feels like lock and key, dependent on everyone, because you are so very ill, well who wouldn’t fucking feel lost, sad, depressed? AND you know what?!? I am fucking allowed to feel like this. I am allowed to be fucking scared. I am allowed to be angry. Frustrated. I can feel like I want to scream, cry, only want to eat ice cream and sushi… I am the only one who knows what my body feels like and it is SO SO SO FUCKING difficult to explain it. I want to feel like ME again. To feel like the Heather everyone knows and loves, but guess what, right now she’s not here. She is gone. She is in this basement. This basement she calls Hell.

As I sit here writing this, debating whether to post this, I remind myself people know you had the rona pneumonia, and in life there are always lessons if you pay attention. You learned a major one within the last year; I haven’t gone anywhere. I always post my blogs on my Facebook page so this one and the poem I wrote before this will not be any different. Thank you to all who have been there day after dark day. My boyfriend, my kids, my family, #6 & his girl, my bestie (yellow power ranger), my co-workers (cc/vegas), and my Cornhole family.

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twirl in my chair

Lack of sleep makes me worse than I am when I am a hangry bitch. I am awful to be around. I am moody, emotional, cry for no reason, overthink (and think the worse shit), fuck it’s like I am a 15-year-old teenage girl about to start my period in need of some damn chocolate. Thankfully I have some amazing ass people in my life who set me straight, let me know when I am overreacting, and when I should just smack myself for being stupid. Lol. It’s good to have people like that. I can literally say anything and there’s no judgement. I mean I am going to say whatever I want to everyone, because it’s who I am and let’s face it, I really don’t give a shit who likes me or who hates me. I am who I am and will not change for anyone. Love me for me or move the fuck over and out of my life.

Okay, so back to this lack of sleep nonsense bullshit that makes me a cranky fucker. I switched jobs months ago and I have had to learn how to slow down. This has been a struggle in itself. As a 911 dispatcher I pretty much had ADHD and now as an admin assistant I twirl in my chair 80% of the day…lol. Especially now that we have started to fill the empty positions. I AM GOING INSANE!!! Sooo. Fucking. Bored. And to help with my ADHD issue I listen to true crime podcasts or music while answering the phone and handling my little bits of work…..

SOOOO….the other day as I am fucking twirling in my chair choking myself to death with my headphone cord I was asked if I was bored most of the day…(mind you I couldn’t touch any of the things that needed to be completed because I printed them and per policy another co-worker has to finish them)….my eyes about pop out of my fucking head and I so ever sarcastically answered with, “yes, because I have had nothing to do all day” AND since I can’t drown myself in tequila at work I put my fucking face condom on and walking my happy little ass over to the dark side and stuffed my face with left over Halloween candy while I joined in the fun conversations on the dark side of the building.

For Christmas I might need a padded room, straight jacket, and a pillow to yell into. But since I can’t sleep maybe I need a new pillow to help me sleep better…or idk my mind to be busy busy, but not 15-year-old PMS teenage emotional busy. I need adult busy, work busy. UGH…life could be worse, right? Right. I made my choice to leave a job I loved for a family I loved more, because I decided to make a life, not a living. I have definitely had my moments of “what did I do?”, but the memories I have created with my family since making this decision…priceless.

Yes, I may lack sleep, be a cranky overthinking fucking bitch, but in my heart, I know I made the right decision. Even if I have my moments of needing a padded room, stuffing my face with candy, and questioning my decision. But I sit here writing this knowing it’s all worth it, especially when I see the smiles on the faces of those I love when we are making memories, sharing stories from our days, hearing the laughs, and just sitting together in the living room.

I am making a life. Day by day. Memory by memory. Twirl by twirl. Sunshine and mother fucking sparkles.

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Opening my window

I have been reflecting a lot lately. About many different things in my life. I have to constantly remind myself that things happen for a reason, most the time we have not a clue what those reasons are, but we keep moving forward whether it is with our heads held high or with them lowered to hide our eyes that show everything. I don’t know about you, but my eyes are like windows to my soul, my thoughts, my everything. My eyes literally are not my best friends. I can’t hide jack shit behind them. Even if I tried to hide my emotions across my face, my eyes be telling the truth….fuckers. They might be beautiful, but they don’t let me get away with shit!!

Maybe it is a good thing that I can’t hide my emotions, but there are times when I would really like too. I have noticed a difference in the way I am feeling though now that I don’t hold everything in until I explode like a shaken soda bottle. That is one thing I am thankful for. I used to hold everything in until I was boiling under the surface and then BOOM!!!! ugh it was ugly. Ugly tears, ugly emotion, ugly everything. But that is what happens when you have to hold it in, because you aren’t allowed to express yourself.

And now, well now I am able to express myself, all of myself. Sometimes I think that is a bad thing, until I share my spinning thoughts, and I am reminded it isn’t a bad thing to share how I am feeling. It is an amazing thing, for not only me, but for all those around me, for those that love me. I am still learning how to open up immediately instead of holding on for hours, a day, or longer, but I am getting much better. AND telling someone that loves me to push me, but to be gentle, makes all the difference.

So, there I go again getting off track, but whatever. By now you are all used too it. And if you aren’t you should be…lol… Ok so I have been reflecting right? On myself first and foremost, but also about my surroundings, things that actually affect me personally, and what is it exactly about that thing that makes me emotional or changes my mood in a flat second. I want to be aware of; is it me? Or is it something else? I keep saying I am broken, because I feel broken, like something is wrong with me, but reality, I am not broken, I have lived to make others happy so that I do not disrupt my environment for such a long time that it is all I know. And several years ago, I promised myself and my loved ones I would live each day as if tomorrow wasn’t promised. BUT then roughly a year ago I slipped back into old habits, because again, survival; don’t disrupt the environment.

Guess fucking what??? As I was reflecting the other day, I realized I am loved for who I am!!! Which yes, I have known, but when you have been broken down time and time again you often forget this. I was reminded of this during a conversation, an act, and being in his arms. I am not only loved by him, my children, but by so many, and they all love me for me, for my sunshine and sparkles, for my sailor mouth, for my humor, for being there for them, showing I care, I could go on and on.

I keep my circle small for a reason. I know who my true friends are. I know because they are the ones who love me, who don’t just say they do, and then use me. My circle is small because they have shown me in many ways I can trust them and no matter what they will always be there for me and I for them. I don’t need 400 plus friends on Facebook, because I guarantee you when I had that many the majority of them weren’t really my friends, they were just spy’s or wanted to feel important by having their friend number high. My list gets smaller, someone might get added, but I know that those on my list I can trust. When you are older you start to understand and begin to realize what is the most important. Some people mature and make mature decisions in life and others do not grow and instead make immature decisions and lose everything they wish they still had.

Life is full of choices. Choices we all make for ourselves. Choices we try to blame on others when things don’t go our way, but let’s face reality, we all know right from wrong. So, when we face a choice where we could lose it all and we choose wrong…you honestly have nobody to blame but your fucking self…grow up, own your choices, and face yourself in the mirror every day after, because you are the one the has to live with the consequences.

So, reflecting. My attitude, the way I live each day, how I respond to situations, that is all up to me, nobody else. I have noticed when my attitude gets gloomily and when I get salty. I see a pattern. Can I blame others? Maybe, but would that be fair to them? Hell fucking no. Why? Because if I haven’t been adult enough to have a conversation with them on why I got upset or salty, pissed off or walked away, that isn’t on them…it’s on me, because I did not speak up first. Sure, it would be easy to point the finger, but seriously where the fuck is that going to get me? Ummm, fucking nowhere.

When I am living life to its fullest, I also notice. When you pay attention and stop pointing the finger you really start to see the whole picture and not just the pieces that are in focus from a selfish point of view. I thought I allowed my walls to fall around me, my moat to be free of predators, but I was wrong.

My walls were down when I decided to live to the fullest years ago, then I put them back up. When I thought I let them down again I was wrong, so wrong. One of my bitches told me the other day “my walls might be down, the blinds might be open, but I haven’t opened the window yet”…well shit. More reflecting after this as you can imagine…

Reflections, choices, and life. All amazing combinations when you get the right lock and key, but until then the chain is a horrible mess of a knot, until you are ready to face the reality that you can either constantly be terrified of the negatives that might happen or live facing the sunshine glowing in the radiant positivity of what could go right.

Sunshine and mother fuckin’ sparkles…  

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FML

Laughter. It’s supposed to cure everything, but it doesn’t fix everything. Sure, it helps in the moment. It is better than letting the tears fall down my fucking cheeks…AGAIN. But here I sit. Laughed my ass off for a moment, shook my head, and walked back in the house to face the never-ending disaster.

Sweating like a fucking pig at night is wonderful. Let me tell you, NOT! But that is what happens when the air conditioner decides it wants to stop working in the middle of the summer. I just love sleeping in a pool of sweat, said no one ever! I knew I needed to change the air filter and silly me bought the wrong size. YES! Way to go…sooo shopping trip…and I have a blonde moment and can’t put the stupid thing in.

I have a lake in my kitchen. Don’t even have to drive anywhere. Let me set up my beach chair, umbrella, and lay out my towel…I just need a sun light to keep my tan going, because I don’t have skin like my siblings…

FML…things happen in three’s right…

I sound like I am a whiny little bitch right now…oh fucking well. Maybe I need to whine, maybe I need to cry, maybe I just need to yell and scream my fucking head off, because I am frustrated with a lot of different things right now…like currently my foot keeps cramping…my toes look fucked up, and I want to cry, because I am in pain, but I won’t instead I am going to write one long ass sentence whining like a baby back bitch internally laughing at myself.

I like that I am able to laugh at myself and the shit that happens in my life, because my life has been an on and off shit storm. But I am proud of myself, because I am able to handle the shit that is thrown my way. Sure, I may cry, I may get frustrated, I might need to be held tight, vent, but guess what? I am fucking human…I am not perfect and I would never want to be.

I have been through shit. Who hasn’t? but we can either let it define us or we can hold our heads high, roll with the punches, laugh, and keep on finding the light in the darkness that rolls in with the storms.

I know I have my moments when I can’t find the light in the darkness, but I have love that is my strength in my weak moments that lifts me up, gives me strength, and keeps me going.

Laughter, sunshine, and mother fucking sparkles…

BUT i am beautiful

I am beautiful.

I will never have giant tits…unless they are fake,

I might always have a mom belly,

 I have stretch marks,

 My skin is no longer “beautiful”, because of my autoimmune disease

 My curves are itty bitty.

 BUT I see myself as sexy.

I am not filtered or censored,

 What you see is what you get.

 I will never look like a model or the girls on only fans, tv, or in magazines,

BUT I am beautiful.

 You see what you get.

I am a mom.

 My stretch marks reflect nine months of three different times growing a child within me,

 I am blessed.

But I am not what men drool over on social media

 I am me.

Down to earth.

 Simple.

 Beautiful.

Real.

I am a woman who loves herself,

 I wear what I want,

 I do not care what others think,

 I will stand up for myself,

 My mouth is foul.

 I am not perfect.

 I can pay my own way.

 I love life.

 I see the light in the darkness.

 I am loved.

 I am beautiful from the inside out.

I use no filters to shine bright or show my beauty.

My skin is not perfect.

I am not a model.

BUT I am beautiful.

Strong.

I am a mother.

I shine bright and light my little world by being just me.

 I make no apologies for who I am.

 I may not have large curves or be sexy like those who are airbrushed, but I am real.

I work hard for the body I have.

I love me,

that is all that matters.

I AM BEAUTIFUL.

There are times when we judge ourselves, because of what we see on TV, social media, or in person. But this is life. This is how we have lived for a long time. First it was Barbie’s body, then it was the models we saw in the magazines. We continue to grow up and still compare ourselves, even though we know we shouldn’t and know that we are beautiful in our ways. Our parents, family, and friends can tell us time and time again that we are gorgeous and beautiful, and we can tell ourselves, but if we aren’t strong enough to believe it, we will always compare ourselves. If we are strong enough will we believe it? Maybe on certain days, but we are human and we have our faults and bad days. Those bad days no matter how much we tell ourselves we are beautiful or strong we will not feel it. It is just part of life.

I love who I am. I love my personality, my smile, my humor, just everything about me. Do I have faults? fuck yes. But we all do. I am a firm believer that your personality makes you radiate from the inside out. We can be drop dead gorgeous, but if we are ugly on the inside, we shine ugly on the outside.

Are there things I hate about myself? Of course. I hate what my autoimmune disease has done to my body. It has changed my self confidence tremendously. This is something I have realized a lot lately. I hate that about myself. My bestie told me I have the biggest balls she has ever seen…lmao. But lately I feel I have lost that about myself. I feel weak. It is difficult for me to admit that, because I have come such a long way the last several years. The way my disease has changed my body has affected me more that I realized.

There are things I am still working on. I have said them in previous posts. My walls. They are definitely getting smaller which I am so proud of, you have no idea. And my moat…well the prey has left and now you can relax on a float while working on your tan. So, I am strong in parts of my little world and weak in others. Now if I could just be strong in all of my little world, I would be unstoppable.

I am beautiful. I am fucking beautiful. I love me. I am blessed. I have been through hell and back. I am lucky to be alive right now. I almost died. I am a survivor. I may hate parts of my body, but I am beautiful. I shine bright. I see past the darkness. I do not make apologies for who I am. I might be weak in areas of my life and strong in others, but I am working on myself always for the better, because I want to continue to a beautiful mother, woman, and role model.

We may always compare ourselves to those we see on TV, in magazines, or on social media, unfortunately that’s life. It’s how we grew up. WE are all beautiful in our own unique ways. Just because we don’t see ourselves as a goddess in our own eyes doesn’t mean someone else doesn’t. Love yourself always. You are BEAUTIFUL.

Sunshine and sparkles.  

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Sleepless nights

I recently had to revisit my past. It wasn’t easy at all. Emotions were brought up that I had forgotten. Thoughts and memories that I had hidden in the back of my mind came rushing back. Sleepless nights. Tossing and turning. Fears. The sounds. Tears would slide down my cheeks as I cried myself silently to sleep. I felt broken all over again.

It took me years to rebuild myself. Fear of dark corners, hotels, pillows and blankets over my face, and people thinking I was lying about my story. There are times when the PTSD still hits out of nowhere and rocks me to the core. Even though it’s been almost 20 years. An emotional roller coaster, one that took everything I wanted, one that I allowed to control me for longer than I should have, but even if it happened now, I would probably be the same emotional mess, just older, stronger, and able to handle it a little different.

But as I was rebuilding myself from a horrible event, I never thought I would face I was facing another battle. Ugh…what in the hell…I felt as though I was living in hell. I kept asking myself what I did to deserve the things I was going through. I repeated over and over again that there is a reason for everything…this seemed to help me get through. Even if I didn’t understand it at the time.

I was a survivor. For some reason I just kept pushing through all the shit, the hell, the pain, and ended up stronger every single time. Still wasn’t sure why.

More hell. Fuck my life. But I will survive. I have time and time again. This was a different kind of hell though. I lost friends. I lost people that I thought cared about me, that I cared about. People lied to my face constantly.  

Eye openers were happening all around me, but I was not paying attention. Instead I decided to ignore all the signs that I should have paid attention too and kept telling myself things would change. Of course, they did not change, they got worse.

As things seemed to get worse, I grew stronger, which did not help. I began to become independent and realized my worth. This was great for me, but felt like a threat in my environment. I had to make decisions. Stay strong, grow stronger or go back into my shell and hide everything I felt.

At this point I had some amazing people that helped me stay strong and keep pushing myself to heal and stay positive. And this time I was ready to see to all the red flags. I could see them like neon signs. They were bright, flashing, in my face telling me to pay attention for my own benefit.

I was finally this strong, beautiful, confident woman. I felt unstoppable, but I still had moments of weakness. Who does not have those moments? We all do. We are human. Not a single one of us is perfect. I know some people hide their emotions and think that it is for the best, but I am not the person that can hide. I wear them on the outside. Everyone can see them. I used to hate that, but now I see it as a strength. I am not able to hide anymore. I am called out on my bluff when I do try. This was challenging for me and honestly still is, but it is something I am still working on.

I like that I am able to admit I am not perfect, that I have things I am still working on in life even at the age of 37. I have had to walk on eggshells, I have had to have plans I never thought I would, I have had to pretend I was okay when I was not, I have swallowed more feelings than I care to admit, I have PTSD, and I am still learning to be open and trust easily, but it is difficult to trust and be open for me. I have been open and trusted easily and it hurt me big time. I told myself I will never open up again immediately, that I will slowly open up as I learn to trust the people in my life. I closed doors, closed up, built giant walls. But I am learning how to open up again, to let my walls down. I am doing well, but still not as well as I would like.

As I reflect on my past, I realize I am the way I am for many different reasons. There are things I never thought I would face in life when I was younger, but I faced them, I survived. Because I am a survivor, I have been able to help others, inspire them with my life experiences, and show people that no matter what you go through you can get through it while shining bright.

As a teenager I saw my life going a whole different direction, but it did not. I am not living where I thought I would, I do not have the career I thought I was going to have, I do not have the life I thought I would, but right now, in this current moment I can say I am happy. That even though I would never want to go through the things I have faced again, I am happy that I have, because my experiences have made me who I am, and have allowed me to have things in my life that I did not think I would, and this makes me okay with the pain, the hurt, and the memories.  

Fear. It is one of those funny things. It can sometimes hold us back or make us do things we regret. My fear is if I let my walls down any further, I will regret it, because I am afraid of scaring people away. I have been told I will not, but my past tells me otherwise.

I need to stop being afraid of getting hurt and let those that care in. I have let my walls start to fall, as they fall, I am letting more out, but there is still hesitation, and the hesitation is a weakness I hope to overcome soon, because I have no reason to be afraid anymore. I have things I need to work on, which I am, and I am still learning, but life is a continuous lesson. I hope that as I continue to learn throughout my life that I will continue to grow as a person.

I am strong, but still weak. I still have issues. Remember nobody is perfect. We all have things we stare at, but refuse to face. We all have fears that scare us beyond belief, but we hope to get past them one day. We all worry about small things we have no control over. We have all survived some kind of event in our lives that changed us in ways we never thought possible.

 It is up to us on whether or not to let these things control us and our life, or whether we take our life into our hands and take control of it. I decided to take control.

I survived the things I have for a reason. I still do not understand the reason for all that I have gone through, but I am finally okay with that. I have realized that the things I do understand I survived them, because I needed to go through them to help others.

Life is what we make it. We have the power. No matter what I go through I continue to stay strong and shine bright. I hope that I can pass that onto my children. I hope that they see me as a role model, someone they can look up too, and know that even when things get tough there is always a reason, one they may not have the answer to immediately, but that they will be okay and that they always have me to help them get through it and to help them stay positive.  

Revisiting the past was difficult. I lost nights of sleep, felt weak, but being able to reflect and share has helped me see just how far I have come in life. The tears slid down my cheeks, covered my pillow, as I shook with more emotion than I could handle I was held tight. In this moment I knew I didn’t have to be strong alone. I have an amazing support system. When we go through tough times, feel weak, sometimes we need extra strength. We need to be able to lean on those who care about us most. Never be afraid to lean.

Sunshine and Sparkles.

pants on fire

I need some type of shield, protection, weapon, something that gives me a signal when a douche bag is lying to me. I mean seriously!! I should know, or you would think I would. I can always tell when my children are lying to me, but when it comes to asshole fucktards it is like I have fallen down a flight of stairs and hit my head so hard it turned me stupid!!

I have a huge heart. I trust too easy. And because of this I get destroyed like cake shoved in someone’s face on their birthday. Food fight!!! Let’s see how much we can play … yeah, I say fuck that noise…

Ever notice how when a person lies to you somehow you get blamed? Like wtf? Like for real. And somehow those type of people that lay blame on everyone else are never to blame…but if you are observant, don’t fall for their bullshit, and see the toxicity you notice small truths start to surface. Then bigger ones. Soon you have this huge web full of tangled lies that they spun all because they cannot be honest and always have to point the finger in another direction. The best part is when they realize you know the truth.

Now you have the control. It is seriously a fucking game and we are adults…I do not understand nor will I never. Grow a fucking pair. Put your big girl panties on and just be honest. Is it really that difficult? They tell you your friendship will always be the same, nothing is ever going to change, they can’t lose you…word vomit…more lies…. because let’s get real they don’t know how to tell the truth and they never will. Everything is going to change. You will probably talk less, see them less, lose other friends, and the list just continues. It will be painful.

Watch me grow, watch me smile, watch me live my happy full life, while you sit there miserable with yours. The difference? I am not afraid to admit the truth about my life, my fuck ups. I know I walk on the cliffs edge at times. But I am not afraid to admit when I screw up, when I do something wrong, when my mood flat out sucks ass, or when I just need a moment. I have been hurt over and over, as well as hurt others. Does it suck? Of course. But I learned.

My lesson, I am a mother fucking rockstar, who is surrounded by family and friends. My circle is small which is perfect. I would be silly to say I have learned all that I am going to about lies and trust, but I know I haven’t, because I am too kind and still trust too easy. I have built my walls high with a moat full of predators to keep me safe from all the weak toxic waste that lurks in the shadows. Darkness may enter here and there at different points of our lives, but we decide whether we want to allow that darkness to control us or if we want to control it. Be the light that shines through.