Just More Proof that "Normal" does not exist...

What an appropriate lesson to be reiterated on Christmas Eve...

I received my annual letter from my friend, Chris, whom I went to high school with, and in all honesty, wasn't on MY radar too often.

He and I had a class together in the 10th grade. He's highly intelligent, extremely detailed oriented and probably one of the most insightful people I know.

He's also autistic. I'm not to sure the details or limitations of his disability other than what I've observed and what he has told me.

I do know that he was in a mix of "normal" classes and special education classes in high school. I do know that he was EXTREMELY literal. If the teacher were busy, and he needed help and asked, the teacher would say, "just a minute" and from there, Chris would stare at the clock like it held the truth to life in it and time EXACTLY one minute, and then ask again.

Suffice to say, most kids in high school are assholes. Especially the privileged little shits I went to high school with who drove the BMW's that daddy bought for them and thought it was highly entertaining to tease and torture Chris.

I did what I could to try and be a friend to him and defend him in our 10th grade history class. I always made sure he was my partner for our group work. I went to his birthday party at the arcade and gave him an art set because he was constantly drawing and dreaming of being a cartoonist and showing me his work.

I danced with him at Prom and took a picture with him, to which his mother told me he had pinned up next to his bed.

To me, these weren't extraordinary acts....just DECENT acts. What everyone should have been doing. But it meant something to him and that is humbling. To know that even after all these years, he still writes me and considers me a good friend.

Well I just got his Christmas letter to which he wrote:

In addition to the comics, I will start to read a few books which I think may offer me a step closer to be social. I have been trying to improve my vocabulary that might come in useful when I want to communicate with others, because most of my conversations are about movies and video games. Which is kinda weird. My mother, on the other hand, doesn't want me to use the vocabulary terms since they are strange. She also wants me to play Special Olympics when I move back to Texas, and that's what worries me, because I want to move out on my own and make decisions for myself. This is how I see the world of people with disabilities: Even if people are highly functional and have a learning disability, Normal people will continue to treat them differently, whether it is people they are working for at a company, people that are tutoring them about something they want to learn about, or people they are taking on a date.

The dating part is the main issue. I hope that one day, when I move back to Texas, I will find a girlfriend. I also feel that when I am disabled/high functioning, I'm not free to make my own choices. I may not have the privaledge to drive a car. People will tell me what to participate in, who I should hang out with or date, and how I should live my life. Sometimes I feel as if I'm trapped in a prison where normal people will get to do those things. I would give anything to live a normal life. Hopefully, getting a driver's license, getting a better job, going through college, getting a house/apartment, finding a girlfriend and hoping one day I will marry her and have kids, and live a better life until the day I die.

That is my story. I hope you understand what I'm going through. Enjoy the rest of your Christmas and I hope to see you again soon when I move back to Texas.

Yours Truly, Chris

He would be shocked how similar we feel. Everyone has their own "personal prison" that they dream of breaking out of to live a better life.
I do understand your story, Chris. I do.
Thank you for being my friend.

He always surprises me at how eloquently he can put things...which sadly, means I was one of those people holding the walls up in HIS prison.

Life Lesson: Never underestimate someone. Normal does not exist.

I love when that happens :D

My dreaded part of the day..."getting ready for bed."

I haaaaaaate taking out my contacts and then from there, taking off my make-up and washing my face all clean.

It takes a good ten minutes to do.

And I know it sounds ridiculous and you're thinking, "what's the big fucking deal?"

But it's just TEDIOUS. When I'm so exhausted and just READY TO GO TO BED RIGHT NOW, nothing is worse than dealing with that. Rubbing my eyes with white tissues that become smeared and black with my "beauty."

But HURRAH! A happy surprise...I didn't wear makeup today!

so I can just go to bed!

I LOVE when that happens :D

Nothin' like smelling like Baby Barf to make a girl feel HOT.

o_O

What's wrong with me?

Hello Depression...It's been a while.

I'm not talking about the "feeling a little blue" or having an "off week."

I'm talking about full blown depression that makes EVERYTHING exhausting.
That makes you avoid the phone and calling the people you love because you just don't have the energy to pretend everything is ok.

I'm talking about the kind of depression that makes 1pm feel like 6am in the morning and you're just so so tired and question if you can even get out of bed that day.

The kind of depression that has opened that dark, dark place in your mind and now that demon bitch who use to rule your life is stomping around inside your brain continually kicking your ass, and you're just so tired and you don't know if you can keep fighting her.

My mom, frantic, called an emergency session with my therapist tonight.
So I guess I'm going to that.

The Obvious Lesson...

well on night two of my new found love for baths, I learned an important, but rather obvious lesson.

I felt SUPER productive because I got a load of laundry done.
I went into the bathroom and started running my bath and felt the water before I put the drain stopper in and it was wonderful and steaming hot, just like I like it.

Well I decided to keep the productivity going, and went into my closet (where my washer and dryer are) to start another load of laundry. Once I got that going, I felt like my hot bath was MUCH deserved....I jumped right in only to discover BRRRRRRRRR....the hot water was going to the washing machine and not my relaxing bath.

I promptly jumped out of there and into some warm sweats and now I'm hiding under my covers NOT FEELING RELAXED.

Epic Fail.

Well now I know. Laundry + Baths do not mix.

Crazy Mood Swing Girl.

Well I've been on break from school for almost a week now.

The adjustment hasn't been going so well to say the least...

I'm SO use to going two trillion miles a second that I've truly forgotten how to relax. How to slow down and just be.

And it's been pretty convenient as a way to NOT deal with uncomfortable/sad/angry feelings I didn't realize were fostering in me.

I knew on some level, but I didn't realize the extent of them as this week I transformed into "CRAZY MOOD SWING GIRL" (eh. Sorry to David)

Well all those pent up feelings have been taking me for a wild ride and most of all...the complete and utter exhaustion has hit me.

I didn't realize how TIRED I was! I'm use to going to school all morning, thinking, thinking, going, going, then off to work, which caring for two babies and keeping the house running and spotless and making two neurotic parents happy all the time is Herculean in and of itself...and then I'd come home and do hours of homework/taking care of my own apartment, etc.

Now that I just have the work thing going on, I come home and I'm like a cranky old goose flapping my wings and crashing about my apartment with my feathers all ruffled. I go from anger, to sadness, to happiness and back. And I was just so restless! I didn't know what to do and the obvious thing, "SLEEP" comes to mind, but I've gotten to where I feel guilty for sleeping!
Like it's a luxury I can't afford and I'm being greedy and gluttonous and lazy and unproductive if I sleep!

So tonight I'm saying "PFFFT." to it all.

I had a really good therapy session.
I saw my good friend, Brittany.

I came home and took a long, relaxing bubble bath and read a book I've been wanting to read for a while but never had the time...I actually read for pleasure again!

It was lovely! and it felt GOOD.

And the content of the book is all about channeling what we all know inherently from the Non-Physical World (where we all have come from) but that we now have forgotten and blocked through the physical world's distractions and manifestations.

It's all about how to channel your positive energy to take the power and create your desired reality.

I really believe we're capable of doing that, and from here on out, I WILL focus on doing just that.

I'm going to attempt to start meditating. I'm going to do something good for myself everyday and most of all, I'M GOING TO SLEEP AND NOT FEEL GUILTY FOR IT!

So, I'm going to end this blog post and get off of here so I can put on my nice warm sheets from the dryer and go to bed.

I'm so damn tired.

Identity Crisis

So I go to a pretty common grocery store that is close to my apartment and I use my Tom Thumb card that gives me little discounts on each item I buy.

Well I've noticed, that everytime I give it to them, they swipe it, I get the discount and carry out my transaction and they always, always say,
"Thank you Ms. Swisher, have a good day."

...How nice of them, except my name ISN'T "Amy Swisher" as it says on my receipt.

So I'm thinking, the card must be assigned to an Amy Swisher because it only happens there and it's always her name.

hmmm, I wonder who this Amy Swisher person is?

I haven't come clean about it to the store because it's sort of fun being someone else while I grocery shop.
Brings a little mystery and excitement into my simple little life.

:-p

UGH.

You know it may be time to go to bed when you're so tired you accidently attempt to gouge your own eyes out...
I just tried to take out the contacts that I never put in today.

I wore my glasses today. -_-

doh.

Nursing School

Tomorrow is the day that I am applying to nursing school.
I finally received my official transcripts in the mail, so that I can submit them to the the Office of Records and let the people who choose my fate (aka. the school of nursing board members) have access to "my identity." (aka. my grades.)

It's just such a limited and narrow view of who I am though.
But in this dirty business called Nursing School, it is ALL that counts.

My grades. It shows my ability to focus and navigate the world of college...which is impressive in that it show that I am adaptable. But most people are.


But really? Grades: They're not an accurate gauge of "what kind of nurse I will be."

Today while I was at work, I had a crystal clear moment of exactly "what kind of nurse I will be" as I was cradling one of those precious babies that I love so so much...as I was caring for the family who I spend more time with than my own family. The family who comes to me to ask "where something is" because I'm the one that moved it there and keeps things clean and orderly. Making the babies laugh and when they're so upset or won't sleep, soothing them in my own special way that works even when their own mother can't get them to calm down.

They NEED me. And it's such a good feeling...but even more so, I NEED them.

I think back to when it all started. The suffocating, all consuming self-loathing.

I was 13 the first time I truly contemplated suicide.

I sat in my parents sunny living room...right in the center patch of sunlight that always illuminated one square area on the carpet as light shone through the window.

I sat there because I was cold and just wanted to feel the warmth and light on my skin. I sat there holding bottles of pills...my 13 year old mind trying to calculate what does would "do the job."

Why you ask? Because by 13 I knew that the world truly did not make sense and so far, it had dished out more pain and ugliness than my sensitive heart could stand.
It had already taught me that great injustice would prevail and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. It took away from little brother's childhood and cast a dark shadow over the entire family.

And then? The doctors said it was starting to happen to me.

So what's a 13 year old to do when she daily sees her potential future in her deteriorating brother? Sees her parent's incremental shattering as they try desperately to hold the pieces together?

She implodes.

However, the implosion doesn't completely happen for years later...not until the 13 year old makes through high school and gets to college. How did I make it?
I took care of him.
I devoted my entire adolescence to taking care of him and others.

At 16, my daily schedule consisted of waking up at 4:30am. Getting myself ready for school. Then, waking him, getting his breakfast made and brought upstairs to him. Dressing him. Helping him shave and with his hygiene. Getting his socks and shoes on. Down the stairs. Our bags packed. Loaded into the van. Wheel chair in the back. Get us to school by 6:00am for band practice. Transfer him from his manual chair to his electric chair which we stored at the school in a locked closet that I had the key to. Be done with practice by 8:00am. half a day of school and then leave for either the hospital or nursing home where I had an internship and worked half a day there taking care of residents and patients (bathing, dressing, feeding, shaving. etc.) 4:00 pm Rush back to school. Pick him up and take him home. Get him upstairs and situated with a snack and then rush off to my part-time job where I worked in a childcare taking care of little kids. Get home by 10 pm.

Repeat.

I had NO TIME to think about myself or to contemplate the escalating and building self contempt that was infecting my body and mind like a tumor.
Sub-consciously I knew it was there. I welcomed it and feared it all at the same time.

Then college comes. It all stops. I have no one to take care of but myself. The girl I hate more than anything and KABOOOOOM!

I implode. The next 3 years is the picture of a girl making up for years of potential self destruction time. She goes from 0 to 60 in a matter of nano-seconds.

And I did it well. I was so successful in fact that I nearly destroyed my life several times over.

And now I've come out of it on the other side...For a multitude of reasons, but I know a big reason is due to those babies. That family.
They needed me. But I needed them more.

I need to be a nurse.

Why? Because taking care of others is the only thing that keeps me sane. Keeps me centered. Makes me happy.

Makes me feel like I can do SOMETHING good in a world that isn't good.

I wish the school of nursing board members knew that.
But since my "precious" transcripts don't tell that story...I must go study.

I have finals this week.
MY FATE RESTS IN MY GRADES!
ah!

Let the Spirit Read...

So I just wanted to share these short stories from one of my favorite authors, the Lebanese prophet, Khalil Gibran.

The first one reminds me that there must be some sort of "bigger picture." I try not to feel like the ant who can only see exactly what is around me...

The three ants

Three ants met on the nose of a man who was lying asleep in the sun. And after they had saluted one another, each according to the custom of his tribe, they stood there conversing.

The first and said, “These hills and plains are the most barren I have known. I have searched all day for a grain of some sort, and there is none to be found.”

Said the second ant, “I too have found nothing, though I have visited every nook and glade. This is, I believe, what my people call the soft, moving land where nothing grows.”

Then the third ant raised his head and said, “My friends, we are standing now on the nose of the Supreme Ant, the mighty and infinite Ant, whose body is so great that we cannot see it, whose shadow is so vast that we cannot trace it, whose voice is so loud that we cannot hear it; and He is omnipresent.”

When the third ant spoke thus the other ants looked at each other and laughed.

At that moment the man moved and in his sleep raised his hand and scratched his nose, and the three ants were crushed.

This one is probably my favorite. It is a lesson that sadly, our culture has failed to teach our souls... it is my goal today to look at something considered conventionally "ugly" and see the beauty within.

Beauty and Ugliness

Upon a day Beauty and Ugliness met on the shore of a sea. And they said to one another, "Let us bathe in the sea". They disrobed and swam in the waters. And after a while Ugliness came back to the shore and garmented herself with the garments of Beauty and walked his way. And Beauty too came out of the sea, and found not her rainment, and she was too shy to be naked, therefore she dressed herself with the raiment of Ugliness. And Beauty walked her way... And to this very day men and women mistake the one for the other. Yet there are some who have beheld the face of Beauty, and know her not withstanding her garments.

This one is a mind trip. But reflects how I feel a lot of the time. My mind doesn't click the way most peoples' minds. I see and think about things that most do not. Is there something wrong with that, world?! HMM? They like to think yes...

The Eye

Said the Eye one day, “I see beyond these valleys a mountain veiled with blue mist. Is it not beautiful?”

The Ear listened, and after listening intently awhile, said, “But where is any mountain? I do not hear.”

Then the Hand spoke and said, “I am trying in vain to feel it or touch it, and I can find no mountain.”

And the Nose said, “There is no mountain, I cannot smell it.”

Then the Eye turned the other way, and they all began to talk together about the Eye's strange delusion. And they said, “Something must be the matter with the Eye.”

<3 Thank you for these Beautiful Words. <3

Tonight I was driving around a few towns over on a way to an appointment, and passed a shopping center surrounded by trees absolutely twinkling in white Christmas lights...it looked so magical!

And I had the Christmas station tuned in on the radio listening to christmas music, and Josh Grobin's "O Holy Night" came on and he sounded so beautiful and sang about the birth of Christ so passionately, that it made my heart ache a little.

Sometimes, I really genuinely wish I could believe in Jesus Christ.
It's such a lovely concept...

Obligation

Well, it was SO good to be back at work today after surviving marathon family time over Thanksgiving week.
The babies were beyond happy to see me...it was pretty cute...a girl will never know love like that of a little man who pees and poops on you and absolutely squeals in delight at the mere sight of you! haha, seriously, it makes me heart swell!

But along with being away from work comes marathon catch up time. I had to attempt to squeeze everything I do on the weekends over a two day period into one and came pretty damn close...I got all the sheets changed, and literally did a million loads of laundry. When I started, I was standing in a laundry mountain in their laundry room. The dad walked in and shuttered at the sight of it and just shook his head, ha.
But I didn't get it ALL done, so sorry to Sharon for having to finish it up tomorrow! But I really tried! haha

And then there was all the other cleaning along with giving the boys much needed "Heather time." They were both very clingy today, especially E.

Well my boss gave me my pick between one of her old Prada bags or a Michael Kors bag. Apparently it's a really big deal...but meh. The materialism and name brand stuff just doesn't matter to me.
I chose the Michael Kors bag because it was cuter than the Prada one, but honestly, it's just not my style. However, I'll have to carry it for a little while to show my appreciation becaue it would be rude not to.
*sigh* oh Obligation, you're a mean bitch.
heh.

What do you have to say??

Oh look at that little ANGEL! ha, that is my 4 lb maltese, Izzy (Isabella) and since we're out of town for Thanksgiving, she is currently in the dog kennel...hopefully having the time of her little doggy life.

She's never stayed in a dog kennel before, nor is she use to other dogs...so I'm guessing she's freaking out right about now.

For some reason, when I think about it, I picture the scene from "Lady in the Tramp" where Lady is put into a dog pound after leading a pampered little doggy life and has no idea what is going on, or what it is about. And then, the other "street smart" dogs who have been around the block talk to her and tell her "how it all works."

I wonder if that is going on with Izzy?! Well hopefully, when I get her back, she won't be TOO gangsta. Thug dog. She's a tough girl.
:-p

ps.- I want to go home. i.e.- my apartment!

So I'm going out of town with my family for Thanksgiving...an extended family I don't really know and have seen a handful of times over the years. Yet, they all know about "my history."

They all know that I'm now recovered and doing well, but the sick part of me is throwing a bitch fit! she's taunting me and screaming, "stupid, girl. They'll take one look at you and never believe you could have been 'that sick' because you're so HEALTHY looking now. you look so NORMAL."

why are "healthy" and "normal" such taboo words in the twisted hell that is an eating disorder??

But it's true. I've always had this complex though...because when i was my sickest, I was an extreme bulimic who was on the lower end of my "heatlhy weight range."
So when people looked at me off the street, they just thought I was a thin, normal girl. They didn't see that I was literally walking death who led the most fucked up life ever.

and it BUGGED me!!! It drove me crazy over the years that I never "looked" as sick as I really was.

Now I don't want to be that sick girl anymore, and I've taken many positive steps to not be her anymore, but the old demons are screeching around in my head.
I feel like I have "to prove something" to these strangers known as my extended family who's eyes will automatically shift up and down my body in a judgmental way.

Shut up "sick Heather."
I hate you.

eh. It was just one of those days.

:(

*Locks the doors*

So thanks to my boyfriend, I have a new obsession.

Criminal Minds.

The greatest, most psychological show EVER.

It's about a Behavioral Analysis Unit (or BAU for short. heh.) within the FBI who get these crazy cases that no normal investigator can solve...and then they brilliantly create a profile on the guy and solve it.

It's pretty damn entertaining and I've been watching it non stop on my laptop...

However, it's making me increasingly paranoid.
I know that a twisted violent psychopath is a pretty rare thing in the world, but after watching episode after episode, it seems like EVERYone you meet could be "out to get you."

And just to showcase that my paranoia isn't completely unfounded, I got in my school email today crime bulletins relaying that students have been punched in the face/ had a gun held to them and robbed around campus the past two days and once a couple of weeks ago. All by either African American males in twos and threes or Hispanics.

*LOCKS THE DOORS*

My bed is so safe and warm.... I don't want to get out of it.

Sometimes...I feel so unpretty.

*sigh*

WARNING: This is what happens when you watch too much HGTV...

Well I said in my last post that I wanted to get the sheer fabric panels for curtains over my living room blinds, and I did! Along with some new red couch pillows...
hehe LOOK!

tried to capture the "full view"
One of my new pillows! Her twin lives on the other end of the couch >_<

Pretty curtains...they're a nice dark gold color and look sort of girly and romantic (which is good considering, I'm a girl who loves romance. heh) But they still let in a lot of light.

Well I think my skills are evident. Now all there is left to do is sit back and wait for HGTV to come-a-knockin' and give me my own design show.
:-p

Well, David and Moxie officially took off today. He left for Montana...and from there he'll either go to A.) California B.) Cabo C.) Aruba or D.) stay in Montana.

I swear, I don't even try to keep up with it anymore, because the options can change daily. All I know is that they're gone now and my perfect apartment for one is now feeling like a mansion after sharing it for two months with those two.

I just got done "de-dogging" it. heh.

I vacuumed, mopped, scrubbed, sanitized every surface, de-furred the couch, did loads of laundry and put everything back in its place.

I feel calmer now.
But I miss them...even though they're stinky!

I think I'm going to get sheer floor length panels of fabric to put over my sliding glass blinds in my living room. That was just a random blurb that flashed through my head...so I thought I'd share it with everyone out there in cyber-land. >_<

Happy Birthday to Me.

My ONE YEAR sobriety is in 5 mins!

One year.

One year without drugs or alcohol.

I'm the chameleon. I've transformed myself once again and somehow managed to come back through the other side.

A year ago I was recovering from alcohol poisoning...again.

I was waking up in some strange hospital...again.

I was told I'd been on the ground passed out in front of a bar I didn't know I'd gone into. I remember I was just going to a movie with a "friend" that night.

Then the next thing I know, I'm waking up the next morning at some hospital where I was admitted with a blood alcohol level of a near lethal level. Some movie I saw, eh?

Literally the weekend before that? I also had alcohol poisoning, was raped...woke up in bed with a guy from fucking AA of all places...he was completely sober. I had about four liters of wine pumping through me. Spent three days perpetually blacked out and finally came to in the woods behind my parents house with no shoes on binging and purging.

A month before that? I was in the ICU on life support. Suicide attempt. Massive overdose.

I'm 23. I've been to the darker side of life and back.

I'm now exploring this confounded thing called the light. love. stability. laughter. life.

So far, it's exhilarating on this side. A bit lonely...but I choose this over the waking death I walked in for years.

JOKE TIME!

I'm studying for a chemistry test I have tomorrow...in honor I present:

"Silver walks into a bar and sees Gold sitting there having a drink. He shouts out, "A-u! What are you doing here?"
heheheHARHARHARhohoho

:-/

Procrastination...

HEHEHEHEHEHEEHE!

I loooooooooove Jack in the Box commercials.

What are People Thinking??

Well I've been working in childcare for years now. And before I was actually old enough to change a diaper, I was trying to change my baby brother's diapers while still wearing diapers myself! My baby dolls were the best cared for in all of the US, dangit! I rocked them and fed them and sang to them and took them for little baby doll walks in my little baby doll stroller. Suffice to say, I love kids and really enjoy working in the field.

But I HATE HATE HATE it when parents think they can just completely take advantage of you because they are the dictator boss and you're just "the babysitter" or something and they can "get away with it."

I've found my nanny jobs through a couple different websites that match nannies with a family, and one of them always sends me emails with available jobs in my area. Even though I'm "happily employed" at the moment (for the most part...it has it weeks.) I still read the listings just out of curiosity. And I'm SO SICK of seeing people who are asking RIDICULOUS things for far less than minimum wage a week. For example, the most recent one I got was from a single mom asking for someone to work Mon-Fri 8:00am- 4:30pm caring for her baby in that person's home for a measly 100-150 bucks a week....um, lady? That's around 43 hours a week. Overtime for most corporate run businesses, which would entail time a half pay, which would also entail a guaranteed minimum hourly wage as deemed by the state. That woman is wanting to pay AT BEST $3.40/hour.

I think people think it "sounds a lot more than it really is" if they just put the whole "whopping" weekly total down. ooooooo, a tantalizing $150 a week to work your ass off at a full time job. It's not daycare people. If you want daycare prices, put your kid in daycare. If you want a nanny, pay us a livable wage! sheesh. Seriously, what are people thinking??

Hmm...I should show my current boss this little rant :-p
She's borderline ridiculous with how she pays me...good thing I'm thrifty!
Seriously, my job would be perfect if it weren't for the parents. heh.

Hi, I'm Paranoid, nice to meet you.

*shifts eyes around suspiciously*
I'm working late tonight, on Thursday, my usual day off. I don't really mind...if anything, it's nice because when I work late I always "get a jump" on things I usually have to do the next day while juggling the babies and time constraints, so it makes my tomorrows easier. ^_^
I made a ton of bottles so the other nanny won't have to worry about that and hopefully, that will make her day a little easier, and then I always do my employers' sheets on Fridays. So I decided to do them tonight. I went in there and noticed how impeccably the bed was made...like tight, "hospital corners" and everything tucked in perfectly. Well then I started to peel off the sheets and noticed they were a different set than I put on last week.
Now, in all actuality, maybe they just wanted a different set of sheets? and that's all there is to it. But the PARANOID side of me goes, "oh they asked the cleaning lady to start doing the sheets, because they don't like the way I do it."

And then I get angry in my head. Then I realize I'm being ridiculous. But the people I work for are so ANTI-communication...if something like that were bothering them, they wouldn't say anything and just act all passive aggressive.

However, I just got done with their sheets, and I have to say...I make a pretty good bed! So I'll just chalk it up to they wanted new sheets.
Man. I wish I had someone to wash and clean my sheets and make up my bed everyday. :-p

What's Your Secret?

So tonight, my boyfriend and I went to see Frank Warren, the author and creator of Post Secret speak. It was very powerful and intense.

The entire room was like a raw nerve wrapped in warmth because we were all feeling this way.

He began his talk by talking about why and how he created Post Secret and then showed some of the secrets that never made it to publication due to various reasons, but they were all so powerful, and some utterly hilarious.

I found it interesting when he said that he's often asked in interviews "how he deals with secrets confessing crimes/murders."

He said that No, he in fact, hardly ever gets those kind of secrets out of the millions he receives...instead, he gets thousands about self harm, self destruction, suicide.

How interesting it is that the reality of our society is not reflected in the mainstream of our society. On the news, you don't hear about Bob's crippling depression, Mary's cutting, Sally's suicide attempt.
Instead, you hear about "this crime, that crime, oh the world is oh so terrible a place, think of the children!"

But as Frank validated, that hardly comprises our world. (and he would know. He's the secret keeper after all.)

Then at the end of his discussion, he opened the mics up to the audience and I was literally brought to tears by the sheer vulnerability exhibited in a room of hundreds!

Especially when this one girl went up there. I couldn't see her very well...I just heard her shaking voice as she said,
"I know everyone says that it is better to have a few good friends than to be popular. But I don't have either and I'm so lonely."

So this is to you, mystery girl...a hug I wish I could give you. I admire you for bearing your soul to a roomful of strangers who in actuality, probably all feel as you do. I get so lonely too.

PS- this is to David because I know you know secretly read my blog but don't want me to know...thank you for sharing the evening and experience with me. I wasn't lonely tonight. <3

I fell for the great American Dream, female version, hook, line, and sinker.

I, as many young women do, honest to god believed that once I just "lost a few pounds", somehow I would suddenly be a New You. I would have Ken-doll men chasing my thin legs down with bouquets of flowers on the street, I would become rich and famous and glamorous and lose my freckles and become blonde and five foot ten. I would wear cool quasi-intellectual glasses and a man's oxford shirt in a sunny New York flat and sip coffee and say Mmmm and fold my paper neatly and He would come up behind me and look at me with an adoring gaze. I would swing sexily into my red coupe, and the wind would blow through my hair as I drove into some great big city, stepping off the elevator and striding (with a feminine but authoritative step) into my office where everyone would be impresed with my every feminine but authoritative word. Yes, indeed, as soon as I left my hometown and lost a few pounds. --Wasted


It is so hard to be a woman.

There is this girl who is in my chemistry class with me. She is perfect. Perfect in the "Americanized culture that is shoved down your throat since birth" type perfect. Full, beautiful long blonde hair. Pretty face, thin, toned body with curves in all the right places, big boobs. Great tan. Manicured nails (fingers AND toes) designer everything...always in workout stuff, so I know she works out a lot. (and her body is also an indication of that) and she utterly fascinates me.


I guess I still have it in my head that her life MUST be so much more glamorous than mine... becuase she has literally made it a full time job of hers to physically groom, and primp, and perfect herself.

I mean...I know what that kind of upkeep is like! I've done it before. (it's exhausting. Not to mention unfulfilling.)
I noticed today that she had a HUGE engagement ring on. So I asked her about it, and she smiled and said, yes, that her fiance of three years asked her. I asked what he did for a living, and she said he was a pharmicist. (oh that explains it.)


I could have been "part of that life." I know I'm pretty. Not PERFECT pretty...it would take a lot of "work" to get myself to that "level." A boob job. Strict diet/excercise regime, hair extensions, tanning, nails, labels. I have the potential to be like her.


Would I be happier? No. I wouldn't be. I know that now...sometimes my mind tries to trick me and make me think otherwise.
But I'm me...a girl who's thighs jiggle, and curls go flat after walking around campus for too long (damn humidity!), and who eats peanut butter straight from the jar, and has goals and is actively working towards them, and who is independent, who has too much anxiety, who has thoughts she's afraid to share with others because I'm secretly afraid I'm crazy, who loves too hard, and smiles a lot, and sings loudly in the shower, and works a job where I'm perpetually covered in spit up/and/or/ poop (haha I love those babies though) and goes weeks without shaving my legs because my boyfriend doesn't care and I'm lazy.

I guess I'm just too busy to be "perfect."
Sorry girl in my chemistry class, no time in my schedule to fit in 4+ hours a day into my physical looks... you have fun with that.

However, I understand the appeal of it all. Today I was talking to B about it, and she said that if she had the opportunity, she would totally have a sugar daddy and be "part of that world." The girl we were also talking with, agreed.

It made me so sad. Because I understand the place she's in emotionally. It's hard to hate yourself THAT much...to think your possible only value to offer anyone is your looks (which aren't even your real looks once you're done being "transformed") it's an illusion. Smoke and mirrors...and that kind of magic trick is exhausting to maintain. They think it is the "easier" life.

*sigh* how do you battle an entire culture? I am but one, girl.
Save myself! I wish I could save them all...

cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute, Spot and Dot.

My boyfriend sent me this tonight...it made my face happy!

AHHHH!

This is so how I feel when I'm at work.

Man, I'm dealing with some crazy work drama at the moment and it's just making me feel heavy.

I hate that feeling. *sigh*

So my dog sitting responsibilities took an ugly turn for the worse last night. I took Moxie to work with me where she swam all day in the pool and played with my employer's dog and the family...she had a good time!

Well as we're leaving, I suddenly notice that she's just acting weird. Her tail is not hanging right. It's totally limp and crooked and looks broken almost and she won't sit down on it because it's so painful. So I'm freaking out about what's going on with her and trying to put the day's events together figuring out where things went wrong. But wait...it gets worse.

So then, she's not even walking normally and she starts getting the runs! At about midnight she comes running to me frantic to get outside...I take her out where we remain for a good fifteen minutes and then it begins. Every hour to and hour and a half until 7:30 in the morning the dog is frantically waking me up desperate to get outside.

By this point I'm SO exhausted! and worried about Moxie and dreading my long day ahead of me. I'm due to pick up my boyfriend from the airport in an hour and I start feeling so sick myself because it's all just catching up with me. The constant demands on my time and energy, most I feel the brunt of it all is work. I love the babies. I truly truly do, but it's their family that is getting to me. And the weird dynamic that I'm just enmeshed in and I feel like I had been doing a good job of keeping perspective and not getting sucked in to it all TOO much.
But I don't know...lately, the thing that made me really LOVE my job were the babies and the appreciation I felt at my job, and lately, I feel like that appreciation is lacking and the babies' "sunny dispositions" are definitely lacking. They have been just so challenging. Exploding into crying fits for no reason at all. All of this combined with my incremental burn-out as I've been running a million miles an hour since starting school in June has led me to just being overwhelmed and I guess my body fought back today with illness. I had a raging migraine and was throwing up. :-( not good times.

So I call my boss to let her know about my situation and my evening and her response? oh it's not, "aw I'm so sorry! well it's Sunday and I'm not technically working or anything. I just love your help. Please feel better!"

Nope. It's, "oh, well today really isn't a good day for you to not come in because my husband has to go into work today, so I'll need your help. So get some sleep and you can come in an hour later"

...ok?

So I do that, but my rage is just building because it's just ridiculous! It's ridiculous that she's so incapable of doing what she expects me and the other nanny to do with perfection...care for her babies by ourselves (and not just meeting their basic needs, but intellectually engaging them and never letting either one cry) while maintaining a perfect household. And end scene.

She literally can't watch them for a freaking afternoon without laying the world's worst guilt trip on me! So I call her back up in the afternoon and let her know that I'm not coming in and it was the ice queen all the way. Really quick, short tone. just, "well ok fine. see you tuesday." and I told her, "I'm so sorry, I feel so bad, please don't be upset." and she said just as short and cold as the first time. "Oh i'm not upset. see you tuesday" CLICK. hang up. o_O

yeah. passive agressive much?

So I spent the day feeling worried about the weird tension that will be awaiting me at work. I'm just getting so sick of it all.

Oh, and after consulting with my boyfriend's vet school sister and researching on the internet, we've determined that Moxie has "swimmers tail." which apparently is common with labs who have been swimming a lot (as Moxie did yesterday) and all the symptoms match up what is going on with her, which means she should be fine.

Man...I so WISH I'd known this last night when I was worried sick about her.

I'm Watching You...

So I'm peacefully showering...bubbles in my hair, my eyes closed as the water falls down over me when...

DUN DUN DUN!

I'm watching you! My dog-sitting duties continue, as I suddenly feel eyes on me and I look down, and Moxie, my boyfriend's dog has her head peaking through the shower curtain watching me.

0_O hmmm I think I prefer my showers to myself, Miss Moxie. hehe

The actions of one man do not reflect a people any more than the actions of a people reflect one man.

I like this quote. It helps to stifle my growing cynicism.

Peeping Tom o_O

...or more like "peeping Heather" to be more accurate.

But it's true. I'm notoriously nosy, and as part of my important "dog sitting responsibilities," I've recently been walking around my apartment complex quite a bit walking the dog and I'm fascinated by these "stacks of homes"..boxes on top of boxes (aka apartments hehe) that house complete strangers. House complete lives and families. All so different and mysterious but is such close proximity.

Who are these mystery people? When I see open blinds or window or a door, I can't help but crane my neck trying to catch a glimpse into their mystery lives.
How do they decorate their apartments? What are the different floor plans? What makes them tick?

So in conclusion, if you see a blond hair, green eyed girl being creeping around your open window, do not be alarmed. She's merely curious. hmmm... but the old saying goes, "curiosity killed the cat." EEP!

You Dream Cheated on Me last Night!

Is it rational for me to be angry at my boyfriend for something he did to me in my dream last night??

Apparently, YES.

Because I was angry all day about it. I had a dream last night that my boyfriend was meeting all of these girls behind my back and I found out about it by looking at his facebook.
So I'm jolted awake from this awful dream by his crazy dog at 6am this morning because I'm currently dog-sitting while he's out of town and the dog desperately needed the great outdoors. I'm outside in the dark with a mean case of bed head and I literally feel heavy with sadness about it.

I know it's residual insecurity left over from my finding out he actually did cheat on me once this summer when we were long distancing while he worked across the country, but I really hate it!
He's moved back so we could work on our relationship, and honestly things have gotten so much better and we're doing well. But then BAM! as soon as he goes away I'm having crazy dreams that leave me feeling nauseous all day long. :-( And to make it worse, he forgot his phone today so I couldn't talk to him early on and "diffuse" the feelings so to speak.

I mean...sleep is pretty signifigant. A person spends like 1/4 of their lives asleep, so where do they go exactly? Maybe our spirits leave our bodies and go into another realm. I know that sounds "far out" but I'm sort of a "far out" girl. So if that's true, then dream boyfriend was breaking dream me's heart all over again. *sigh*

Let the Maddness Stop!

This is so true. I walked into my closet suddenly full of "gusto" to do my laundry! get it clean! be productive! I'm a notorious clean freak...however, I'm also a full time student who works a demanding full time job where (oh surprise, surprise) I CLEAN and do other people's laundry all day long and take care of someone else's home and babies (I'm a nanny to infant twins) so suffice to say....at the end of my loooooooooong days... I just don't have it in me to fold another damn sock or scrub another dish!
And so I tend to procrastinate until I suddenly explode with, "ew, omg omg omg! look how dirty my apartment is" panic and start cleaning with the fervor of a meth addict ^_^

However, laundry is always my weak spot. Just because it's a process that takes so looooooooooong. Especially because my dryer is abnormally slow, while my washer is abnormally fast. So here I am stuck with sopping wet clothes and no where to dry them and then the inevitable happens....I FORGET about them. Usually for days...and then I discover them and I'm grossed out by the mildewing smell coming from the washing machine and mentally scold myself about how disgusting this is.

And then I have to re-wash the clothes that technically never even got to get dirty and live out their "clothes destiny" in the first place. o_O

Oh the horrible cycle....let the maddness stop!

The Freaking Fish is ready to Blog!

When I type my "URL" into the internet (I'm obviously so NOT tech-savvy.) I get a little giddy at the thought of how vast the internet is...and yet, here I have my own little space in it all. It's all mine! No other website will be reached when you type in "heather-smellingtheroses.blogspot.com"
and PRESTO! You find meeeee...well sort of. A small glimpse of me anyways.

Man, I'm tired.

Tough Love

Love is a beautiful gift.

Roses.
Smiles.
Hugs.
Kisses.
Hearts.
Rainbows and Spring Showers.

These images come to my mind when I think of "love."

But no one really talks about the other side of love. The more complex side of love, that I think, IS more of a gift because it's NOT suferficial and "easy" to do exactly.

Well, last night I had to explore that other side as my best friend, B texts me explaining that she is homeless again. Can she please come stay with me???

I was highly annoyed when I first saw that. I mean...B and I met under the umbrella of homelessness, because once upon a time, I was exactly like her. Two out of control addicts self destructing and destroying everyone/thing in our paths.
She and I just clicked. We bonded quickly and met at a time when I can safely say I'd been to hell and back. (But that is for another time and is another story.) and I was READY, god was I READY, to FINALLY change my life.
So we moved into a sober house together and that is when G came into the picture. G and B are like a tornado together...they met in California where they were both in rehab and then ran away from rehab and jumped a bus riding across the country to where we are now. Yeah. Very "Thelma and Louise" of them. Especially because considering they were rehab runaways, they DID have to shoplift quite a bit to "survive" o_O

So fast forward time. And here we all are. Each with a story. a past. CRAZINESS. and we've all managed to find one another, and come together in this sober house trying to not better our lives, but to make lives for ourselves.

And in this, we found love. They really were soulmates to me...a missing link that I'd always always wanted...real friendship. We just clicked. We laughed, we cried, we were there for one another, and it was love.

However, something became abundantly clear as we went on our journeys ...I was done with the old life and the girl I once was. They were not.
I got kicked out of the sober house early on not because of using, but because of an old addiction I was unable to "kick" per-se. My bulimia, my eating disorder, my Achilles heel.
The owner found out about it and promptly booted me to the curb. Truth be known, I think she was LOOKING for ANY reason to boot me because she has her own issues, and I truly believe she was jealous of me. But once again. That isn't this story.

So there I was. Newly sober and once again homeless. I had a choice. I could give in to it again, or I could put on my "big girl panties" and GET. IT. TOGETHER. so I did.
I mean...If I could get so sick, perhaps I could actually get well?? It was a new challenge. I was up for it.

I moved in with my boyfriend and got a full time job that I actually liked and learned how to manage money. He helped me so much. He taught me how to manage money, he was also sober, also a recovered addict, and he just loved me.
I had never been loved like that before.
I mean...I was always the girl who was fucked. Not loved.
It was exhilirating. I smiled more...My body tingled. Life was exciting and not so daunting. I was working hard in bi-weekly therapy sessions, each month that ticked by was another month of sobriety, stability, mental health, all NEW things. I was healing and recovering.

However, B and G were not. They were still on a downward spiral, starting to use in secret while still living in the sober house (which for obvious reasons, made me SO mad) and meanwhile, I stood by them and loved them and tried to influence them, and not vice versa.

A lot of things happened in between then and now, but once again, that isn't a part of this story...so I'll keep going.
Finally, they were kicked out of the sober house, and I was living in a large apartment I'd been sharing with a mutal friend of boyfriend and mine. Both boyfriend and mutal friend moved away at the same time...so it made perfect sense the girls would move in. So they did.

Meanwhile, I was finally at a place of sobriety and stability where I could go back to school. I was beyond terrified, I couldn't face another failure again. However, I was focused and clear minded and I thrived! I was doing so well in school, I loved thinking, and feeling competent and successful again after years of being the epitome of a fuck up. I was paying my own bills, taking care of myself, working a job I loved, and then I was taking care of B and G as they continued to flounder.
They were hell to live with. Messy is the biggest understatement. The apartment was constantly TRASHED. And then after going to school all morning, working all day and evening, I'd come home to it and have to clean it all up and do homework, repeat. repeat. repeat.
It was wearing me OUT.

They started bringing drugs and alcohol into the home...shady people. I felt so unsafe. My bills were skyrocketing with them blasting the AC on full blast and literally keeping every light in the world on. -_-
One night they showed up to a party I was at (a rarety for my busy schedule!) and they were soooooooo drunk, stoned, rolling, and barred out. They could barely stand straight and they had two 40 something year olds with them that they just picked up off the side of the road...intending to let them "Crash" at "our" place.
That. was. IT.
The lease was about to end and I was getting the FUCK out.

It was definitely for the best as I had become extremely chaos intolerant and they were all about the chaos.
So I worked quickly and found myself an apartment that I LOVED, that had what I was looking for and was a few minutes away from work and most of all, it was MINE!! all mine, with NO roommates!

In the wake of all of this, the pain of seeing my soulmates no longer in the same solar system as me was brutual. Along with losing them, my other good friends (boyfriend included) had moved away at the same time and I was suddenly all alone. I was sad. But proud of myself for moving forward and staying focused with my goals.

And so once again, a lot of stuff has happened between that moment and this one, but this is getting to be a loooooong story.

So I get the text from B saying that she was homeless and needed a place to stay. That G had drunkely crashed her car on purpose trying to kill herself. And now G was in the psych hospital with a broken back.

...

I was FURIOUS. and so sad, and so full of love for them still. So I calmed myself down and collected my thoughts before I called her. I told B that I loved her way too much to let her come stay with me. I told her she needs to make a decision. because she's been running around with G for months acting as if there are no consequences to their actions...living off of G's rich father, when B doesn't even have a car of her own. She has nothing.
I told B that it's time she "puts on the big girl panties" and that she's really NOT the exception to the rule...why should everyone else work their asses off to take care of themselves while she manipulates those to take care of her? She needs to get a job and support herself. She needs to finally get sober, she needs to say FAR AWAY from G.
They're so toxic for one another. They destroy each other obviously

Anyways, it was hard saying all of that to her, but also validating. I told her, of course she couldn't stay with me when the last time I tried that you slapped me in the face for it.

Burn me once, shame on you. Burn me twice, shame on me.

Anyways, I love you B and G. I'm thinking of you and sending good thoughts into the Universe for you.

Love,
Heather

Robotic Vacuums...

Those Gilmore Girls have it all figured out:



You know if we died right now, and decomposed...it would vacuum us up and no one would ever know. 0_0

freaky.