Wednesday, July 17, 2013


At times I feel a little crazy. More often than you'd care to imagine. More often than I'd like to share, and more often than I'll ever understand. So simply does it seem to wash over me like blood pouring from an open wound across the skin and down to the floor. Yet, I let it. Rather than sewing it up and putting in the stitches my crazy so needs, I let it stain the fabric of my life.

What kind of mess is this crazy creating? From one day to the next, I swear sometimes I don't know who or what I am or am supposed to be. I wonder how this crazy of mine effects those around me. Do they even know? Can they even see it? That despite the little outbursts, every single day is a challenge to channel my crazy into a cozy little corner in the back of my mind.

To keep up the fences and guards at my door is exhausting, but exceedingly necessary. How long can I keep the crazy contained? How long can I keep everyone happy? How long can I love everyone else, if I cannot even find the belief or strength to love myself? Maybe the crazy is just all chaos I've created on my own. Maybe I deserve this. Maybe the reason I'm crazy is because I don't know what it's like to be anything else? Maybe I need to be crazy. Maybe that's my purpose. To drive myself so exasperatingly crazy that I have no choice but to be insane.

Maybe I want to be crazy, because the problem is that I'm far too sane. That I know and see and feel things all too much. That it's all too real and that, that is the source of my insanity. I'm insane because I'm completely sane and see all that it is for what it is, without filter, no rose colored glasses, simply for the shit storm surrounding us all. Watching everything and everyone decay under the weight of the world. But maybe that's just me. Maybe I'm just talking crazy again. 

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

It's Been Awhile

I've been stable. Well.. for the most part. Life grabs hold of my soul and shakes it back and forth like a rag doll. Tattered and torn and simply feeling the decay of it all. But I'm stable.  I wonder if I say it often enough it will ring true? If my stability is sincere or simply the best lie I've told myself yet.

In quiet reflection, I ask myself to face the deepest of truths and I still refuse to answer them. It's most likely because I don't want to admit my failures. Story of my life. What's interesting about this post. It's coming off of a past two incredible days. And yet here I am... unable to grasp the concept of what should be.

Maybe I'm just not ready to come to terms with reality.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

"Sometimes being a friend means mastering the art of timing. There is a time for silence. A time to let go and allow people to hurl themselves into their own destiny. And a time to prepare to pick up the pieces when it's all over." 
- Gloria Naylor

So I need to get this off my chest. Sometimes, I feel things. It can all start with a little seedling thought that my brain cannot help but plant, then nurture and grow until it has become so large that it starts to take over all other functioning thoughts that my brain can produce. Suffocating them until it is left to be the only thought. I want to avoid the suffocating this time. I want to put a stop to it before it takes root. 

I'm easily confused, torn, struggling with my emotions. This is nothing new, this you know. As of lately things have been... different. Maybe it's the time of year. Maybe it's a mountain made of little stones all adding up. Maybe it's me. It takes longer to get a response. You're distant, but not cold. You're quiet, yet not reserved. You're talkative, but sporadically and about nothing much. I find myself mirroring you, all because of this little seedling. 
You see, I understand your desires to not share everything, to not divulge all the details, to keep somethings to yourself. I'm not used to it. In fact, it's utterly confusing. But I'm trying to come to terms with it. To not nit pick every little thing; to not let little seedlings be planted. I've done well, only one itty bitty weak seedling has made it's way through. As weak as it was to begin with, it's roots have sprouted and are starting to take hold. Of this I am not a fan. 

This seedling; it started off noticing these... changes in behaviors. I know I've been under the weather and perhaps that's made me less than conversational, but I've tried to keep up to my usual. You said you needed to and were working on making changes. These changes you did not make clear. The tasks to make the changes, I'm unsure of, and I hate that because you said this things, and could not or would not divulge them, it makes me feel less than comfortable, especially when I noticed the other changes. 

These other changes or changes in behaviors, they could have absolutely nothing to do with me. And that's what I've been telling myself. It's why I haven't said anything. I've rationalized this over and over again. Neither of us have been feeling so well as of lately.

Monday, October 10, 2011

Found A Way To Hope - Ever Changing

Words are amazing. Pictures breathtaking. SOAM is inspiring, uplifting and in it's own right practically therapeutic at least for me. I guess by now you're probably wonder what SOAM stands for; Shape of a Mother.  Today, like nearly every other day in my life, after waking I  got dressed to greet the day. 

 Nothing unusual about the task, after all it's simply putting on a few articles of clothing. Though simple as simple is, I can take any task and find a way to criticize or analyze myself. Most often, doing this task, it usually comes down to my body. My ever changing body. My scars, my stretch marks, my flappy stomach, dimpled butt cheeks, cellulite covered thighs and my beautiful breasts.  Those of you who've managed to dig through all of my blogs randomness have probably read a few posts regarding my body issues. I've had them for years. 

I've fought my battles with both anorexia and bulimia, self love and self hate. And I've also had a life changing miracle happen, motherhood, TWICE! Each and every day is a different day. Now, in the moment, for the most part I'm okay with myself. I've accepted myself. Does that mean I love every inch of skin? No. Does it mean you'll find me scantily clad or breaking out the bikini? No. Will I ever feel the same about my body as I did 5 years ago? No. My body is ever changing.   

In the past two days, I have become an avid visitor to the SOAM website. To be honest, I was having a fat, disgusted with myself, wanting change kind of day. After many many google searches on the best and healthy way to lose the flap of skin on my stomach post baby, (yes I know, I know, my kids are 4 and 2, I just haven't found any lasting motivation. Still working on that, please I beg of you, give me time!) I decided to do a search on postpartum bellies of real mothers, and that's when I came across SOAM.  Of course celebrities are real mothers as well and I give them props for how quickly they bounce back, but I was looking for your every day moms. The ones who work, or stay home, or do a combination of the two. Or the single moms, or the moms with large families. I wanted to see every day women like the women I run into at the grocery store, but I always felt it would be a little awkward and inappropriate to ask them to show me their stomachs in the middle of the cereal isle. 

The SOAM website allows you to read their stories in their words, with their photographs. To me, this has been a gift. A way to hope. A way to acknowledge that the way I feel about my body on any given day is not only acceptable, but valid. I have feelings. I have my good days and I have my bad days as I have said before. But SOAM in so many ways has allowed my vision to change and to be a little less hard on myself. To be more accepting of what my body has become and the empowerment to know that if I want to change my body, I can; it is ever changing. 

Ever Changing.

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Still I

"Step aside the quicksand tide, walk along the empty shoreline. Seek nothing, but wander no less; time to put this pain to rest. Fade in and out, dawn’s weary light, fighting to defeat the night. Abating and tired, still pushing on; thumbing through purposes long gone. Pondering passions; never cease. Worthlessness bleed over me, in pain, in strife, in fight or flight, it’s time to get something right. Right or wrong; night has succumbed to dawn. Daylight shines so pristine and bright. Still I wander, still I weep."
- Babers

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Inner Ramblings Expressed

"The last stroke of midnight dies. All day in the one chair, from dream to dream and rhyme to rhyme I have ranged in rambling talk with an image of air. Vague memories, nothing but memories."
- William Butler Yeats
A collection or ramblings running through my mind tonight. I try not to dwell on one subject too long as they always seem to turn into a negative black pit that I struggle to climb my way out of. Rather than listen to the thoughts as they fly so effortlessly through, I numb myself. I find any source of distraction I can tolerate. Everything seems to take so much energy. I feel drained. 

Little by little its all tumbling down. Spontaneous breaks in the monotonous hum drums of just getting through. Smiles and laughs brought upon by the two little beams of sunshine that keep me going. I'm not hurt, or angry, or sad even. I just feel drained. Like it's all too much work. Even the things I am usually able to find so much joy in are losing their luster. 

I can be smiling one minute filled with motivation and in the next it's like the universe comes to a screeching halt and I get stuck. I feel like I'm filled with sludge. My arms and legs heavy, my muscles too weak to even carry their own weight. Physically, I am capable. Mentally, I'm defeated. 

I do this to myself. Every now and again. Sometimes I feel like I have to. To wear myself so thin, so close to the breaking point just to remind myself I cannot do it all. I cannot be it all. I cannot. Yet, I have trouble saying no and the worst part in that, is not that I can't say no to others, but when I can't say no to myself. You can stay up just one more hour longer to get the dishes done. It's time to make up for wasted days. Days like today. Moments like this very one. 

I thought maybe just maybe if I wrote it down tonight I'll be able to shut off my mind and get some much needed sleep. Wake up to a whole new day, with a new found source of energy and a goal in mind. The problem is, I'm negative. Pray for the best, but prepare for the worst. I think it comes back to bite me in the ass more often than it helps save me from the disappointment. 

I wonder if all this negativity that I let dwell inside my soul is weighing me down; and yet, I don't know how to let go of it. The slightly ironic thing about all of this is, I tend to be a hypocrite. I preach positivity and good karma and all that fluffy bullshit that gets thrown out there and here I am. Praying for the best, but preparing for the worst. Do they cancel each other out? Is that why I feel I'm stuck in a perpetual cycle of nothingness. 

Where am I going in life? What do I want out of life? Why can't I figure it out? Will I ever figure it out? Or should I just stop planning? Should I just go with the flow of things? I can't. I need some sort of focus. I feel like I'm lacking it. I'm lacking in all areas that I know I could excel in. School, job, the daily grind. I could be so much better than I am. It's not about being better than the next or keeping up with the Jones' or even chasing the "American Dream." Fuck the American Dream. I just want to improve myself. I want to be a better version of who I am. The person I thought I was capable of being. When and why did I stop believing? Did I ever really believe? Or was I being naive? 

They say good things come to those who wait; well how long does it take? I mean how long should I keep waiting? Long enough to settle into becoming a simple shell of all the things I once thought I could be? Where is my fight? Have I given up on myself? Should I? I'm starting to think that of all the things I once daydreamed about are just now memories and there is no way to get that passion back. 

But this rambling has gone on long enough and while my mind is overflowing, it's time I put the flood gates up and call it a night. The morning alarm is going to be hell on me. I feel it in my bones. Truth be told, I don't have a reason to set the alarm. I'm not working in the morning, but maybe that's what I need to do. Force myself to face the day. Find a way out of this funk no matter what it takes. Even if it means setting the alarm for 6:30 am, grabbing a cold shower and planning some kind of routine for the day. If I can do this, if I can pull myself from my bed rather than letting all this sludge and muck keep me soporific and apathetic, maybe I'll get lucky and find a way back to a bit of normalcy and balance. 


Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Nothing Noteworthy.

"Dark shadows dancing on the ceiling, softly swaying in the flickering candles glow. What once was there, we’ll never know. Watching shadows in their rhythmic ways until they disband into a pool of obscurity, my mind counts the ways that things will never be the same. Long forgotten days, buried beneath piles of counterfeit smiles, and forced hellos; I’m a crook in many ways. Bringing cheapened moments of happiness to those who surround me, only to know inside, everything is a lie. Day to day and night after night, silent unseen tears are shed. My burden to bare, the weight of my mind, life will surely kill me in due time."
- Babers