She is tossed by the waves, but does not sink

I love this so much that I have it tattooed on my right forearm. Forever on my body. The funny thing is that I see this every day. For the last three years. Yet today was the first day I actually saw it. I think I felt it today More than the day I sat under that needle. There was no specific event that led to the day being what it was. Just one of those days, I suppose. But it happens to be my birthday. So imagine my disappointment when it wasn’t what I was hoping for. What was I hoping for? Your guess is as good as mine. The older I get, the more I realize that, all and all, it truly is Just another day. Yet here I am, lying in bed, feeling slightly Disappointed. Hell, there is no slightly about it. I actually feel depressed. And With everything else life has put in front of me recently, I can also safely say depleted. Defeated even. For one, this is The first birthday I have spent alone in years. My first birthday With no partner to celebrate With. One thing I have come to realize that I took for granted. I spent The day With family, which was amazing. I prepared a pork roast that would blow your mind! I had a new cocktail that My mother had to show off. And now I am resting My head. The most beautiful baby girl on my left, and My favorite little Chihuahua on My right. Couldn’t ask for much more of a satisfying birthday. So why do my shoulders feel so heavy? Why do my eyes burn from fighting back tears? Because I am depleted. No other way of putting it. Why I am choosing to bare my soul here, I am not sure. Maybe Because I don’t have an audience. Whatever it may be, I can’t seem to control it. Tonight, I need an outlet. And I choose you.

I am so tired, that it burns to close my eyes. Being stuck open, my vision is blurry. I am barely capable of any thought process. I can physically no longer move. My legs can no longer carry me. I am exhausted. And my mind isn’t in any better shape. At this moment, my daughter and I are staying with my best friend and her husband. After losing my apartment, they were amazing enough to open their home to us, no questions asked. We will be here another two weeks, give our take, then will be moving on to my parent’s house where they are graciously opening their hearts. My whole life, my daughter’s life, resides in three locations. The guest bedroom at my friends, my mom’s garage, and a ridiculously priced storage unit. I know where nothing is. We are living out of boxes and duffle bags and it makes me feel like a piece of you know what. I have no place to call my own. No place to run to when The chaos becomes too much. No escape from The real world. I found myself in multiple moments today where I had to fight off an anxiety attack. Heavy breathing, sweaty palms, dry mouth. I would allow myself to get stuck in my head. Nervously going over every detail of my life as it stands now. I would get overwhelmed and start to panic. The start of a new year, and I have no home. Already struggling with balance. With where I fit in in this world. I hate it. I hate this feeling. All the feelings. All of it. I am trying to be patient. To let the universe work its magic. But damn it, I’m a Taurus. I don’t work that way. I am attempting to change that trait. Not working out too well so far, but I’m not ready to give up. Hence The reason I brought up my tattoo. I saw that today, and knew that that was The reason I put it on my body. For today. The waves are getting higher and higher and I feel like I am drowning. I just can’t seem to catch my breath. I am getting So tired, treading water is becoming difficult. I just keep repeating to myself “she does not sink.” Over and over. She does not sink. She does not sink.

She will not sink.

Emotional Inventory: part 1

My mind is pure chaos tonight. So many thoughts, so little space. Unable to fully cope with said chaos, I succumbed to temptation and have filled my body with intoxicants. Empty beer bottles litter my coffee table, while a full one rests in my lap. Half of a joint sits in the ashtray amidst the empty glass. Tonight I made the ultimate decision to not feel. The unfortunate thing about having a mind like mine, is that it never truly shuts down. I can open beer after beer, trying with all my might to sequester myself from emotion, yet as I move from one to the next, it becomes more and more difficult.

A few things plague me tonight, and I can’t seem to stay focused on one emotion long enough to resolve it. I suppose the inebriation doesn’t help. But it has, to some degree, forced me to touch on a few things that I have, up until now, been too afraid to face. I have written about my fears quite a bit recently. Be it here, notes on Facebook or my own personal journal. Failure. Loneliness. Heartbreak. I have written them down. I have spoken about them. Tonight I realized that I have yet to actually do any personal inventory of these vicious feelings. With the help of my favorite beer and some wonderful Southern Oregon herb, tonight I begin the inventory. Tonight I begin my journey. And for some reason I feel empowered to share.

I have decided to start small. Baby steps, as they say. I shall focus on one demon at a time. Tonight I begin with loneliness. I have never been great at being alone. I crave conversation. I crave laughter. I crave the presence of another soul. I feed off of the energy of others. You could be sitting an inch away from me and not say a word and I would be happy. No matter the type of companionship. Friend, sister, parent, lover. When I speak of companionship, however, I don’t mean friend or family. The loneliness that strickens me tonight is the lack of a mate. A confidant. The one that crawls into bed with me at night. The one that holds me when I no longer have the strength to stand. The one that tells me I am beautiful first thing in the morning When I have kinked hair and bad breath. The one that wipes the tears from my cheeks. The one that laughs at my stupid jokes. The ones that skips with me in public. The one that loves the way I love. Crazy. Passionate. Intense. I love my parents. I love my sister. I love my daughter. I love my dog. My life, each and every one. But I want to love to the point where my breath is taken away. And I want to be loved to the point where you are driven crazy. No one will ever love you like I can. It has broken my heart a few times. And I am sure it will happen a few more. But it is beyond worth it. And I cannot wait until I get the privilege to love like that once again.

I am not quite sure how I will approach taking inventory on this matter. This might be the tougher of the bunch. I guess all I can really do is learn to love myself. Be happy in my own skin. Be okay with my flaws. Easier said than done? God, you have no idea. That might have to become a mini series of sorts, haha. My focus for now will be to breathe. Open my eyes. Open my mind. Open my soul. Be my true self. No matter how Crazy, or emotional, or damaged. This is me.

Take it or leave it.

Twenty seconds of insane courage

   I read something tonight that truly touched me. As I only have a few followers, I am sure the author will eventually come across this. But his words were inspiring and his journey  so similar to my own. I suddenly felt the need to get a little gritty.

   I have spent my whole life being scared. Frightened, really. Of change. Disappointment. Rejection. I never asked a boy out because I was afraid he would say no and laugh at me. So why not just avoid that situation all together and not say a word? Can’t be disappointed that way. I wouldn’t argue a grade on a paper even knowing I was well deserving of something better. I would never complain about an order at a restaurant. If there was ever a situation where blame needed to be placed, I would usually take it, having done nothing wrong in the slightest. Anything I could do to avoid confrontation. Even as an adult I am guilty of the having the same fears. Same behavior. The funny thing about all of this, is that I was only that way with myself. When it came to someone else, the table was flipped completely upside down. With caring for my mother for as long as I have, I have dealt with countless doctors, therapists, pharmacies, insurance companies. I had to have a backbone. I had to fight for my mother. For my dad. For my younger sister. I had to be the glue when my mother got sick. And I tell you what, I killed it. But when I got sick, it became something different. I had to dig deep to find my own strength. To learn how to fight for myself. How to stop being so Damn timid.



   The person that I am now at twenty-nine simply astonishes me. I know I will never stop learning, and I pray that I don’t. I have become a force of nature. I am The wind that uproots trees. I am The fire that takes acres in minutes. The waves of the ocean that sends ships to their graves. I am one that you will remember. I saw a movie recently, We Bought a Zoo. I’m sure you have heard of it. There was a line in the movie that took my breath away.

“All it takes is 20 seconds of insane courage and I promise something beautiful will come of it.”

It’s not word for word, but you get the gist. That very moment my whole life changed. What the hell have I been so afraid of? So I get rejected. So my heart gets broken. Isn’t it better to have love and lost than to have never loved at all? I believe so, absolutely. I took that and have started to rebuild my life around it. Have I gotten my heart broken? Like you wouldn’t imagine. Have I been rejected? Damn straight. But I keep my head up and own that sh*t. Broken heart or no, I made some amazing memories. Met people I will never forget. People that helped awaken my soul. And that I cannot be broken hearted over. My soul was drowning. To be rescued is one hell of a feeling.

   Am I were I want to be? Definitely not. But I am okay with that. I can say that I know my purpose in life. Not half bad for my age. I know as long as I continue, I will reach my destination. I will find the one who loves the way I do. I will continue to find courage. I will continue to love myself.  I will continue to live my life. Kind of goes back to a previous post. Have memories, not dreams.

And that is exactly what shall happen.

Fairytale Dreamer


When I was in school, my teachers used to send progress reports home with the students that gave a basic summary of our performance. Be it for a quarter or a semester. Sometimes a personal note would be included, but they all had the same few generic descriptions.

“Works well with others”
“Great speaker”
“Shows leadership skills”
“Talks too much”

The last two pretty much sums up my whole school career. Ever progress report. Every report card. I was actually made to sit in the front of the class in almost every course I took. I always had better things to do. Reading, writing. Daydreaming. School never really held my interest. I enjoyed a few classes in high school. Mostly electives. Art, stage craft, photography, creative writing, debate team. Band and choir. I loved anything that allowed me to escape. Escape the torture that was high school. In the midst of my dreaming, I created my best work. My paintings showed more depth. My writing held more passion. I was never ashamed of being stuck In my head. I own it. I love it.

I think it started with my parents. I was read to as a child. Religiously. Mostly fairytales. Grimms to be precise. I loved the darkness. The realness. At twenty-nine, I still have a collection of old hardback copies and am constantly on the hunt for others. My true weakness.

But is there an age limit for believing in fairytales? Are we supposed to stop believing like we do with Santa Claus or the Easter bunny? Do we simply grow out of it? We are hardwired to be successful. Graduate high school. Go to college. Get a job. Get married and have kids. Imagination breaks up the monotony of life. Allows for a detour in your routine.


We all wish for the Happily Ever After ending. Unfortunately it doesn’t always work out that way. Our hearts get broken. Our worlds shattered. Abandonment. Death. Hatred. This world can be a cruel place. We all want happiness. Rainbows and butterflies. “We all long for fairytales in a world full of darkness.” Couldn’t have said it better myself.


I believe magic is more real than most realize. I believe in magic. In That spark. In true love. I believe in crazy, passionate love. I believe in Prince charming. I believe there is someone out there who loves the way I do. Who believes in sweeping someone off their feet. True love is why I believe in fairytales. And fairytales Are why I believe in true love. And I don’t think we would be the same without fairytales. Without dreams of a better life. Of the perfect love. Of absolute insane, indescribable, passionate, breathtaking love.



Debilitating to say the least. So Much So that I avoided life. Refused to take chances, knowing I would only fail. With that knowledge, why risk it? It was easier to just play it safe. No expectations, no disappointments.

This so-called phobia has stricken me today more than I thought was ever possible. I have always been the best at hiding my pain. Smiling on the outside while my soul is weeping. Today I am unable to hide the pain. The hurt. The helplessness.

Why I am choosing to share, I truly don’t know. I have never really kept my depression a secret. Sometimes it is so apparent, I couldn’t hide it if I tried. But this level of despair is something I have never shared. And frankly, I’m scared sh*tless. Scared I will be seen as weak. As a failure. As a f*ckup.

In March,  I moved in to my first apartment by myself. Just my daughter and me. Starting over, I didn’t come in with much. My walls are bare. I have one couch and one table. My bed sits, not on a frame, but on the hardwood floor that covers the entire place. A lamp in one corner, my easel in another. My coat rack is a plastic disaster purchased from the Dollar Store. I have no rugs or really fancy decorations. But I am happy with what I do have. This apartment was my step up. My fresh start. A new home in which new memories were to be made. I have recently found out, that due to past financial mishaps, I am unable to stay. I am having to, once again, put my life into boxes. Boxes that will spend an unforeseen amount of time locked away in a dark, dingy storage that can only be accessed during business hours. I am blessed enough to have a mother and father who are willing to open their home to us, which I know is more than what most can say. It does, however, leave me with that feeling of failure. That feeling of not being good enough.

That damn feeling goes beyond matters of the home. I also find myself struggling with the failure of past relationships. Some I will admit fault. I did things I am not proud of. I made mistakes and am living with them to the best of my ability. One ended with me believing I was the failure. I had flaws that could not be looked passed, the demise inevitably my fault. A child the product of said demise, it was my fault I was left to care for her on my own. The toxicity of that relationship still weighs on me with every sleepless night. I find myself afraid to try again. Maybe it is for the fear of not being good enough. Which I know isn’t the case. To the right person, I will be good enough. I will not be seen as damaged goods. Which I find it hard to believe I am anything but. Maybe it’s just because I can’t take another heartbreak. With every broken heart comes a lesson. That I am well aware of. But damn, it hurts. It really, really hurts.


It does matter, or we wouldn’t continuously put ourselves through it. For me, that is my whole purpose. To love. I put love in everything I do. I love with every fiber of my being. Sometimes too easily. I fall for the broken. I fall hard and I fall fast. I fall in love with flaws. With insecurities. I think I fall for anyone who bares the tiniest bit of their soul. It’s real. Raw. Humanity in its truest form. It is pain and beauty and I can’t get enough of it.



I have six days to pack my life. Six days. With a full-time job, a daughter, and the most chaotic of minds, I have less than a week to close this chapter of my Life. I am feeling weak, and beyond unsure of how This will be possible. All I have the strength for now is to just close my eyes, take a leap of faith, and believe that there is a reason for my struggle. That this fight with defeat isn’t really defeat at all, but simply a delay.