Stronger Than I Was. But Imma Still Be Humble When I Scream “Fuck You” Cause I’m Stronger Than I Was.

I’m rewatching “Glee.”

I’ve only ever watched seasons 1-3 — or I guess whatever episode it was when Kurt’s Dad almost died (the show aired 10 years ago so if you’re pissed that I didn’t give you a “spoiler alert” notice — get woke 😂😁😝).

Cory Montieth’s death (who was the lead male character in “Glee,” for those of you who don’t know) killed me inside

For real.

I think about him often.

He died from a heroin overdose — after being to rehab AGAIN — another person struggling so hard to feel JUSTOK” (because being “just ok” is quite literally too much to ask for or express; I’m well aware). I read an interview once in which he talked very openly about his drug use prior to “Glee,” telling others that the show helped him get away from all of that and how grateful he was.

And, like Heath Ledger’s death, because he was JUST trying to sleep — needing that SO badly (coupled with the added bonus of my having been on many of the same medications as he was) when he ingested the wrong mix of everything — you know — the ones that killed him — also continues to destroy me as much.

So I’ve avoided it.

But we all have Demons.

I’ve never [intentionally] judged ANYONE who many of you might consider an addict. It’s not fair to them.

To quote Lady Gaga’s song, TIL IT HAPPENS TO YOU,” made for the movie “The Hunting Ground” about sexual assault on college campuses (a must see in my opinion, as a survivor and as a human being) but is just as applicable in my opinion to drug users, (emphasis added):

🎶You tell me it gets better, it gets better in time
You say I’ll pull myself together, pull it together
You’ll be fine
Tell me what the Hell do you know?
What do you know?
Tell me how the Hell could you know?
How could you know?

You tell me hold your head up
Hold your head up and be strong
‘Cause when you fall, you gotta get up
You gotta get up and move on

Tell me, how the Hell could you talk?
How could you talk?
‘Cause until you walk where I walk
It’s just all talk

‘Til your world burns and crashes
‘Til you’re at the end of your rope
‘Til you’re standing in my shoes
I don’t wanna hear nothing from you

From you, from you, ’cause you don’t know
‘Til it happens to you
You don’t know

HOW I feel
‘Til it happens to you
You won’t know

It won’t be real
How could you know?

No it won’t be real
How could you know?

Won’t know how it feels
‘Til it happens to you, happens to you
Happens to you
Happens to you, happens to you
Happens to you (how could you know?)
‘Til it happens to you, you won’t know how I feel.🎶

I’ve been so dangerously desperate so many times that OF COURSE I’m going to empathize with them.

And I’ll probably continue to cry, quite literally, for them both from time to time.

But.

I’m facing fears in 2020. And I’m going all out.

THIS is going to be my year.

Perfect teeth.

About to get my hair done by the ONE and ONLY Master so I’m obviously excited out of my fucking mind. Not this exactly but my closest friends know she’s my hair inspiration.

Trying to OWN my treatment and continuing to make my Counselor and Group proud.

Getting more proud of myself for my dedication to “get better,” (which is NOT what we call it in the program but you get the picture), even.

Have the best Mom.

A Brother who fights me constantly but loves me just as much as he fights.

The friends I have are amazing in every way I should hope for.

People care about me more than I thought they might.

So let’s go, 2020.

Time to live a year with no regrets and complete positivity instead — (I know — NOT my strong points since the Hell that was law school, but I’m doing the work and will continue to).

I will keep doing me.

I’m not perfect.

I cry.

I lie to myself.

But now I KNOW that I lie to myself AND understand the consequences of that — and THAT’S?! — all up in my healing process, not to mention part of my program. And I’m accepting and owning that shit twenty-four seven.

And I will not be silenced or shushed or made to feel that I should apologize for ANYTHING simply by being a woman.

Thank you to everyone who has supported me this year.

So Happy New Year.

And as John Wick might say — and I mean this in THE best way — “BE SEEING YOU.”

🎶♥️✌️

Up is Down. Don’t ask my opinion. Don’t ask me to lie, then beg for forgiveness. For making you cry.

Happy mid-December 2019 y’all! What a year. I tallied 4/365 days this year that I felt “well” and that were good days for me in 2019.

I count.

I’ve always been terrible at math — something every law professor I ever had made a joke about in at least one lecture during the semester, which I always thought was odd as Hell — but I digress.

I had less than 1/52 weeks of “feeling good” time during this year we called 2019 (so far, anyway 🤞).

But I am SO grateful for those 4 days.

I keep telling and retelling the following “story” lately because it continues to be relevant and because I think it’s funny. And it is funny because of it’s veracity.

One day, longer into our relationship than I would have expected, my ex said to me, “you know…I used to think you were complaining and mad and yelling all the time, but then I realized that’s just how you talk.” Why did that guy stick around so long?! 😂

So when I say I’m grateful for the 4 days, you should believe that I’m not complaining or being sarcastic; you should believe me.

It could have been worse.

I could have had 0/365 days.

This is another post about my ex.

But in a way I have not yet written about him.

I love movies.

LOVE THEM.

I’m not a harsh critic, so I enjoy so many of them.

I still have a Netflix DVD/Blu-ray delivery plan — and I read you can’t even sign up for that anymore unless you’ve been a member of said plan for quite some time.

(I’m not even going to fact check that because I’m a middle child and like to — excuse me — need to feel special.)

I also love reading, especially books.

Something super bizarre, even for me, started happening a couple weeks ago.

Or maybe I just noticed it was happening a couple weeks ago.

This thing makes my heart ache, and my stomach queasy.

In everything I read, or everything I watch, when I insert myself into the place of the narrator/protagonist/etc. (which I think a lot of us do at least occasionally, right?) and whenever I’m assuming the perspective of a broken-hearted person, a hopeful person waiting for THE ONE they love to come back, or even worse, a person mourning a dead character — I’ve been mourning my ex of 5 years in the place of the missing character.

It’s always his face I see in that slot.

You know. Up in that good ole mind’s eye? He’s the one who broke my heart. He’s the one missing. He’s the dead character I’m mourning. He’s all those characters in my mind.

And, like I said, this is new to me. At least consciously.

I’m not talking about for a split second either.

I’m talking about the love of my life (don’t hate me for calling him that LB (if you’re reading this), I know and don’t necessarily disagree with everything you’ve said to me and I love and cherish your support♥️😘 but it’s where I’m at nevertheless) being gone, and my brain reminiscing about my long lost love.

My only long lost love.

The last man standing.

And yet, he’s alive! Which is a great thing!!!!!

But it’s driving me crazy.

I mean…this is me. Happy. At the dentist!

(He’s actually just a really great dentist with a really great staff.) That doesn’t make me any less crazy though.

Because I’m not used to giving up on things when they’re still possible.

I NEVER have and NEVER will be able to do that. I can never give up on someone I love.

(Just like I haven’t given up on my sister. I may be dead to her, but she’s not to me. Another day on those shenanigans.)

Remember the Godmother [the one my Mom supported my Dad in choosing for me] who disowned me this year? I called her two Sundays ago and opened the door. Whether she even touches the doorknob or not is yet to be seen (the call went straight to voicemail, and I haven’t heard back) — but at least I tried.

What else can I do?

But she’s a great example of someone I love who I didn’t give up on. She slapped me in the face — I think because I embarrassed her, very sincerely unintentionally — but I can’t continue living in good conscience knowing I didn’t at least try.

Like I always say — where there’s a WILL — try to get in it. I’m VERY much kidding. That’s awful and I just thought of it right now. My ex and I had the same sense of humor, and I’d venture he’s the only one who would not judge me for that tasteless joke.

I’m a 34 year old single woman and I still do things like this:

so I don’t know what you expect from me.

When I’m using my rational mind — I don’t even think mourning him is all that crazy.

We dated longer and lived together longer than some marriages last.

So, actually, it isn’t so crazy that he could have been my lost love who I mourn.

It happens to people committed to each other for fewer years than we were together all the time.

I’m about to spill a secret, so listen up; I NEVER didn’t think I’d be without him after I was with him.

From the start of the relationship I felt that we would ALWAYS be together, until I died. I swear on my life.

Maybe call that taking him for granted, because maybe I did.

The thought that we’d break up for real was not in my vocabulary of thoughts.

But it was in his.

I hope this passes.

Because unless he comes back, which I refuse to give up on, or lose my optimism about, until I’m actually dead, in one way or another, I’ll always be his.

Queue the lyrics to my song of choice for this revelation:

🎶I met you in the dark, you lit me up
You made me feel as though I was enough
We danced the night away, we drank too much
I held your hair back when
You were throwing up

Then you smiled over your shoulder
For a minute, I was stone-cold sober
I pulled you closer to my chest
And you asked me to stay over
I said, I already told ya
I think that you should get some rest

I knew I loved you then
But you’d never know
‘Cause I played it cool when I was scared of letting go
I know I needed you
But I never showed
But I wanna stay with you until we’re grey and old
Just say you won’t let go
Just say you won’t let go

I’ll wake you up with some breakfast in bed
I’ll bring you coffee with a kiss on your head
And I’ll take the kids to school
Wave them goodbye
And I’ll thank my lucky stars for that night

When you looked over your shoulder
For a minute, I forget that I’m older
I wanna dance with you right now
Oh, and you look as beautiful as ever
And I swear that everyday’ll get better
You make me feel this way somehow

I’m so in love with you
And I hope you know
Darling your love is more than worth its weight in gold
We’ve come so far my dear
Look how we’ve grown
And I wanna stay with you until we’re grey and old
Just say you won’t let go
Just say you won’t let go

I wanna live with you
Even when we’re ghosts
‘Cause you were always there for me when I needed you most

I’m gonna love you till
My lungs give out
I promise till death we part like in our vows
So I wrote this song for you, now everybody knows
Finally it’s just you and me till we’re grey and old
Just say you won’t let go
Just say you won’t let go

Just say you won’t let go
Oh, just say you won’t let go🎶

James Arthur – “Say You Won’t Let Go”

I’m not done looking for a replacement.

But I’m also not accepting resumes while I’m working my program right now.

So, this is just some food for thought that I’m hoping someone reading this relates to during what can be a difficult season for many of us.

🎶♥️✌️ and as always — be good to each other ✌️♥️🎶

Nobody Knows You Better Than Me. Better Than The Lace You Wear. Every Single Detail Chantilly. Every Curl Inside Your Hair.

Topics I Want To Write About For The Hundreds Of People Who Read My Posts (And I’m Very Grateful For That Truth) ASAP:

  • My “Wellness Check” experience and everything about it.
  • My sister.
  • My Fibromyalgia and how my hands are barely functioning.
  • Christmas without….

If You Wait Around Awhile, I’ll Make You Fall For Me. I Promise You; I Will.

The purpose of this past is for one reason only.

I can’t handle being rejected.

I tried to figure out a great metaphor to provide you with a visualization of this feeling.

I failed.

I fail often.

People think I am not aware of my shortcomings, ironically.

I find this incredulous.

My shortcomings are the only things that I am aware of, in fact. Every moment. Every day. In my sleep, every night.

I digress.

The purpose of this post is for one reason only.

To inform.

For your understanding.

It’s astoundingly obvious to me now.

I lash out at everyone and every thing that rejects me.

I spit evil at everyone and every thing that rejects me.

I want to make everyone and every thing that rejects me feel the emotional pain that I feel as a result of said rejection.

So.

If I pretend to hate(???????) you (those who raped, sexually assaulted, or otherwise abused me (and those that protect and defend them) excluded of course) —

That is me reacting to your rejection of me.

That’s all.

The end.

✌️✌️✌️

🎶If you need a friend

Don’t look to a stranger
You know in the end, I’ll always be there
But when you’re in doubt
And when you’re in danger
Take a look all around, and I’ll be there
I’m sorry, but I’m just thinking of the right words to say
I know they don’t sound the way I planned them to be
But if you wait around a while, I’ll make you fall for me
I promise, I promise you I will
When your day is through
And so is your temper
You know what to do
I’m gonna always be there
Sometimes if I shout
It’s not what’s intended
These words just come out
With no gripe to bear
I’m sorry, but I’m just thinking of the right words to say
I know they don’t sound the way I planned them to be
But if you wait around a while, I’ll make you fall for me
I promise you, I promise you I will
I’m sorry, but I’m just thinking of the right words to say
I know they don’t sound the way I planned them to be
And if I had to walk the world, I’d make you fall for me
I promise you, I promise
I’m sorry, but I’m just thinking of the right words to say
I know they don’t sound the way I planned them to be
And if I had to walk the world, I’d make you fall for me
I promise you, I promise you I will🎶

— “The Promise” by Sturgill Simpson


🎶♥️✌️

I’m A Free Bitch, Baby. And No It’s Not The Good Kind.

I’ve been wanting to write about my online dating experiences since they started.

And then, when I thought I had one crazy but great story, I had another one before I could even write about the first one.

Then another.

Then ANOTHER.

I started needing to take notes🤣🤦!

You get it.

I currently identify as Demisexual.

I’m not going to tell you the definition, so if you care you should look it up.

Regardless of identifying as Demisexual, I’ve been searching solely for a man to bond and hopefully mate with.

Don’t get me wrong.

I think women are hot and beautiful and gorgeous in so many forms.

But I’m not physically magnetically attracted to them the way I am to men.

(Still, I’d rather look at a naked woman over a naked man 2/3 times.)

For a few years I was confused.

I HAVE been totally and COMPLETELY in love with a woman, questioning whether or not I am gay, or bisexual.

Then I met a dude who identified as Demisexual. He explained it to me.

And it finally all made sense.

I’m not asexual — something I believed I might be on and off since high school.

But I’m not.

I also am not into ANYONE who I don’t connect with deeply.

Thus, I’m Demisexual.

Fuck.

I wasn’t going to explain that.

🎶 Do you want to run away together?

I would say it was your best line ever.

Too bad I fell for it.🎶

– The Wreckers “Not the Good Kind”

I have got to stop being with the liars. More soon.

Be good to each other — 🎶♥️✌️