I’m Trying – A Lot

What a morning. It isn’t even 10 am and I’ve already felt very overwhelmed. My anxiety is hitting me hard today. But alas, I must move forward while I have a few minutes of peace.

I was starting to blog today about some really cute items I picked up at Micheals. Then the anxiety started sinking in. I had to stop to regroup before I exploded and everyone around me became a victim.

If you have anxiety (you do not suffer from it), you know it can be hard to regroup. Luckily, I have my dog. He helps me find my center.

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Today’s focus wasn’t about my anxiety, though. It just ended up being all I could think about at the moment. What I really came here to tell you about is my top-notch, over the top, organizing skills. Here’s what I acquired at Micheals. I spent too much money, but oh, it’s so cool.

I pretty excited about my new things. Hopefully, I can get my life on track and keep up with what I pretend to be: a normal, functioning adult who loves shiny things, and her dog.

How do you keep organized?

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I Let You Go

I wrote this piece a while back about someone I used to love. I say used to, and know that’s a lie. I still love them, but I’ve guarded my heart against them. This person had such a power over who I was. Letting go of such a thing is no easy task. It took years, a great friend, and an awakening. This piece is my moment. May this person find theirs.

I fell in love with you. I woke one day and it occurred that I didn’t love you like a friend, I loved you like a lover. I wanted to be with you. I wanted to be yours. I wanted to be with you as long as life would let us.

You nearly had me convinced. You talked of marriage – of future plans. I was in awe of it. However, I should have known. I should have known it was only an escape for you. A way to fantasize about something other than your current situation. An out. A statement that said, fuck it rather than a statement with any real meaning.

I fell for you. I almost made plans. Plans for us to be together. I was willing to compromise your lust for others just so I could be with you.

I almost had myself convinced it would work out.

I almost settled. I almost gave in.

Sometimes it takes others to show you what’s wrong. When you’re so disillusioned, it takes the eyes and wisdom of another being to guide you to what is right. I found that person. Someone who made me realize I was never getting what I wanted and that you were only around when the statement “fuck it” came to mind.

Perhaps it would have worked. Perhaps we could have been happy. I would have tried. The fog lifted, though. I cried for it to return. I yearned to be blind. I screamed to feel the pain of never having you. But another warmth settled in and gave me the strength to dry my tears, to see, and to stop the pain.

I have to let go. My heart can’t take anymore.

I hope you find peace in your storm. May you break free of what binds you, and know that happiness is not found in others by way of casual leisure, one night stands, and broken promises, it’s found in you.

You can make yourself happy. Do this, and your discontent will end.

Something New

I joined a challenge to write everyday for the month of May. So far, on day 3, I have written once – twice if you count this very moment. During the midst of signing up for the challenge, I was accepted to write for a company called Chanillo . I submitted a query for a novel that’s been brewing in my head for over 5 years. I did not think they would accept it and I was certain I was right after waiting over a month to hear back. I was wrong. Now, I have promised to write a chapter each month, and now my novel, which would have never happened, and seemed more like fun time, is now work.

That’s good, right? I have such anxiety over the entire thing. I have started writing and had written previously for the novel (*for* as if I work for it – haha), so I am trying to organize those thoughts and write my beginning preface.

I am excited to have been accepted. Especially since I do not always think I am any good at writing as a whole. Sometimes I think I am amazing, and sometimes I think I stink. I suppose all writers feel the same way at some point.

So today marks the beginning of something that could be great. I am excited, scared, and might take up drinking copious amounts of wine to cope. (That’s like two drinks a week for me – watch out, I’m a wild one).

If you would like to check out my future endeavor, as I cannot post any writing to my blog related to the novel, you can check it out HERE. It’s upcoming, so I have not posted my first piece yet. I still have some details to work out.

Thank you all so much. This counts as my 10 minutes, right?

Regret: A Poem

Hello, readers. I’ve been slacking. My goal was to write a poem everyday. So far, I’ve written five, I think. Last year I wrote four so I’ve upped the ante. But I’m not here to please you. The first line of this poem was to start an actual paragraph; a description. Instead, it started a poem. Enjoy.

I haven’t written in very long.

I’m a sad song

You listen to cry

But then forget

The promise you made

Fills a heart with regret

You listen

You yearn

You cry

You burn

Your deceit is gripping

On a love that’s slipping

Don’t fear what’s gone

Or what’s not been

Fear what’s here

For regret is a sin

I Was Brainwashed Once.

I have a rant. You can say what you want, but please, for the love of all things, stop judging.

This rant has been building in me for years. I hope you’re ready.

I have a dog. He has a big head, large muscles, and he is very sensitive. He knows when you don’t like him. He knows when people are sad, mad, happy, and all our other mix of emotions. He will gladly lick your face, clean the inside of your ears, and sniff your feet. He cuddles. He leans on you and uses your body as a recliner. He wants to be with you at all times. When he can’t, he patiently waits for your arrival.

He scared me at first. I was unsure. I was worried that he would turn vicious. I was brainwashed.

Before my dog, I was a volunteer at a humane society. I was one of their dog trainers. They saw a large number of dogs. Some dogs could be saved, some could not. I’ve seen all types of dogs. When I walked into his cage, I was nervous. He came from a bad past.

He sat in the corner and watched as I entered his space. I didn’t make eye contact. I came in, locked the cage, and took a seat on the cold floor. I sat against the cage wall. I sat away from him. I was nervous.

He walked over slowly. He was sniffing. I kept my eyes directly ahead. When he was close, he stopped, then he sat. I always kept a stash of delicious treats in my hand and a training device in the other. When his butt hit the floor, I clicked my device and put a treat next to his paw. I stayed looking ahead. He stayed focused on me. This routine kept until the treats were gone.

I was still nervous. What if all the news reals were true? What if he snapped and went for my throat? What if his jaw locked and I couldn’t break free? The “what ifs” flooded my brain.

His tail wagged so hard it thumped on the concrete. He was staring at me, waiting for my next move.

During his life, humans beat him, shocked him, left him out in the Florida heat, and tied heavy chains around his neck. If there are any “what ifs”, it should be coming from the dog.

He should be wondering if I am going to beat him, shock him, or make him fight for his life. He’s the one who should be nervous.

Instead, he wags his tail. He takes the treats. He waits for me. He watches my behavior. He trusts me. He is still hopeful. He has so much love that he can’t help but be happy even though I might be the next human that does him harm.

I hold out my hand. He leans forward, sniffs, and licks my skin. His tongue can’t help it so he licks my arm. His tail wags harder and he licks my face. I give him a gentle pat and before you know it, we are playing, cuddling, and loving with all our hearts.

It was in that moment my closed, brainwashed heart became bigger. I fell in love with a breed that is hated for how they look. They are hated for their sheer power. They are hated and they are feared. When a human is scared, it is the most scariest place to be.

I love my dog. When I first saw his face, I knew he would be great. However, the media is a powerful thing. My nerves took over, once again. I knew my new love would become big. I knew he would become my greatest protector. I knew his strength would make others and even me stand on edge.

He tested me.

He is two now. He loves, he plays, and he shows people he isn’t what the media says. He isn’t what the scared human creates. He is just a dog.

I saw him change a mind today. He changes minds all the time, but something struck me with this lady.

I come out of my car. She is standing on my steps that lead to my home. She is nervous. I see me standing there, opening a cage, and not knowing if I would leave.

He approached. She asked if he was vicious because “he looks vicious”. I calmly said no. He’s a lover. He licked her hand gently, as if he knew he should. “Here, let me lick your hand so you can know I’m not mean, I just look that way”.

She smiled and giggled.

A wet nose and a soft tongue can make the worst cynic smile. She followed me into my home and while we talked, my dog sat and waited. She commented on how good he was and I said, they all are. We just have to give them a chance.

My rant is fueled by my own previous bias. My rant is fueled by a public who knows only what they read and what they hear. My rant is fueled by all the abused dogs who only want to love. They only want to be friends. They only want to teach us to love the same; without bias.

A large head, large muscles, and a strong will mean only one thing to me now – a dog with a heart large enough to change a brainwashed mind.

I own a pit bull. He owns my heart.

This is Einstien.

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Losing My Way

I’ve lost my way time and time again.

Searching through the ruble,

wiping the dust from my shins

I often find a clearing,

the light shines through

I start to climb to freedom,

hope fills the air

I reach for a boulder,

to make my last steps

It was an illusion. 

It was never there.

I lose my grip on the vanishing air.

My feet slip below me

The darkness settles in

And now I’ve lost my way

time and time again.

A Small Town

I’ve been pondering this thought for a while now: learning more about small towns and what they teach me. It enters my mind when a sign tells me to slow and I enter a scene straight from a movie. Buildings line a two-lane street; cars parked in front of lined-up shops. A single flashing red light in the middle of the road. A train track running parallel to the main drive. A place where the livestock out number the residents. The thought trickles in when I see a worn down home or an abandoned building. I wonder how a small town even manages to survive. It looks as though the entire place will dry up with one swoop of a money drought. They will leave everything behind, never to step place in another small town again. Dried-up, they will say. 

It is then I start to talk to the people of those small towns and I see the determination, the sheer will on their faces. They refuse to give up, to turn-a-cheek, or to give in to a city way of life. The believe in their town so much, they are willing to do what is needed in order for it to survive. They find the money somehow. They turn to their faith. They turn to each other. 

It makes me think how we look at life and see something falling apart, and instead of doing what needs to be done to fix it, we just toss it aside and find something that we believe is better. If we would have just tried a little harder, perhaps we could have saved it. We could have endured. 

I suppose I look at some of my decisions in life and wonder what would of happened if I maintained the small town mentality. What would have happened if I had just stuck through, toughed it out, made do with what I had. 

However, there is another quality of small town people that I enjoy and it is their knowing of how to handle regret. You don’t. Not to say you don’t handle anything, but if you don’t have it, then you don’t need to handle it. 

So I suppose I could regret a million things, and dwell on what was, or I can gather some small town mentality and push for another day, make the most of what I have, and learn to be comfortable with what I got. I can’t ponder on the should haves’ and the should have nots’. I just need to be. What’s done is done. 

I learn more things in a small town than I ever have living in a big city. And perhaps, it is that I learn things on both sides of the fence, but there’s a side of the fence that is much slower, and because of that I have more time to learn. Perhaps. 

Many lessons have been through this hard head of mine. They have swealtered, diminished, and they have flourished. However, something about seeing how this great land thrives, gets my brain wondering. What does a small town really teach me?

  • You can’t feel sorry for people and all the things you think they don’t have. For those are the ones that have it all.
  •  When you go through a small town, think of all the people who stay to make it great. They have loyalty, respect, ethics, values, morals, and most of all, they have love. 
  • They live without regret. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. 
  • They strive hard to make a life for those around them. If you don’t have each other, you have no one. 

Just some random thoughts for today. 

Finding Peace

I have made a huge change in my life. It involved separating from my spouse and moving across many states to begin a new life with my family. I quit a job that housed some magnificent co-workers. I left friends. 

What I find, as I sit here in a quiet house surrounded by the peace of nature, is I left chaos. I left negativity. What I hope the most is I left my own negative self thousands of miles away. 

It’s only been two days, but the sounds of nature, the crisp air, and the peace of my surroundings leave me feeling as if I could never be angry anymore. 

I read posts on social media and find myself not instantly reacting. I find myself pausing and thinking about why and where the negativity stems. I breathe and only hope that person finds the same peace I have found. 

We all deserve solitude. We all deserve a break from the negativity, the hate, and the drama. 

What remains life’s question is how we find it. But for most of us, we know where it is. Unfortunately, we fight the urge to be where we need to be. 

I did that for many years. Deep in my soul, I knew exactly where I was supposed to be, but I fought it. I sought solace in other areas only to find myself in chaos. I was always distraught and I thrived on negativity. It wasn’t what I really wanted or where I knew I should really be. 

Many of us settle. We decide life will not get any better and we skip out on our dreams. We run away from our true intentions. We decide that we are not able to make change. 

This is wrong. You can change. You, my dear reader, can do whatever you want. You don’t have to live in chaos. You do not have to reside with negativity. You do not have to remain. You can set yourself free. 

It will take courage. It will take all your strength. You will lose parts of yourself. 

However, you will gain so much more. 

So to those who feel trapped, beaten down, and lost in your own mind, ask yourself if it’s worth it. Search for what you really want and take the first step to make it happen. Never settle. Never give in. Seek what you desire. 

Where there is hope, there is way. 

I’m A Writer. What’s Your Dream? 

If you’ve ever had a dream, you should follow it, no matter how crazy you think it is. 

That sounds corny, doesn’t it. It is – sorta. It may be the corniest statement you ever read. However, all the successful people utter those words consistently. They preach them when ever they can. So why shouldn’t you? 

My life is a serious of tragedies. One more pathetic than the next. 

That has to be the worst statement ever written. However, the ones without a dream in the world, utter this like clockwork everyday. They preach it. The negativity spews like lava from a boiling volcano. 

I progress everyday. Not a moment goes by where I don’t think about what I really want. Every second I wonder how I can achieve my goal. I always have a plan. I always have an option. I even make plans when all is going wrong and my luck is like a butterfly I try to catch with my broken fingers. 

I never stop pondering how, what, when, where, and why. When people ask what I want to be when I grow up, I tell them the same story. 

It’s the things I do in between my time as a person working toward my goal to the person living my dream. Those moments in between help foster the stories I long to tell. They help me grow. So I’ll take whatever experience I can get. In the mean time, I stay driven for my one, true purpose; to become what I’ve always dreamed. 

So what will it be? Will you have a dream or will you ooze negativity? 

The Struggle 

All who know me, know my mind is a dark place. The only true solace is my fingers on the keyboard. It is a sweet release. Poems and short stories seem the way to go for myself. I hope you enjoy. 

I look ahead,

I cannot see. 

I look behind,

I’m drowning. 

I see my soul,

Its darkness seeps. 

It oozes out, 

It cuts deep. 

I reach for life, 

I grab at death.

I open my eyes, 

Before my last breath.