The Struggle is Real

Due to all the medical diagnoses, I have had thrown at me over the last few years, I have become accustomed to not feeling very well from time to time. Especially in relation to the weather when extreme cold or heat can affect how my joints and fibromyalgia flare up. There are days though, like the last few, where for inexplicable reasons I cannot even begin to fathom, I wake up feeling as though I’ve been hit by a Mack truck in my sleep and left in a ditch on the side of some rainy road. Everything hurts and I am so fatigued that even walking a few steps is as though I’ve run several miles.


That little picture to the right says it all. Busted can of biscuits indeed. You would think that with all the advancements in medicine and technology that we have made today, that something like chronic pain and fatigue could be helped, if not cured entirely. Instead, those of us who suffer with it must endure the criticism of people who doubt there is anything wrong with us at all and inept doctors who think all we want are narcotics for our pain.

I call bullshit on that. I know there are definitely people out there who use so called medical reasons as a way to get heavy duty pain killers like morphine and to get the hook up for a medical marijuana card. But why loop us all into the same stereotype? I for one have never taken a single pain pill stronger than an ibuprofen, for my fibro (I’ve had stronger drugs after surgery and dental work, but only short-term) and even though I was prescribed the typical fibro drugs like Cymbalta and Gabapentin, I never took one. Why? Because I hate medication. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life waking up to a Sunday through Saturday pill reminder container and having to consume a bunch of them just to exist. 61c0a4d3dedbeca909692e762961bcf4--funny-thoughts-life-thoughts

What I want, is my life back. I want to be able to join my daughter on a hike, or visit the local zoo and walk all the way through it without having to stop every five feet at a bench “to rest”. I want to go grocery shopping without feeling like I should be using one of their little ride around carts. There are of course aspects to my health that I am not mentioning here that contribute to part of my issues, like my weight for example. But that deserves a whole blog post all it’s own.

I used to be one of the most active people around. It was nothing for me to walk 5 or 10 miles just to get where I was going because I didn’t own a car at the time. I’d go out dancing all night and into the wee hours of the morning, barely sleep an hour or two and be back out on that dance floor the next night. Rinse and repeat, all weekend long. I moved a mattress and box spring up a flight of stairs into my own apartment once because I was single and had no help. It was a struggle and I almost fell down those stairs several times, but I had the strength and endurance to pull it off. Now? I’d be lucky to lift a corner of my mattress up off the box spring, without feeling the need to collapse on said bed for an hour nap after. What the hell happened to me?

I have no answers to that question and I am sure there are others out there like me suffering from the same afflictions wondering the same thing. On behalf of all of us suffering from everywhere, I’d like to beseech the scientists and doctors of the world, to please, please find us something that helps. Better yet, a cure. We want to live too.


So Dog-Gone Cute

After losing my two dogs and a cat a little while after, I was pretty sure I was never going to get any more animals. The pain of losing them is not something I felt ready to experience again. It only took gazing into a pair of sea-green eyes to change my mind. He was 4 months old at the time and obviously had experienced abuse already in his short little life. His eyes were sad, and he trembled a lot. I rescued him on Valentines Day and never looked back. Due to the abuse, he was never properly socialized, and it shows whenever a stranger comes around, or whenever anyone but me tries to handle him too much. He can be quite the aggressive little man, and despite knowing that I have to watch him extra careful because of it, I couldn’t love him more than I do now. About 5 months ago, my girls and I decided that he seemed a little lonely and could probably use a playmate.

We adopted an 8-week old female puppy of the same breed and at first, it didn’t look good. He wasn’t happy with the new addition and would growl and circle her a lot. It didn’t take long though, and now they are the best of friends. Even though I still miss my other pet-kids very much, these cute little devils have helped ease my pain. Together, they are quite the handful, and there is never a dull moment. Say hello to Pita, and Piper. (Pita btw, is an acronym for pain in the ass lol)

I know I’m really chubby
But I’m oh so cute
Big chocolate brown eyes
And a button nose to boot!

I have black spots
On a small white body
Also tons of energy
And always have to potty

My ears stand straight up
Kind of like a bat
But when they flop over
A lot of “awwws!” I get for that

I give friendly kisses
And always want to play
Even when you’d rather
I’d wait until it’s day

You said you’d never want
Another dog again
The day that you lost
Your two best friends

But then I came along
Helping change your mind
With a lot of love to give
And a wiggly behind

I bring a smile to your face
Even though I’m really hyper
I couldn’t be more pleased
You decided to name me Piper

And then there is Pita
He is my bae
His name is an acronym
For pain in the A!

Together we bring you joy
And a fullness in your heart
Always your faithful companions
Never to be apart.

Most Sublime

It’s been a while
says the pen to the hand
let’s see if you can remember
how to respond to my command

Let the ink flow black
onto this blank white page
emptying your tortured soul
of all of its pent up rage

Some days will be better
others not so much
but I promise to ease your pain
with just this simple touch

You know what to do
angsty words that rhyme
slung together in half sentences
cutesy poetry most sublime


Just Rockin’ Along

So last night I finally bit the bullet and watched the movie remake of Baywatch. I’m not sure if I was actually expecting it to be any better than the show, but it really wasn’t. Don’t get me wrong it definitely had some funny moments in it, but all too often it was more about flashing pectoral muscles, girls asses, and cleavage shots. Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson had some good bromance chemistry going with Zac Efron and it’s probably all that managed to save the movie in my eyes. My daughters think it should have been named Baewatch due to Zac Efron being so handsome. lol, I cannot find fault with their thoughts on that. lol, I think both men are both phenomenal actors, but that they don’t take the right roles. In fact, with Dwayne, it is almost like they have decided to cast him in every remake ever made.

Hell, it won’t be long before you see a trailer for a Twilight remake with Dwayne Johnson cast as playing both Edward the vampire and Jacob the werewolf as well as every other character in the movie, Eddie Murphy style, because well… he is “The Rock” as though that is all it takes to make a movie now. Big muscles and an arched eyebrow? Ding! You’re hired! 😛


Despite all that, if someone is looking for a funny movie, with some adult themes, and can overlook it having any real plot to it, then, by all means, I recommend you go rent Baywatch and have yourself some laughs. I did!

If you’ve seen the movie already, what were your thoughts? I look forward to hearing them!

The Great Monday Bail Out

I am having a serious case of the Monday blahs today. Despite the fact that it is mostly sunny outside, that is definitely not my disposition today. Internally I am more of a pouring rain, with no umbrella and some asshole just splashed you with his car kind of mentality. I woke up this way, unfortunately. Though I don’t believe it to be entirely my fault. My next to eldest son started an argument with me last night right before bed. An argument that we have had plenty of times before and I do not sense anything changing anytime soon.

It’s about his future. A future that I think he should take more seriously but that he disagrees, and would rather fill his head with fluff and girls. Not that girls aren’t great. I happen to think we are pretty damn awesome. Unfortunately though, not the ones he chooses. My son fancies himself a “gamer.” His definition of that word and mine are totally different. In his mind, which I often refer to as “Fantasy Island,” he believes that he could make a living off it, if only he had thousands of dollars of the right equipment. Equipment I might add, that in the gaming world changes almost monthly and must be constantly upgraded to keep up with the growing demand of higher and higher tech. Money he wouldn’t even have to spend unless he had an actual career. My definition of a gamer, or what a gamer should be is someone who plays games in their spare time as a hobby. Key word being spare there. To my son though, gaming is not a spare anything…it is thee thing.


He’s on his computer every morning before he even fully wakes up. He stays on it all day long, and he jumps on it the minute he gets home from his part time job. In his own words.. his very life is that computer. His porn is on it, his friends “live” on it, and apparently so do the girls he chooses to align himself with. Girls that he will only know for a few short days before they are already declaring their love for one another and talking about having babies together. By know, I should clarify that they have spoken a total of maybe 5 or 6 times on skype or some other video type channel, and are now madly in love. Picture me rolling my eyes right here because I can assure you that I am.

Just a year ago he was mad about the idea of joining the Air Force and gaining a career for himself as a paramedic. Now that is something to strive for. Something to be proud of. What happened to that dream you ask? Girls! Fucking girls. He met one in Cali and they fell madly in “like” and decided to name their children already. The thing was, she already had several other online paramours and his little heart got broken. Despite the fact that I warned him what would happen before it did, I might add. Within a week of their “break-up”, he had found himself another one. Same thing happened. I kid you not, it was almost an identical situation. From here he moved on three more times, and this week, if you can believe it, he is back to lusting after the original first girl again despite nothing with her having changed at all. They are meant to be, blah blah blah. Believe me, I have heard it all. Military thoughts are gone, as well as any thoughts towards college. Now all he talks about is saving up money for a bus ticket and traveling to be with her in Cali with no job, no place to live and only his hopes and dreams of their relationship to sustain him for nourishment. At this point you are probably shaking your head and thinking “teenagers”, right? I would be too. Except my son is 24. Yeah.. go ahead… shake your head now. Or pick your jaw up off the floor. I know I do daily. This same 24-year-old lives at home, doesn’t know how to drive yet, doesn’t do his own laundry or cooking, and barely does chores like taking out the trash or doing a few dishes. Yet thinks he is going to run off and meet this girl who also lives with her parents and in her 20’s and they are going to just be madly in love and start making babies. Where the hell did I go wrong in my parenting?!


As a mother, this is a nightmare. As a bystander this is moronic. Talking gets me nowhere except screamed at and bullied. When I was younger and having kids, people were always giving me their opinions about how girls are much harder than boys. Well, for the record, I would like to call bullshit on that myth!

I guess it’s out of my hands now though since he refuses to listen, and is legally an adult. In six months he will be out the door and probably be hitching a ride across state lines to go knock on this girls parent’s house and profess his undying obsession for their daughter. Anyone have bail money? Ha!


Yeah…I went there.. laugh







Whisper Me to Sleep


I was sitting here attempting to have what most refer to as a lazy Sunday afternoon when it occurred to me that after the events I mentioned in my last blog post, I had a difficult time relaxing at all for the longest time. I was so stressed that sleeping became something more like full-time insomnia and I was up later and later every night, and staying in bed later and later every morning, until one day I didn’t get up until 2 pm in the afternoon, and it was then that I knew something needed to change. During the day I had no issues nodding off during a TV show, or reading a book. Even driving became more difficult as I noticed I would feel like nodding off if the drive was longer than just a few minutes at a time.


I did a little googling and came upon some self-help videos that offered relaxation methods and a type of guided sleep meditation hypnosis. I started listening to them with headphones and found that they did indeed help, though there was no actual hypnosis going on. From there I stumbled onto what became a magic category for me. It was called autonomous sensory meridian response, or otherwise known as ASMR. Have you ever gotten a delicious little shiver, or tingle up your spine when someone whispers close into your ears or touches your hair? Or maybe a certain sound sets you off, like crinkling plastic or popping bubbles? Those are all examples of having an autonomous sensory meridian response to a stimulus.


If you ever search youtube looking for ASMR videos, you will be amazed at just how many there are. When I first started there was not near as many, and they were pretty basic, or what I prefer to call normal. These days even I am shocked at some of the weird things people do and view as ASMR. There are role play ones, and ones that have no voices at all, just sounds of various objects. Most of the time, the ones you find and listen to are perfectly fine. Other times, you may stumble on to some new ASMR artists that are taking the boundary lines and crossing the hell out of them. Turning the art into something weird or sexual. I steer clear of those.

My personal preference for listening and relaxing is the binaural whisper videos where they move from ear to ear. They will read from story books, or just whisper about how to apply makeup or techniques for a relaxing hand massage etc. I almost never actually watch the video or even pay attention to what they are doing. I’m usually asleep within 5 to 10 minutes of their voice. Let me tell you I have never gone to sleep faster. Even before all the stress of 3 years ago began. I highly recommend giving ASMR a try if you have trouble relaxing or falling asleep. It cannot hurt to try if you have already tried everything else with no positive results.

My personal favorite ASMR artist calls herself GentleWhispering. She has a very pleasant manner about her, with a slight Russian accent. Some of her videos are even done in Russian, as that is where she is originally from. For those preferring to learn about ASMR from someone other than me, she has a “What is ASMR” video up from two years ago, that explains it beautifully and in a whispered voice. All of her videos are free, as are the other artists on YouTube. Of course, there are buttons and links where you can donate but it is not pushed or even mentioned other than in the video’s description. She has over a million subscribers, so she must be doing something right.


I’m not affiliated with her, or any other of the ASMR artists, and I’m not trying to promote them, but I am sharing with you, my readers, something that has worked for me and might work for you. I firmly believe that everything is worth trying at least once, or you are not really living.




Poverty is a Place I like to call… Home


Before I can fully explain where I’ve been the last few years, you must come to understand where I am truly from. A little background on me that I never really shared back when I started this blog.


Not what you were expecting? Me either, really. I’ve done some research on this topic and was honestly crushed by what I found. Typically those who come from poverty as children, tend to stay living in that life style throughout their own lifespan. Basically, wherever you start out in life, is where you tend to stay in life. I cannot tell you how sad this makes me. Though I shouldn’t really be surprised considering my own life.

My father was.. for lack of a better word, strange at times. I loved him. Most of the time. I miss him dearly, now that he is departed. I’m pretty sure I have mentioned him in my blog before, but not in any detail. He grew up a poor farm boy in Indiana, the second youngest male in a large family of 3 brothers, and 3 or 4 sisters. Honestly, I do not remember the exact number. He never finished school, and neither did any of his siblings. At one point in their lives, my grandparents gathered them all up and moved them to Arizona, where they still reside to this day. The living ones, anyway. His brothers all decided to get good jobs working in the mines and his sisters married well. My father.. let’s just say he had other ideas of how he was going to make his fortune. It was his “dream” that someday while out walking the mountains he would stumble upon a gold stash or a bunch of uncut diamonds just lying there begging him to find them. Try not to laugh. Okay, don’t. It’s funny as hell. He was kind of cuckoo. I truly believe he was born in the wrong era and should have been from the old west days as one of those shabby little gold prospectors.                                                                          gold_prospector_square_sticker-re6892181b8c34dd5bf3c69c18169ae0d_v9i40_8byvr_324

But I digress. Continue reading