Liars....

I don't understand why people can't tell the truth.
I mean;.. I get the fact that sometimes telling the truth hurts...
Liars.... it sucks for a second........ maybe a minute when the truth first comes out.
But when you lie for a long time... when you realize everything it a lie... it crushes your spirit.

Fuck I hate liars.

Asking For Help.....

I am a strong person.

I have ALWAYS been raised that way.

My parents always raised me to stand on my own two feet, to be smart, to work hard, to never expect anything from anyone, and it's tiring.

It's difficult being an adult. As children we can't wait for the adventure... for the excitement.... for the fairytale. We have this idea of what life is supposed to be. Unfortunately life rarely turns out the way we think it will when we are children. There are trials. Sometimes these trials are small, losing a loved one, having a heart broken, or... not getting into the school we want. But, more often than not, they are things far more serious. For me it was when I lost my first child and I felt as if the world had stopped spinning, when my husband and I could no longer enjoy each others company without being drunk, for walking out the door.... not knowing if I could ever stand on my own two feet again, trying to live on my own for the very first time of my adult life and not knowing if I could afford it, learning to trust in people... not always thinking they are going to screw me over, falling in love again... hoping that this time my heart won't be shattered into a million pieces, and realizing that I am broke and can't afford my life.

It's scary asking for help. You have to let yourself be completely vulnerable. You have to share a secret with someone... anyone who can save you. You are putting yourself out there.... naked... and asking someone to cover you. It is humiliating... terrifying... and heartbreaking.

I should know better than to be afraid to ask for help. I watched my family crumble because of their pride. I watched us lose everything due to the fact that they couldn't just.... humble themselves... face the music... and ask for help.

It's a lesson I should have learned... and yet I still waited till the last minute to ask.

But the fact that my request was taken... and accepted... made me feel that much more of an open and honest person.

One of the things that I have learned from my ex-husband is to be an honest person, to be real, and to always be the person that doesn't just shove things under the rug.

I have done really good with this, and I feel as if it has made my life better. But yet, I was still afraid to tell the truth about the situation I was in.

I feel like I can breathe again, and I also feel an overwhelming feeling of love and admiration for the people that are in my life. Not one person has looked down on me, not one person has ignored me, and not one person has told me I am an idiot.

Once again I feel like I am the luckiest person in the world. I have amazing friends that are so supportive and loving. I have the greatest family in the world who support me through thick and thin, and I am thankful for myself. I don't say it enough.... but even though I have gone through a lot of really crappy situations... somehow I have kept a semi-optimistic view on life. I don't think the world is going to end everytime bad things are happening... I don't give up.... it's tiring.... but I have so much to grateful for.


Thank you... Everyone....

Sometimes it's the little thing....

On May 24th, eight years ago... I stood in a delivery room and I waited for a life to be brought into the world.

Eva Lee Hunter.

I can remember my sister calling me, telling me that she was in labor. I can remember her calling me and telling me that she was on the way to the hospital. I can remember watching my beautiful niece coming into the world. I watched as the doctors took her away, as they worked on her because she wasn't breathing. I remember feeling the complete terror that there was nothing they could do. I touched her hand as they wheeled her to the top of the building where they air lifted her to a different hospital that could save her life. In one moment this perfect person.... that had yet to live.... was in so much danger.

On May 24th, 2013 Eva turned eight years old.  She survived her birth. I am so grateful for that.

She makes me smile every moment I see her. She is perfect in every single way.

Yesterday on her birthday, I called her and she asked me if I would be there for her birthday party (which is tomorrow) and I told her that I didn't think I could make it. She was in tears she was so upset. But.... Tomrrow I will be making the drive to Jackson, after working an eight hour shift at work, only to be able to stay for one day... just so that I can see my beautiful niece on her birthday.

There are times when life is horrible. There are times when life feels like.... there is nothing worth it. And then I look at this beautiful amazing person. A person that looks at me like I am the greatest thing in the world. A person who wants me to be there. A person who always asks me when I will come see her. She is perfect. She makes me care. She makes me realize that everything is worth it.

Happy birthday to my beautiful little girl. I hope my surprise goes over well.

Save Me

Falling in love... it's this awesome feeling...
It's butterflies in your stomach when you first see them.
It's your chest getting tight when they say your name.
It's laughing when you have had a bad day.
It's wishing they were there when you are sad.
It's smiling when nothing else has made you smile all day.
It's thinking about them every moment.
It's wanting to share something.
It's sitting there and just wishing that they were there.
It's getting up early to do your hair just right.
It's picking the perfect outfit.
It's... shaving your legs.
It's about wanting to make them smile.
It's about wanting to cry, and knowing they will hold you anyways.
It's about being able to sit there... and not having to say anything because they already know.
It'a about being yourself and knowing that they love you even more because of it.


There's something about falling in love. Each one of us wants it. Even if we fight it... we want that thing in our life that is constant.

I never belived in fate.... or soul mates... I never believed that god had a plan. In fact.... god and I have always had a difficult relationship.

So what this is... I have no clue.

But it has redefined my opinions on everything in the world.

It has brought me the most happiness that I have ever felt in my life. But it has also brought me the worst pain.

Nothing is worse than meeting the man of my dreams..... then realizing that it's not going to happen.

Another reason why fairy tales don't exactly exisit.

Angels Sing

A broken woman stands alone.
No tears are shed.
Inside she's dying.
She's trying to hide.
Numbness provides the strength she projects.
As she draws her last breath she does not object.
Her pieces fall seperately to the ground.
Laying there shattered on the ground.
She finds the peace to be herself.
She cries so beautifully, the angels sing.
And finally... she is free.
A broken woman, no strength she shows.
She lies in pieces, with such bliss.
Her burden is gone.
And the angels sing.

 

Survivor

I am a survivor.

I have survived the fear of losing everything when my father lost his job. I survived when my mother quit hers. I survived when they put all of their savings into a small party store. I survived when that party store took all of their time away from me. I survived never being noticed. I survived dropping out of high school. I survived home schooling myself. I survived feeling as if I was invisible to everyone around me.I survived feeling as if I didn't belong. I survived a childhood lost. I survived having to grow up too fast.

I survived working two jobs to help support my family at a young age. I survived when my parents lost our house. I survived having to move from the only home I had ever known to a two bedroom trailer. I survived when our party store failed. I survived when my parents lost everything. I survived watching my parents turn on each other. I survived when the one person that I could lean on, my fiance, left me. I survived having absolutely nothing.

I survived living in an unfinished basement with no walls and no doors. I survived watching a rift filled with resentment grow between my parents. I survived feeling as if the world had ended. I survived watching the only life I had ever known fall to pieces around me.

I survived moving away from home, with a complete stranger. I survived starting a whole new life without my family. I survived trying to learn how to live again.

I survived learning to trust again. I survived letting someone get close to me. I survived falling in love. I survived learning to lean on someone again. I survived watching my parents marriage end. I survived trying to realize that it didn't mean that I would have the same fate. I survived feeling as if I no longer fit in with my family. I survived feeling as if they no longer cared if I was there or not. I survived feeling as if my mother never wanted me around. I survived learning what it really meant to be in a relationship.

I survived losing a child. I survived my relationship becoming rocky. I survived watching the one person who taught me to trust again, turn into someone I couldn't talk to. I survived the insults. I survived the fights. I survived the tears. I survived walking out the door, and never looking back.

I survived the fear of the unknown. I survived learning how to live on my own for the very first time. I survived learning to stand on my own two feet. I survived the end of my marriage. I survived the idea of being alone.

I survived allowing someone into my heart. I survived learning to trust someone all over again. I survived sharing my every thought, my every feeling, my entire being with someone. I survived  the first time I ever fully allowed someone to see every part of me.

I have survived every obstacle that has been thrown in my way. I have survived every hurt, and every trial. I feel as if I have done nothing but survive since I was the age of ten. Each step I have taken and each choice I have made has been nothing but just a survival tactic....

I have survived thinking that I don't have to do it anymore, that the days of just.... surviving are gone. I have survived thinking that I get to just live now. I have survived truly believing that everything is going to be okay. I have survived thinking that finally.... I can stop holding my breath. I will survive knowing that it wasn't true.

It's what I do. I just... survive. It's all I have ever known. And to think that the future would be different.... is just to have to learn all over again how to survive.

Cinderella.... Sort Of....

Okay, so in the story of Cinderlla she lost a shoe.... and in my case it was an earring but hey... the story kinda fits.

Yesterday was Mothers Day. When I woke up I wasn't really thinking about it. But as I lay in bed... slowly my brain started working over the same few thoughts over and over again. Before I knew it I had been laying there awake for an hour. So I got up... and moved to the couch. I sat there staring out the window... letting myself get into a worse mood. Before I knew it I wasn't just thinking about it being Mothers Day but I was thinking about money, and work, and pretty much everything that is kind of going poorly for me right now. I was spiralling. By the time I left for work I was pretty much in one of the crappiest moods I have ever been in.

I felt terrible about it because everyone at work was in such a good mood. So I got some coffee... tried to perk up... and then got to work. I focused on as many tasks as I could, forced myself to laugh at my co-workers jokes, and smiled... even though I really didn't feel like smiling.

In the last hour at work I noticed that I was missing my left earring. Which under normal circumstances wouldn't normally upset me. But these earrings were special. I wear them when I am having a bad day, I wear them when I need a little luck, or when I just need something to perk me up. I they are my favorite earrings. They were a gift from one of my closest friends. So when I realized that my earring wasn't in my ear it was pretty much the final straw of the day. My eyes started to sting and I thought I was going to lose it.

So I took a deep breath and jumped into action. I did a grid search of my entire store with my eyes firmly locked on the ground. Unfortunately we had just dust mopped the floor and thrown out the trash. I had to come to terms that my earring.... was gone... forever. There was no chance that I was ever going to find it. So I texted my friend. I told the story. I went home and just... went to bed. I wanted that stupid day to be over.

When I woke up today I was still kinda grumpy but, after being at work for a little while my friend called me and told me not to sweat losing the earring....
Then my phone started buzzing with some pretty awesome news ( That I won't disclose at this point).
So when I was on my way home I was in a pretty good mood. Yesterdays unhappiness was long forgotten. I was looking forward to doing some cleaning... maybe some painting... and then.... as if it were fate I walked into my apartment, kicked off my shoes, and stepped directly on my my missing earring.

I feel like it's a sign that things are going to start turning around again.

Mother's day.... not always a day of joy.

 

                                                                  
Mothers Day is particularly difficult for me.

In my younger years I never wanted children. I didn't want to be tied down.

Once I got into a commited relationship I couldn't wait till I could bring a child into this world. Adam and I constantly argued about when we would start a family.

When I got pregnant I was so happy. I can remember getting phone calls from my entire family on Mothers Day wishing me happy thoughts. I couldn't wait to be an actual mother.

When I got pregnant I made a binder. It had a section for what to expect each week, what I would need to take to the hospital when I went into labor, all the things that I would need to purchase before my baby came into the world, and in the very back of the binder I had a section where I would write a letter to my child every week. I wanted my baby to know how much I loved it. I was so excited to bring this child into the world, I couldn't wait to hold it, and to watch it grow.

The day I lost my child broke my heart into so many pieces that I never believed that I would smile again. I was completely destroyed. I was three months pregnant when I sat before my doctor, by myself, and she told me that my child was dead, and then asked me if I wanted her to call my husband for me.

I wish I could say that I have never had that feeling since. Unfortunately that was not my last miscarriage. It never gets easier to lose a child. Even if you have never held that child or looked upon it's face.... you love that child with every ounce of your heart. You do everything that you can to ensure it's safety. To be able to do nothing is the worst feeling in the world.

And this is why today... Mothers Day... is pretty much unbearable for me.

                                                                   (Gale Shissler)

Falling In Love.

Falling in love.... it's great. There is no better feeling in the world right....?

In real life there are a lot better feelings than realizing you are in love with someone... who you shouldn't be in love with. I mean seriously... that moment that you realize that you have fallen for someone that either will never feel the same way, or you shouldn't feel that way for, or is someone that irritates you almost as much as you feel for them... well in that moment you would probably be happier enjoying a bowl of ice cream or the first bite of homemade fried chicken. Because food makes you feel better than the impending doom/love that you feel for that person.

Love is a funny thing. Too often we confuse love with lust.... and even more often than that we confuse love with being compliant. It would be so easy if there was a test you could take to tell you if you really were in love... or if it was just a false positive.

My first love was a boy I grew up with that broke my heart. I loved him because he was beautiful and he said nice things to me.

My second love was a boy that promised me that he would love me forever. He became a part of my family and my family loved him and so... I loved him.

My third love.... was my ex-husband. He wanted to love me, and so I loved him.

Each one of these people I wanted something from. I wanted love, I wanted to be needed, I wanted someone to realize that I existed, and I wanted someone to just.... be there.

My fourth love... well let's just say I was jaded, and when he told me that he loved me for the first time I almost attempted to jump from a moving car. Just so I could run away from anything that had the L word in it.

Love is supposed to be this amazing thing that brings two people together and makes them whole. Unfortunately that isn't always the case.

It'd be amazing if all love stories started with we met in a crowded room, our eyes met, and we just knew.....
In reality there is no way to know how you feel without time. Time and a LOT of work.

In real life... love is more like you meet somone, and then one day you look at the person and realize that you love them. You might not have been looking for it, you may not want it, but eventually you can't fight it.

17 Versus 26

Life is very different from when I was 17.... and life is now at almost 26. This has been made abundantly clear in many.... many different ways.

17: My nights were spent in the company of many friends doing crazy things.
26: My nights are spent cleaning/working on art/falling asleep on my couch while watching t.v.

17: I worked two jobs, I got out of work anywhere between 11 pm to 2 am and still made it to work at my second job at 6 am without any complications.
26: I hit the snooze button on my alarm for at least two hours before I have to actually wake up.

17: My idea of a good time was driving cars recklessly fast in places that you aren't suppose to.
26: My idea of a good time is staying in and cooking.

17: Sleep was a thing that I got only when there wasn't anything else to do.
26: If I don't get sleep I am angry.

17: My room was always a mess
26: Bitches you can eat off my floor

17: Cooking was for women that were old, married, and had children.
26: Cooking is one of the best past times of all time.

17: Quitting smoking was a matter of just realizing I didn't want to anymore
26: Ahhhh.... I should quit but.... why?

17: I was a sexy beast.
26: I am now a sweaty beast.

17: My boobs were perfect.
26: My boobs are... well.... not 17 year old boobs.


The point is there are a lot of changes between being young and being... not so young. But I think the one that I am most depressed about is my will power.
I mean... I worked two jobs and still found time to have a good time.
I could do anything that I set my mind to.
I had will power.

Now it may seem that I am rambling or merely complaining but I really had to make this point before I told the story that I am about to tell.

So, I am trying to get healthier, and trying to get in better shape. So I decided the best first start was to do a cleanse.

The cleanse consists of eating nothing but a carefully constucted soup for three weeks, no drinking, and no processed sugar.... easy right? Well.... not so much.

I went shopping and bought all of the ingrediants to make this soup. I was so excited as I was making it. It smelled AMAZING. I was really proud of myself for actually taking the step to better my physical health. I was doing good.

So day 1, I ate the soup which was really good. I was still really pumped about this whole thing. It was exactly what my body needed. Part way through day 1 I started to get hungry.... in fact it felt as if I hadn't ate all day.... I was DYING..... So.... I went and bought McDonalds. Yea... okay I can start tomorrow. I will remember to bring soup to work with me for those cravings during the day.

Day 2 which is really supposed to be day one since I completely failed at day 1 originally. I got up early, I meditated, I ate soup, I went to work, and then I got home. And realized that there were four completely ice cold beers in my refrigerator... and they looked gooooooood. I think I opened my refrigerator about twenty times before finally caving and grabbing one. And the first taste of that ice cold beer was so amazing and fulfilling.... I didn't even feel guilty.

So... I guess Day 3 will be starting Day 1 all over again. At least age hasn't allowed me to give up on trying. But... like I said... willpower... WHERE HAS IT GONE?????