Tug-of-Why Bother?

"I suffer from anxiety, moments of depression. I'm in my head so much, and I'm thinking so much. I'm playing a tug-of-war within in my mind."-Khalid.


I wish someone would grab me by my shoulders and shake the anxious thoughts from my skull or pull me into a hug so tight I forget why I felt so anxious in the first place; the sad truth is I don't anyone that physically checks in on me. Now, that's not to say my two best friends don't check in on me, because they do, which I appreciate more than I can articulate. But, sometimes it would be nice to have someone to sit next to me and let me just cry if I needed to.... no advice, no telling me to "shake it off" or dismissing my feelings/emotions as daily stress, just sit there with me.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not plagued by constant feelings of doom and despair, nor do I always feel overwhelmed. But, at this moment in time I feel very weighed down, and try as I might to think about anything other than what's got me feeling more blue than my hair color, I can't get out of this slump and I have yet to fully get rid of the lump in my throat...

I've been told "You need to get away" or "take time for yourself" or "try to eliminate the stress in your life"; haha funny the one telling me to eliminate the stress is my biggest stressor, is there a tactful way to tell someone that? Yeah, didn't think so. And, I can't take time for myself because every-time I try something happens and I can't take a weekend for myself. Now, I will say a friend of mine was VERY, VERY kind and took me to Austin for the weekend which was very sweet and  unexpected and VERY needed. And, I'm more appreciative than he knows; I wish I could get out of town once a month.

I don't know why I bother to vent or complain or bitch, whatever you want to call it. Everyone has their own set of problems and mine are petty or trivial or whatever and truth be told, aside from a few and I mean VERY few people no one really gives a shit about me or my issues. So, end rant.

I'll **TRY** to be more positive in my next entry. Or I'll just stop with the entries altogether, I haven't decided yet.

Anxiety, First World Problems, Truths and Mourning....

A couple weeks ago I found myself sobbing (read: ugly crying) and hyperventilating in the shower. I  could hear my heart pounding in my ears, but ringing in my ears at the same-time. Every breath I took was not deep enough. And, the shower walls seemed to slowly cave in. Grounding was not working and I had to get out of there. Red-faced from crying, I wrapped my robe around my body, walked into my room and slid onto the floor. I immediately text my best friend asking her "Are you awake?" That was the second anxiety attack I'd had that week, that one was better than the first one I'd had. I'd say I have no clue what triggered the attacks, but in truth I do, and please.... don't tell me "Don't worry about it...." Like, my nervous system is already on overdrive.... I worry ALL.THE.TIME. And, I will say 90% of the time the grounding method works, but sometimes... I have to just ride that terrible wave until it passes. At the moment I'm still on a tiny, semi-awful wave which we'll talk about.


Last weekend I went to ACL for the first time, I know... I know... everyone I know has been to ACL or some kind of music festival. It was HOT AF. But, finding someone to go with me was like asking someone "Hey wanna go to the gynecologist for a free pelvic exam?" everyone had a reason to not go, some had solid legit reasons for not going. Those that had legit reasons, my feelings are not hurt and I totally get the whole having to adult thing. Those that gave me a reason that sounded like BS, yeah..... my feelings are hurt. But, despite the heat, the crowds and my screaming anxiety I had a blast. Truth be told the only reason I went was because A. The ticket was literally given to be for free and I am FOREVER grateful to said beautiful soul (otherwise I would have stayed home that weekend). and B. Billie Eilish was playing and I love her. She was amazing!

Also, I'm not going to name any names because that's not fair to you, but if you want to reach out to us and explain why you didn't tell the truth in the first place cool.... If you're going to lie.... Please keep your posts and pictures off social media and spare hurt feelings.


In December 2014, I lost my black lab mix very suddenly to a massive seizure and it devastated me. This June my black pit mix Gemma, started having Grand-Mal seizures and the rapid diagnosis was epilepsy. She was given Kepra and diazepam. Those medications helped.... until they didn't. She had 6 grand-mal seizures in one day.. Yes, you read that correctly... And the vet's office we took her to lost her (long story, I got her back by a miracle and a kind hearted soul). But, then we switched her medication to phenobarbital and her seizures subsided and she seemed to be kind of back to her happy, bobble-headed self. Until, she started having seizures again about 3 weeks ago, and those grand-mal seizures turned into daily sometimes 5 a day petite-mal seizures. And Gemma's light was gone.
On October 9, I made the decision to put her down. Which, is still something I struggle with. I know there other medications I could have tried in conjunction  with the phenobarbital, but I did not want to keep her on a trial and error cycle. Because, truth be told Gemma, MY Gemma.... the Gemma that leaned into me for attention, the Gemma that bowed to me, that would lay next to my legs on the floor for hours if I let her, the Gemma that got so excited her head would bobble from side to side, the Gemma with that trusting pit-bull smile and tail wag was gone. With a knowing nod from the vet, my mom left the room while I spent a few quiet moments with my girl.... my girl who I spent 3 days looking for. They took her. Was she gone 5 minutes? 5 hours? I don't remember. The vet and his tech brought her back in the room with an IV line in her arm and a soft blanket to lay her on when she ready. He said "We'll administer the medication when you're ready." I wrapped my arms around her and told her "You're a good girl. I love you. Be a good girl." I felt her relax slowly, her body get heavy, then heavier. She was gone. The vet put his hand on my back and told me "Take as much time as you need." As soon as the door closed behind him softly the quiet tears became sobs. I laid next to her, as she'd done so many times next to my legs in the past. I sobbed, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. You were such a good girl. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you." Then a wave of instant regret hit me. Had I made the right decision? What if a combination of different medications could have helped? Then panic. Then more sobbing. How long had I been in the room with her? Was my mom still out there waiting for me? Was it still morning? How long before I stopped hurting? I rubbed her belly and pit one more time before kissing her on the head and covered her eyes. I walked out of the room slowly and another tech locked eyes with me and gave me a knowing nod. My mom was still in the waiting room. The door shut quickly behind me. I knew they were taking her. But where? I hope they were taking care of my girl. I wanted to go back in there with her, but my mom sat me down and told me not to look. I asked the kind woman at the front desk if I could change the spelling of her name for the certificate they were going to send me. Please aching in my chest go away. "So it's G-E-double "M" A, right mama?" her name was Tanya, asked. "Uh yes ma'am" The vet came out and hugged me, I don't know why, maybe to assure what I did was the right thing. Maybe he felt sorry for me. He didn't have to. I didn't want to go to work, so I didn't. I didn't want to be happy so I wasn't. I went home, took two Xanax and went to sleep. It still hurts, the wound is still slightly raw. My heart still aches a bit as I type this out. I'm still not O.K, but I'm not terrible. I'm getting there.

I love you. I'm really going to miss you. Be a good girl. I'll see you on the other side. Ok?

Let me tell you...

If you're a returning reader, hello. I'm sure you're wondering where the other blogs went-or not. I deleted them, not that that matters, but whatever. If you're brand-spankin' new here.... welcome aboard, it's not a boat or anything and it might not be a lot of fun but I have been known to make puns and tell funny but true stories; this won't be one of those times. I know "That's a shitty intro." but, deal with it I guess or don't read below?

It's been 84 years.... Wait, wrong story... it's been like 2 years since I've sat down here and actually typed anything that wasn't an email, or updating an excel spread sheet; and, a lot of shit has gone down. I'm not going to pick up where I left off because 2017 was mostly me working, going to the gym and navigating a toxic relationship (I mean if you REALLY want that cup of tea I'll serve it to you).

I'll start with 2018-the year that broke me, in every sense of the word. And let me preface this by saying I'm not looking for ANY type of sympathy (mostly because 99% of the sympathy we're given is false) and I don't need an unlistening ear... I have a small safe circle that knows what details I leave out.

In February on my birthday to be exact my dad's best friend (do men have best friends?) lost a battle to cancer and I was accused of being happy he passed... I might be kind of a cold person (ya know, now) but I was never rejoice over the passing of a person. That evening my mom (who has chronic pain) was rushed to the ER via EMS with backpain so bad she couldn't get out of bed. (I don't have high hopes for my 36th birthday y'all). In March she was admitted to the hospital, where she had two surgeries-one major, one minor but still surgery. She was in the hospital/rehab until May. I should also mention my grandmother's health had started to decline in 2017. My mom came home on Mother's Day. It was then we noticed my grandmother was very jaundice, so that Monday we made an appointment with her GP figuring it was just a UTI; which elderly women are prone to and my grandmother was getting them about every other month. Her GP sent her for bloodwork and a ultrasound of her belly on Wednesday... or maybe it was Tuesday. Anyway, the days don't matter; her GP called us from a conference in Dallas to tell the results of her scan and bloodwork.... he was 99.9% certain it was S4 pancreatic cancer, but wanted us to go in and speak to another doctor to get the official diagnosis.

Just after midnight on June 27th, 2018 my grandmother lost her battle to Stage 4 pancreatic cancer.

On July 6th, 2018 my mother was found unresponsive and taken to the hospital with a blood pressure of 40/30. It was after midnight before the nurses told us we could see her or what was going on. To this day I'm still not sure what exactly happened.... I know she had her right lymph node removed from under her arm... that's really all I remember. Then we had my a memorial service for my grandmother.... The strange part of losing my grandmother is...or was is that it seems like it happened such a long time ago. But things that happened a decade ago feel like they happened yesterday. My mom had a short stint in the hospital in October, it's hardly noteworthy, but it's still a hospital stay.

December..... We actually cancelled Christmas. My mom very nearly lost her own life. And to be honest, there are SO many details.... and I still have to fill in the blanks for my mom when she asks. I still have to pretend like the doctors telling us "You may want to consider HOSPICE" was something I didn't hear, or seeing my father, my sister and brother in law fall apart when we were told my mother's mortality rate was 90%. I have to pretend I didn't feel selfish as hell for feeling alone at that point.

I had to put a lid on every anxious thought. At that point in my life I just wanted someone to hold me and tell me "It's going to be okay" and "I'm here for you." Even if those were lies.

December wasn't ALL bad. My mom pulled through a made a full recovery. My sister and brother in law found out their IVF was successful; and Samuel was born on August 27th, 2019.

I know you're thinking..... "I feel like there are details you're leaving out" and you are absolutely right there are details I'm leaving out. I might make a post later talking about my toxic relationship(s), my bouts with anxiety attacks, debilitating migraines and a pitpull that has grand-mal seizures. But, in truth that's a but much for one post, yeah?

Good-Bye Version 2.0

So....this is my last blog post for a while. I need to take some time away from posting on this type of platform, and go back to writing for myself.... in order to just deal with... things, things that I don't have to explain and/or go into great detail about. Personal, nitty gritty things.

I need a break from lots of things in general. I need to get away from my family, but they don't seem to understant that. My dad has been in the hospital for a little over 2 weeks and is expected to be home on Friday; however by the time this goes up he'll more than likely be home.... Which is both good and bad. Good because this means it'll probably be another 2-3 years before his next stint in the hospital, but bad because I know as soon as he gets home nothing will have changed, except his center of gravity.

I need to get out of town, turn off my phone, forget people exist for a weekend. Why? Because my mind is running on overdrive, and I'm an overthinker as it is-which already sucks for me; as do most things but..... And also because I am slowly losing my sanity and people are assholes, well not all people. I also need to get laid and have a really good make out session but that is neither here nor there, maybe I'll put up an ad on Craigslist.

There are things I wish I could say, some of them mean and hurtful, some of them heartfelt, some of them just because. There are questions I wish I could ask, though I already know the answers. There are moments I wish I could rewind and do over, moments I wish I could erase, words I wish I could take back, people I wish I'd never met. But these are all things I can write down in my personal journal. These are the nitty gritty things I don't want to talk about....for fear of simply losing my shit.

This will be the last time I talk about relationships (or relationshits as I've come to call them lately) and my struggles with them, maybe romantic love is dead for me because I have been blessed (which I know is such a cliche term to use but I can't think of a better word) with such an amazing group of friends that love me, and for that reason I don't get a shot at romance (Thank you, Katie for helping me see that). It certainly makes sense. It makes sense as to why every guy I've liked enjoys talking about how attractive EVERY girl he sees is-which makes me feel about an inch tall, but it's not the first time I've felt that way (remember the time a former CEO told me I was a bad person? Yeah...!). Sorry, I'm not strikingly beautiful fellas, blonde and plain is as good (or "meh" as it was once put)as it gets.

So, with all that being said... this is my last blog for a while. I need to write for myself. It's the one thing I can do for myself and myself alone. I mean not that anyone gives a shit about what I have to say these days but, ya know whatever. Anyway, see ya in 2018.