happy unmothers day

remember in alice in wonderland, the cartoon, where they sing the 'happy unbirthday' song? well, i've been singing the same thing, just 'happy unmothers day'. or i was. on saturday night. and sunday. and a little bit yesterday. but yesterday i was a basketcase for a list of other reasons.

so... mother's day. oy. let me first start out by saying that i have the best mom in the world. i don't know that i'd be as strong as i am without her. she taught me not to take anyone's shit. she taught me to power through. i have close blood running through my veins, which makes me stubborn and tempermental but it also makes me proud. my mom's amazing and i'm blessed to have her in my life. she's been taking care of me for almost 30 years now. when i got sick she was there, she's still there and she's just awesomesauce.

but for me, and for many other cushies, mother's day sucks. we can't have kids and it's a reminder of what we can't do. something that was stolen from us because of this damn disease.

barren. empty. dark. sad. infertility.

thanks cushings. thanks a lot.

so many women say that the gift of life is the greatest gift of all. i don't think so. i think it's the gift of love. look at all the women out there who adopt because they can't have kids. are you gonna tell me that they're any less of a mother because they didn't give birth to that child? fuck you if you think so. because i can list some pretty shitastic birthmoms if you wanted me to.

anyway...
i don't deal well with mother's day. or mother's or new moms or babies. i really don't. i've been struggling ALOT with this lately. i didn't a year ago. it was hard at first, when i first found out. it was like someone kicked me in the stomach, but i did the typical nicole thing and swept it under the rug and chose not to deal with it. and then baby charlie was born, and he was a miracle baby. angie faced such obstacles while giving birth. and then he got sick. but our little fighter made it. and then almost a year ago sammy was born. and he just blessed my life so much. twinny gave birth to the perfect baby. he's perfect. he's a beast, but he's perfect. his initials are SC, same as my grandpas, and his birthday is the day after... and i know my grandpa is a part of his life, which is pretty cool because he's a part of our lives. i didn't have a problem then. every now and again it would hurt but not like this. mother's day didn't even really bother me. but since... january maybe? it's been rough. really rough. maybe february. one of those winter months. i just can't stand pregnant people. or babies. or the thought of it. it makes me sick. and sad. and angry. and sad. and i just don't want to be around them or talk to them or think about any of it. and it's not like they're rubbing it in my face. it's not like anyone knows what i'm going through. well, i'm lying. two people, well three but he's a fucking piece of shit so i don't count him. i told two people, not including my therapist and my mom, what i've been going through and they've been super supportive and loving and they've been trying to understand. they have kids. so they haven't been pushing me to spend time with their kids, which is nice, but THEIR kids don't bother me. it's everyone elses kids. does that make sense? it's so weird.

alot of people are pregnant this year. i say congratulations, because i AM happy for them, i just don't want to be around them. and for the most part, i don't have to be. why? because they're all on facebook and let's be honest, how many of our fb friends do we actually spend time with? i just scroll past the preggo posts and the pictures so i don't have to see them. if that sounds awful, then it sounds awful but it hurts me. i'm not jealous. i just... you don't know what it's like to have your life taken from you. i can't see. i can't smell. i can't work. i can't have kids. i keep falling and breaking bones. i can't volunteer because i busted my ankle. i can't go anywhere. i don't see anyone unless someone comes to the house. i feel like a freaking waste of life. you don't know what it's like to be me, so don't judge me. or go ahead and judge me. and if i'm offending you, too bad. get over it.

this is going to sound terrible, but i'm thankful to have friends who know what it is i'm going through. it makes it less lonely. not everyone understands cushings, but this whole infertility thing is alot less rare so more women understand it and share in my sadness. one day it won't hurt so bad. but until then, it fucking sucks.

this whole depression thing is what brought it to surface. when you're depressed EVERYTHING comes back to haunt you. and i mean EVERYTHING. things i thought were dead and buried were resurrected. i really thought this whole infertility thing was gone but no. i didn't even realize that it was bothering me so much until my mom pointed it out to me. i had to deal with a baby shower and the whole thing was making me physically ill. i'm not exaggerating either, i really thought i was going to throw up when i thought about it. my anxiety was so bad i had to take my anxiety meds to get through the night! i ended up not going, thank freaking god. i never would've survived the damn thing, especially because of the cuntwhores that were there. seriously. why would i want to surround myself with people who made a POINT of making my life hell? really? especially with everything that i was dealing with. that's a negative.

this is off topic, but i'm trying not to sink back into that depression again. my meds are working, but i'm stuck. this busted ankle is killing me. i have to stay off of it so i can't go anywhere. can't volunteer because i can't walk. i have to keep it elevated. it still hurts like a bitch. i didn't get the answers i wanted yesterday at the endos. he's sending me for more tests and a second opinion before we make a decision, which i guess is a good thing because i'd rather he be 100% sure about surgery before just sending me off to surgery. idk. i'm just blah.

so to my girls who can't have kids. to my girls who are single and think they're running out of time- fuck that shit. you don't need a man. when it's meant to be, it will be. you don't need to settle for some whackass bozo. you deserve to be someone's sun and moon. i'm sitting here and i'm watching girls settle and take less than they deserve. why? because they don't want to be alone maybe? i don't know. but it makes me sad for them, but happy for me. i'd rather be single than settle! God has bigger plans for you. and we're all gonna be ok. i know we can't have kids, but... i have a dog. and while he's not doing so well, i know he loves me. and there's always adoption. the greatest gift is love, and i'll just keep on loving people. i don't hate babies or pregnant people, but i will keep ignoring their posts until i can handle it. i am happy for them, it's just not helping me.

so don't think i hate you. or babies. or you. i'm happy for you. i just can't talk about it. and that's ok. and if you can't understand that then, maybe we're not as good of friends as you think we are. and then maybe you need to step back. i need people in my life who are going to be understanding. and if it sounds like 'it's all about me'. well, then... maybe it is. eventually i'll be able to deal with it. i just can't right now. and if you think about it, it's never been about me. but now... it is. so happy nicole's day.

starships were meant to flyyy

let's go to the beach, each 

let's go get away, they say, what they gonna say?

oh right. i remember. that i shouldn't have been enjoying my life. that i shouldn't go to the beach. that i didn't deserve to.

fuck you talkin about i don't deserve to or that i shouldn't be goin to the beach. i almost died bitch. i deserve to go to the beach now more than ever!

*sigh* what am i talking about? i sound kinda crazy right? i kinda am crazy, if you haven't been paying attention...

anyway. if you know anything about me or my past, you know i'm a shorewhore. i live for the beach and the way it makes me feel and it's healing powers. it doesn't hurt that i have family that lives down the shore either and i pretty much have free room and board. i have friends down there, i pretty much have a whole nother life down there. so anyway, i was always going down there, just about every other weekend, before i got sick, before all this bullshit started. and then, then i had my first brain surgery. and we all went for my 27th birthday. me, my parents and my brother and sister. and those bitches from my office had the nerve to talk shit about how i shouldn't be at the beach how i shouldn't be doin shit. really? i almost died. i'm gonna recover the best way i know how! seriously. talk shit on me when ya'll fuckin abandoned me in my time of need. get the fuck outta here. and then, a few months later, before i was going to have my second surgery, i spent time down the shore with my cousins, to prepare myself to calm myself down. but wait, i shouldn't have done that either because godforfreakinbid i take time for me. i enjoy me. i do something for ME. yeah, i'm sick. and yeah, my life sucks at times, hell, most of the time it takes alot for me to get out of bed, but i'm doing it. so let the bitches talk shit and talk shit they did. my goodness. work was hell for me when i tried to go back. my drs signed me out. if they hadn't, i probably would've gotten fired because they made it so difficult for me to come back to. and i wanted to go back and i tried so hard. but seriously? try going back after brain surgery, with a brain tumor still in there, still not fully recovered, with cushings, without the support of your coworkers, with people whispering behind your back, with the negativity, with your body screaming, and walking into things and people making you feel bad because you're partially blind now, and people leaving things in the middle of the floor and no one being considerate and them not making it handicap accessible for you and... i could go on and on and on... i'm fortunate enough to have had a wonderful lawyer and to have won my disability case because there's no way i could work now. i've pushed myself to my limits this week and i have no idea how i'm still functioning right now. my legs are screaming. my back is on fire. thursday i had a headache that wouldn't quit- i was practically in a tylenol induced coma. cushings fucking sucks. 

you're probably wondering what stemmed this wonderful bloggityblog. i haven't been well enough to go to the shore since last july. well, mom and i booked a mini-getaway for june and we're going to the beach so i'm saying fuck you to whomever wants to bitch that i'm going. because i'm going. and i'm going to enjoy the hell out of the ocean waves, the sand between my toes, the ocean sunsets, the love of my family and the amazing pool at my favorite hotel, oh and my favorite breakfast spot. 

i'm fighting death all the time. every day. medically speaking i SHOULD be dead. i'm a walking miracle so guess what? i'm going to the beach each, let's go get away. they say, what they gonna say?... they better be sayin have a good time because this starship was meant to fly. 

save a life

a new battle.

it's more than just being sad.

and don't just say, this too shall pass. don't tell me to get over it. don't tell me to stay strong. i'm really getting sick of hearing that.

i almost killed myself in march. almost. the reason i didn't? i didn't want to ruin my brothers graduation.

i'm so fucking sick of being sick. i was sleeping 16-17 hours a day. i wasn't speaking to anyone. i wasn't going anywhere. wasn't having visitors. and it wasn't just in march. it was january. and february, too.

do you know what it's like? to feel so completely hopeless that all you can see or feel is darkness? that there is no light at the end of the tunnel? i could barely lift my head off the pillow. all i wanted to do was sleep the day away. and when i was awake i would count down the hours to when i could go back to bed. and showering? it made me dizzy and out of breath. i hated it. i hated everything and everyone. i felt so alone. so incredibly alone, like no one understood. and no one really does understand. until you're faced with a life threatening illness that steals your life away from you, that makes your life hard to live, that kills your hormones and just sucks? i tried to not let it happen, but it feels like cushings became me. i tried to not let it happen, but it did.

my surgeries didn't work. and i had three of them, THREE BRAIN SURGERIES. and now i'm probably looking at another surgery because i still 'have active cushings'. i won't know about that until my next endo appt in a few weeks, and then we won't even be sure because he wants me to get a second opinion.

but anyway. back to this depression thing. it's more than just sadness. it's a feeling of hopelessness. like nothing is going to get better. that nothing matters. that no one matters. that the world would be better off without you. that you serve no purpose. that there is no meaning to your life. that there is no meaning to anything. that nothing matters. that you don't matter. and it sucks.

one of the side effects of cushings disease is depression. and it sucks. i fought it for so long, alot of you are probably saying, why now? she's so strong. blah blah freaking blah. honestly, i couldn't tell you. it just kinda hit me. i had a lot to be angry about. alot i had been holding inside of me and not dealing with and then it all came to surface. and when you have no pituitary gland... it makes things alot harder to deal with.

another notsofun side effect of cushings is the anxiety. and the anxiety mixed with the depression sucks. while i was super depressed i was self-medicating. i was in more pain, so i was hopped up on pain killers, and since my anxiety was in full effect, i was taking my anti-anxiety meds, which are downers. so... i was in essence putting myself into a deeper depression.

my surgeries, my two sinus surgeries, did more damage than good. the first one caused me so much pain and then i had complications so i had to have a second surgery. and then i had to heal from that. cushings makes everything more complicated and take longer.

this disease fucking sucks.

so... i am now on antidepressants. it took me quite a long time to finally agree to be on them because i didn't want to feel like i was crazy or that i needed the help, but it's better than wanting to end my own life. she may have to increase it because the crying spells are coming back. sometimes they just come out of nowhere.

i hate this disease. i really do.

i have been getting better, with the depression. i no longer want to end my life. i haven't been sleeping 16-17 hours a day. i've been trying to keep busy. i've been trying to talk to people, i've even been exercising every day with my mom. the warm weather has been helping. i have seasonal depression so the cold weather wasn't doing much for me...it's a tough battle. it's not a joke. and i used to think that it wasn't a big deal but boy was i wrong.

so... before you just think that someone who says they're depressed can just 'get over it', think again. they probably need you. or if someone who used to be bubbly and bouncy becomes withdrawn and sullen... maybe there's something wrong and MAYBE you should try and be there for them. idk TRY to listen to them. AND if someone tries to open up to you, why don't you listen to them instead of brushing them off? if you're claiming to be their friend and claiming to be there for them no matter what, you DO NOT brush them off when they start to open up to you. when you do brush them off, change the subject or ignore them... you're going to lose their trust and love and respect and they will stop caring about you. trust me. i have a friend who completely brushed me off when i tried to open up to them and now? i barely speak to them. don't tell me you're gonna fucking be there for me no matter what and then when it comes down to it you're not because you're life is more important than the fact that i was about to take my own life. so when that happened, i said fuck it. i obviously am not that important to said friend so, i went silent. or, more silent than i had gone. it's one thing to SAY you care, it's another thing to SHOW it.

i guess i've also been thinking of that whole, i'm almost 30 and where am i really? i'm sick. woofreakinhoo. this was not a part of my life plan. nono. i would've been working in my career and married by now. but no. that's not in the cards. i'm stuck with this disease. but then... i can look around, and see people who aren't as accomplished as i am who are my age or older and who aren't sick who are just, well... idk what they are. but i've had a career. and i have a new life plan for when i'm cured and i will be. one day.

i've also been worrying about the brain tumor growing back. and whether or not i can be cured. and if i'm going to need another surgery. this bla (bilateral adrenalectomy) comes with side effects, like the possibility of nelsons syndrome, and then i'll have to be on a replacement steroid for the rest of my life. i'm not even 30 years old yet. i'm too young for this shit.

this past week 1/2  has been so incredibly emotional, i have no idea how i've been able to hold it together. i guess that's why i've been biting back tears. next time, i'm just going to let them flow because i'm sick of holding it all together.

every day is a battle. and i'm gonna win. i always win. but those first few months were rough. and lonely and scary. and i wouldn't wish them on anyone. ever.

if you don't know how to help a sick friend, just be there for them. and if they tell you they don't want anything from you, just don't give up on them. if you can't handle their illness, maybe you shouldn't be around them because you're not the kind of friend that they need.

http://www.realsimple.com/health/mind-mood/emotional-health/how-help-sick-friend-00100000098686/index.html

click the above link for tips on how to be there for a sick friend. i have a few of the greatest friends in the world. they didn't leave my side. ivory, amanda, christine... amazing. hell, amanda drove up from indiana and didn't tell me and showed up at my doorstep.

i'm very much looking forward to next weekend when i'm with christine again. getting the hell outta the pocs.

i don't remember where i was going with this blog but... depression isn't an easy battle to fight so don't just brush someone off who's fighting it. be there for them. if someone says they want to end their life, take them seriously. offer them help. hold their hand. hug them. send a card. send flowers. suggest a movie. do something. ANYTHING. save their life.

a smile hides a thousand lies

when you have a smile that lights up a room, people tend to always think the best of you. and i won't lie, i've got that smile. don't deny it, you've noticed that about me. it's one of my best features. actually, i think it's kinda gotten to be one of my worst...

i smile through everything. every blood draw. every iv.damnevery question unanswered. every diagnosis. every broken bone.
and it stems back further than cushings.
every heartbreak.
every liar
every abusive boyfriend

i smiled. i took it. i smiled.
i dealt with the hurt.

even now. well, maybe not NOW. but, recently. i've been smiling through all of it. and you're all so... WOWed by me. so, enamored by it all. so... Nicci's so strong. Nicci's such an inspiration. Nicci's so this, Nicci's so that. How DOES she do it?

 damned if i know.

and then... i go silent for a while. have you heard from nicci? i wonder how nicci's doing. is nicci ok?

go on. talk ABOUT me all you want. but ask ME how i'm doing? now why the HELL would you bother to do that? really? oh that's right. because i'm strong so i MUST be ok.

NEWSFLASH. I'M NOT OFUCKINGKAY!!!

not at all. not in the least bit.

wanna know why i've gone silent? because... well... i've been drowning. i've been starving for air. i haven't been able to swim. i haven't had a life-preserver. my boat flipped over.

my friend said to me, why now? you've been struggling and endured for so long...

maybe that's the problem. two years is a long time to struggle and endure and to not really be getting anywhere. maybe i'm sick of being sick. or i'm sick of feeling like i'm being left in the dust. like i'm at a standstill and the world is moving on around me and i can't really go anywhere. my plane is circling and it just won't land. or maybe i feel like a failure. or that i will fail. i'm tired of being in pain. i've come to grips with my own mortality. i know that i could die. i know that this thing could kill me. i know this. i also know that i could end my own life. i know this. i've those thoughts have been eating away at my brain. EATING AWAY at it. but there's no guarantee that if i attempted it, that i would succeed and i wouldn't want to fail at that, too.

there's so much going on inside. so much that people don't know. so much that people don't seem to care to know because they don't ask!

no, you're right. i'm not going to tell you everything. but seriously, i'm sick. so ask me if i'm ok. don't assume that i'm fine because i smile. or because i'm strong. or because i've been so strong for so long.

i sit here and cry. and i ask YOU if you're ok. i sit here and i read on fb about your struggles and i ask if you're ok. or i read your blogs or i reach out. oh wait, i forgot, i'm the person that actually gives a shit. i don't know how to be a fairweather friend.

but let me tell you something about this past week. it's been the lowest of the low for me. i've never cried so much or hurt so much or just wanted it all to end. and randomly... people were reaching out to me. people who didn't know what was going on, people who i didn't really speak to, i heard from. and it was strange. and it really weirded me out. but i was touched by it. there was my lissa who just makes all the difference all the time and i don't think she realizes how much a difference she makes in my life. she's one of the most wonderful, most beautiful people i know and she is just... perfect. i save her text messages because they mean so much to me. i like to reread them, and usually they make me laugh. i got a nondrunk drunk dial from jen, just to tell me she loves me and was thinking about me. and then, there was the phone call yesterday. from my michael. now, i watched it ring, mainly because i love the picture that shows up (it's of him and i at his sister's wedding and we look fantastic) and the ringtone rocks= make it out alive by hanson. i can't handle talking to people on the phone because i just cry, i was out walking with my mom and sister and i didn't know why he was calling me. so listen to the vmail, and i was so touched, i cried. i had posted a picture on fb that said, when you're strong, no one asks if you're ok. my friend lori commented on it and asked if i was ok, i said no. and he called me. to see if i was ok. to let me know that he was here for me, to tell me that he doesn't talk on the phone (like me, i'd rather text anyday) and that he would be around his phone all night for me, so i would have someone and that i wasn't alone. seriously? who does that?

my heart soared. and pieced back together a little bit. now, i do have my amazing circle of friends who don't leave my side. but i've been so low i haven't been able to find joy in anything. and i mean in ANYTHING. i haven't cared about people, tv shows... nothing. i didn't even want to see my kidlets. and when that happened, i cried so hard because i love them to pieces.

maybe the sun is going to start shining. maybe. today i left my house. on my own. i ran errands without relying on someone else. i got my nails done. i didn't sleep the day away. yeah, i've been sleeping 16-18 hours a day. why? because that's all i've felt worth doing. i've felt completely worthless. and i know that i don't need people to make me feel like i'm worth something, i should be able to feel worth it on my own, but when you feel as low as i have, when your life takes a turn for the worst, when you're constantly faced with your own mortality and you feel forgotten about... yeah. it's easy to feel worthless.

and a smile? can hide a thousand lies.

so don't assume that i'm ok just because i'm strong. i may not be as strong as you think. or maybe i am, but it's dark. and scary. and this smile... try and see beyond it. because you're letting me down. and i'm drowning.

you left me for dead.

this shall be a venomous blog. so stop reading.

you left me for dead.

you saw me drowning. gasping for air and just let me go.

i reached out to you. held out my hand and you pushed me farther down into the abyss.

it's like i'm only good enough when i'm smiling, or when i'm healthy or when i'm ok. but godforbid i'm not ok...

and you KNEW i was having surgery and where were you? and i had TWO SURGERIES! i had to have an emergency second one because idk what happened but i couldn't stop bleeding from the first one and where were you? NOWHERE!!!

fairweather friends. you fuckin left me for dead.

or have we forgotten i have what's called, 'the silent killer'.

or have you just forgotten about me altogether?

and you... you guys are supposed to be my FAMILY. FAMILY. right. i don't even think you know what that word fucking means. because honestly? i have a girl here, who's not even close to being blood related to me, but she's more family to me than you will ever be. family my ass. i'm worthless? ha. if i recall correctly, i was there for you no matter what you needed, no matter what time of day it was, but wait, cole's getting sicker so let's ignore her cries. let's leave her for dead. because we're selfish fucking pricks.

and you know what? i don't care how much my words are going to be offending anyone. do you have ANY idea how much you've been hurting me?! ANY IDEA?!

i'm only good enough when i'm healthy. well fuck you. seriously. FUCK YOU. you know i'm sick. why is it my job to call you to say, hey. i'm fucking sick as hell and i'm miserable. can you ask me how i'm doing? how assbackward is that?

don't get me wrong, everyone has their own lives, i get that, but if i'm reaching out to you, WHILE I'M SICK, you could at least reach back. or not. because apparently i don't matter.

and YOU. YOU are the biggest fucking prick of them all! oh i love nicci. she's my best friend. i care about her so much. she does so much for me. she's always there for me. blah fucking blah. you're damn right nicci does so much for you. correction. she DID so much for you and where the fuck are you now superman? waste of 10 years of my fucking life. everything i did for you. my god. could you have at least tried to be there while i was scared to death? could you have been there holding my hand? could have been there encouraging me the same way i did for you all those years? oh wait, i'm sorry. it's not about you so why fucking bother. asshole.

go on. leave me for dead. alot of you are so goddamn good at it. selfish pricks.

i told you this was going to be venomous.

you have NO idea what i'm going through right now.

do you have ANY idea how scary that second surgery was? i couldn't stop bleeding so i had to RUSH to the TJH ER... RUSH 3 hours to an er... and we even had to pull off the tpk because i ran out of gauze pads! i had JUST been to the dr the day before and he cotorized me and said i was fine. welp, guess not! i was scared shitless! i already have a rare blood disorder, i have cushing's disease, was i dying? was the surgery not a success? what was going to happen to me now? yes, i was surrounded by an amazing medical staff and hott doctors, but still. i was scared. i had my dad with me, and my owl and an amazing person texting me until i made him go to bed bc he didn't want me to be alone. but i was scared.
but in the hospitals i feel safest because there someone can treat me. there someone knows my condition. there someone is gonna be able to fix me. the only reason i made them send me home is bc i didn't want my parents going broke by staying in a hotel. tjh is great but my dad couldn't stay in the room with me bc they are so small.

i had a few people texting me and my mom checking on me. and that doesn't go unappreciated. but there are still those who've left me for dead. and i shouldn't be mad at you. but i am. i think you are craptastic human beings.

seriously. i'm a great person. and if you don't see that, fuck yourself. i shouldn't let this bother me as much as it does, but it does.

i guess because i'd never let you drown. hell, no matter how much my ship has sunk, i've still reached out to you. because i'm not a shitbrick and i'd never let you die.

but that's ok. just let me die. but do me a favor, don't show up at my funeral. i don't want you there.

kinda freaking out.

so... surgery on tuesday...

apparently i'm not as excited about this as i thought i was, or as strong as i thought...

monday i went for my pre-admission testing. no big deal, right? just go to tjh, do the bloodwork, answer the questions, pee in the cup, do the catscan, just like before... just like before. just. like. before... and that's what it was. it was just like before. the same room. the same tests. the same hospital.  the same doctor. all of a sudden it was april 2011 all over again and i was prepping for brain surgery. i was scared. i was angry. i was frustrated. i didn't want to be there. what if they found something else? what if something went wrong? and then there's the... everyone's gonna leave. no one's gonna stick around. i'm not going to have friends who are there for me when i come out of this. they all left me before, why would they stick around now?

but it's not april 2011, is it. and i'm not having brain surgery. i'm having sinus surgery. i'm having septoplasty turbinectomy endoscopic sinus surgery. that's what i'm having done. i'm having something that should be a simple procedure, so simple in fact, that i don't even need to stay overnight! so why... why am i freaking out? i am surrounded by people who love me and care about me. people who won't leave me alone... but my past... oh that past and those awful people have left such doubt in my head that i can't help but think that maybe... just maybe... something may go wrong.

i've been crying every day since i came home from those tests. every day. and alot. monday i cried so hard i was hyperventilating, in my bed, under the covers with my teddy bear. it was bad. i don't take my anxiety medication because it's as needed. i haven't needed it in i don't even know how long... but i took it that night. and i took it on tuesday. and wednesday. and thursday. and i plan on taking it every night until my surgery. something's gonna have to get me through it. they're probably going to have to give me ativan the morning of my surgery just to get me through it. and i'm ok with that.

we were going to stay in a hotel the night before so we'd be closer to the hospital, but instead we're driving up the morning of. i'd rather sleep in my own bed. i think i'll be less anxious, use my own shower, sleep in the car on the way up. it'll be better, and cheaper that way. we're staying in a hotel the night of the surgery though.

i actually opened up to a few people about how i'm feeling. well, three people. but three is better than none. well, four if you include my mom. i told my twin, the biffster and the boy. and all have reassured me that they don't plan on leaving my side. and ya know something? i believe them.

i'm still freaking out. alot. but not as much as i was. i started painting again. that felt really good. it feels good to be doing something for other people and to be focusing my attention on other things. painting is just so... calming. and beautiful and just nice. i make some pretty cute things, too. :) maybe tomorrow i'll paint some more, make some faerie houses, some bracelets... since date night has moved to sunday because of this damn weather... oh well.

so yes. i'm scared. and i'm trying to hold it together. and i haven't wanted to but... i let some people in and i'm letting them help me hold it together. and ya know what? it makes it not so scary...

i'm a suicide survivor :)

i think the title speaks for itself.

WARNING. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T THINK YOU CAN HANDLE WHAT FOLLOWS.

i am a suicide survivor.

i think the first time i contemplated ending my own life, i was in the 5th grade. 5TH GRADE! what would that have made me, 10 years old... TEN FREAKIN YEARS OLD!!!! that's how ridiculed i was. that's how terrible kids made me feel. i remember going home, looking in my mirror and saying to myself, you're fat, you're ugly, nobody likes you, you have no friends, everybody hates you, go kill yourself.  TEN YEARS OLD! what on earth... lardy velardi they called me. wait, YOU called me that. YOU did that. do you remember? i don't know if YOU specifically did that, because i don't know if my readers are my previous bullies, but i also remember my bullies also telling me to go kill myself. and i would tell myself that i was better off dead... at TEN YEARS OLD!! and i thought about it. i'd look at my deck, i'd walk out on it. climb the rungs, and contemplate jumping off and just ending it all. why not? what did i have to lose? no one would miss me. i had no friends. no one cared about me. i was fat. i was ugly. i was constantly getting picked on. i wasn't a popular kid by any means. i was the tallest girl in the class, every year. i had stains on my teeth. i believed in God. i listened to country music. i stood firm in my beliefs. i didn't have the same friends that everyone else did. i was awkward. the ridicule didn't start in 5th grade, it started, i think, in 3rd or 4th, but was the worst in 5th. that's when i heard, why don't you go kill yourself.
we had a gun safety course in 5th grade. we learned about guns. i learned about guns. i knew we had guns. i remember asking my dad where they were. where he kept them. i also remember asking where he kept the bullets. i told him that in class i learned that to promote gun safety the bullets and guns should be kept in different places and that there should never be a loaded gun in the house. he, trusting his baby girl, showed me where everything was, and taught me that we did not keep loaded guns in the house. i wasn't just asking him these questions because of what i learned in class, i was asking because well... they trusted me and sometimes i was home alone and well... do i have to spell it out for you? who was really going to care? right?
well, somehow i managed to become cared about. my dear friend mana cared about me. she laughed at my taste in music, but loved me no matter what. her mom always welcomed me into their home. she played with me on the playground, and she was picked on, too. i don't know the extent of it, but, she loved me. she still does. she's one of the best people i know and some days i don't know how i survive without her. she's a big part of how i survived back then.
i also have an amazing family who loves me. that's also a reason that i'm still here. a reason that i didn't find my way to my daddy's guns. i didn't swallow pills because i couldn't swallow pills at that time and, well, i was ten years old, it would get better, wouldn't it?
in 6th grade i was thrown into a new school, with new people and was away from the people who ripped me apart. i was still awkward, but i was around new people and people weren't so mean.
in 7th grade i found my niche. i found a group of people as awkward and weird as i were and we became attached. it was lovely. we laughed. we we were in band. we had similar disinterests. we got made fun of, but were made fun of together, and that made it all ok. i met my soulsister. we looked pretty identical. we were both amazons and could share clothing. she was all misery and darkness and i was all peaches and sunshine. we were the perfect pair. we are the perfect pair. she completes me and gets me through my days. she knows when i'm sad without speaking to me and is an incredible part of my family and i don't know what i'd do without her. i lost her for a few years, but she's back and it's wonderful. but yes, in 7th grade it was great.
so it had seemed my sadness had ended. i was going to be alright.
and then... high school happened. and it all fell apart. i joined marching band. where i became a disgrace. too tall. too fat. too slow. too awkward. too unbalanced. too unpretty. no one liked me. i wasn't good enough. i didn't fit in with the freshman. i didn't fit in with the upperclassmen. i was a joke. everyone made fun of me. it was 5th grade all over again. i was ten years old, all over again. and no one seemed to care. my band director made my life hell, and making me cry, made him smile. i'd go back to my mirror and yell at myself. i became withdrawn. who in their right mind would want to spend time with me? i tried to be happy. to get lost in my writing. to continue some friendships. and i guess i put on a good act. but... i was dying inside. i climbed that deck again. i held a knife to my wrists more than once, i was too much of a scairdy cat to cut, though. but boy... was i tempted. i watched girls get boyfriends, and thought hmm... maybe that's what i need to be accepted. why the hell i thought that, who knows. i had never thought that way before, never really cared but... i had friends who felt that way and i had friends who talked shit behind my back, friends who talked down to me, and friends who made me feel like garbage. good friends, right? bring on the inner darkness...
10th grade i found amazing awkward people. people who wanted to save me. people who saw my inner struggle, the struggle i refused to talk about, but they saw it in my eyes. they held me without touching me and made me feel like i was worth something. we laughed. we cried. we were awkward together. i wrote, they drew. jenni and sarah were like my rocks. ROCKS. sarah caught me trying to end my life IN school. there was a stairwell in the middle of the building and as i was getting ready to climb the ledge, she stopped me. it was just the two of us and i believe God had sent her there to be my angel and stop me. i collapsed into her embrace. my wonderful boyfriend at the time, told me he wouldn't have cared if i lived or died so really... if that's what 'true love' was all about, then i wanted nothing to do with it... but sarah... she caught me, literally, in the nick of time. and i'll never forget that. jenni came to see me when i was in the hospital. she brought me a bunny from her and sarah, i call him jefferson rabbit and i sleep with him every night. everyone else sent a teddy bear but... the rabbit? he's perfect. unique and special, just like us. they helped save me.
junior and senior year were eh... junior year was rough, just not as bad. i wasn't in marching band so i only had a bad boyfriend. abusive. but hey. whatevs. it happened. you'd think i'd learn. but no.
senior year i joined the colorguard, where, i sucked. i fractured my ankle and busted my kneecap, was ridiculed for my firm belief in God but... i was a SENIOR so it was kinda like FUCK everyone else. and then i got kicked out of the youth group, where i held a leadership position because the cuntwhore NEW pastors daughter was making out with MY boyfriend and then i was told that because i chose to do my graduation project, ya know, so i could GRADUATE, i was putting the world before the Lord that I was no longer welcome. are you serious?! whatever. when the new pastor took over, it had slowly turned cultish, and i'm not even kidding. just about everyone left so... i'm not missing out. i actually like the way i worship now, a whole lot better. i think i thought about suicide once or twice my senior year...
let's bring on college, shall we? that was a bitch. freshman year i made a name for myself. i was involved in everything and i mean EVERYTHING. christian fellowship, student activities, i was chosen to be a part of the presidential advisory board, i worked in the office, worked another job, attended school functions, my picture was hung up around the office, did interviews, had a full-time boyfriend, worked at a summer camp... i was little miss go-getter. things were looking up for me. i mean, unless you include the stalker i had... yeah. i ended up learning how to use a knife. no. i didn't have to use it, but jason taught me how to use one and had me carry one because someone was following me and threatening and i read conversations where he had talked about wanting to rape me. i actually had someone walking to me to my car, and then the security guard was walking me to and from my classes. AND I WAS GOING TO A COMMUNITY COLLEGE!
and then there was the abortion. that was a rough one. yes. i had an abortion. it was hard to deal with. i know that i made the right decision. i don't regret it and you can say whatever you want. you can hate me for it, you can judge me for it, call me a babykiller, that's fine. you're entitled to your opinion. at that time, i struggled with it. did i want to kill myself for it? strangely enough, no. did i want to kill the guy... yes. a few months afterward i did struggle with it and hated myself for it. i just had a hard time with it. but, i'm prochoice and feel that unless you've been in that situation you can't say what you would do. so, you can either stop reading and hate me, or keep reading and don't judge me.
college was really rough for me. the abortion happened. then a bunch of my friends killed themselves... within weeks of each other... during my birthday month. i had a boyfriend who brought me into his rollercoaster of a family- he was abused as a child, his brother came home and beat the shit out of his girlfriends... i became a borderline alcoholic/sex addict...
 then i had a boyfriend who consistently beat the shit out of me but i was too afraid to leave because i was afraid he would kill me. or himself. or both of us and i didn't know what the right thing to do would be. and while dating him, i fell in love with someone else. and i mean, love love. like the real deal. like the one i wanted to be with for the rest of my life. and he felt the same way but i was stuck... and then... he died. he DIED. my soulmate. i would have left that relationship for him. i should have left. he DIED. two days before my birthday. gone. he's gone. GONE. are you reading this. THE LOVE OF MY LIFE DIED. what reason would i have now to keep going? i might as well stay with douchebag.  *sidenote, i know he's my guardian and he walks with me and protects me daily, so that's something to smile about ;)*
*insert that i met my OTHER soulmate, the female soulmate of mine (wifey) while in college, at ESU. she keeps me breathing. i hate that we live so far apart now. i miss her so much. a hug from her can cure any illness. she seems to know what i need just when i need it. during school, we fell in platonic love during one of our courses while putting together an event for school on domestic violence. 'silence the violence, increase the peace' she held my hand as i told my then boyfriends story about his abuse from his father. she's amazing and i'm so blessed to have her in my life. she keeps me afloat. and the days when i'm drowning, she surprises me and makes random trips to my state to see me*
and stay with douchebag i did. i started defending myself. i'd fight back. one time i hit him so hard i thought i broke his nose. the amount of blood that was on my living room floor... holy hannah banana! he'd hit me, i'd hit him back. one time, he called me a whore... well, he called me a whore one too many times that day, so, i scared him. i ripped my clothes off, took out his wallet and said. pay me motherfucker. yeah... really healthy right? i tried to drown myself that day. while living with him i tried mixing tylenol with tequila, drowning myself, i tried sitting in a running car, i tried driving my car off the road... nothing ever seemed to work. eventually... i just stopped coming home. i felt bad for him... you'd think i'd care more about me. but no. i'd had too many people tell me that i was so worthless and unimportant that... i still thought his life was more important than mine. so him throwing me across the room, throwing a cd player at me, having a coffee table land on me, having him try and snap my ankle or trying to crash my car with both of us in it because if he 'can't have me than no one can'.. i still felt sorry for him because no one wanted him around. so i had to save him, right? at my wifeys graduation party, someone noticed the bruises... at work my boss knew something was going on. he would stay late with me and find things for me to do. another supervisor knew that things were getting bad and would help me find reasons to work late. they helped me leave my relationship. i ended up getting my head together and moving back home. and i'm home. and i'm safe.
after that i hadn't battled with suicide. even with the shitbrick boyfriends i had. they never made me want to end my life. i hadn't struggled with suicide until i got here. until the cushing's. the depression gets so bad that i wonder how more of us haven't ended our own lives. i'll sink so deep into the darkness that sometimes i'll think, why am i still here? what is my purpose? i have no reason to wake up, to get out of bed. blah blah blah.
that's how sad i get. that's how bad the pain gets. some days i can't get out of bed, it's not that i don't want to, i physically can't do it.

but you know what? that's ok. i'm ok. i'm a survivor. one of the things that i've learned in therapy is that, it's ok to give into the darkness. let it take over you. it's not going to last forever.

and you know what? it's not. it hasn't. i've been blessed. maybe i'm here to uplift people. maybe i'm here to keep other people going.

i went out saturday night, and it was wonderful. i spent the night laughing and jumping around and being goofy and pretty with my twin. i think she needed it as much as i did. and she loved me being happy and i loved her being happy.

i make people happy. i bring light wherever i go. it's a part of me. i can't help it. :) i like letting my light shine. so you should let your light shine.

i'm a suicide survivor. and i'm going to keep on surviving. no matter how dark or how sad i get. it will always get better.

i hope you're surviving, too. or that maybe this saves you. because it will get better for you. no matter how old you are. i started surviving a little too early, if you ask me. bullying sucks.

i've also noticed that i'm alot happier now that i don't have negativity and pointless drama in my life. i've forgive those who've hurt me, i just don't have a place for them in my life anymore. and you don't have to let someone back into your life just because they've said that they're sorry. it's like giving them the bullets for that gun that they've already shot you with and honestly? i don't feel like bandaging that wound again...

anyway... in the dark is where the stars shine their brightest
the sun will come out tomorrow
and you are beautiful
so smile
and before you go to sleep
and every morning when you wake up
tell yourself: i am worthy of love. i am worth it. i am awesome. i am amazing. i deserve to love myself. i love myself. i am great!
because you are.