Cancer sucks

****This entry is something I wrote after my Grandpa passed away from cancer. I was involved in Relay for Life for a very long time, I am still a strong supporter of the event. I wrote the first part of this to share my story as to how cancer touched my life. The poem I wrote to read at my Grandpa’s memorial. I wrote it as he was taking his last breath; a moment I will never forget****

My Grandpa was a stubborn man. Up until the very end he fought to do most everything on his own. Then he was gone. There were no more twinkles, no more hugs; all I have left are memories.

I stand here today knowing why I relay. When I first joined Relay for Life in August 2008 I joined to fight for a cure. I joined with the understanding cancer has touched me, but I NEVER EVER thought cancer would touch me how it has now. This evil disease is taking our loved ones from us. It needs to stop.

I relay for Stacey. A friend I met through relay who is one the strongest people I know. I relay for everyone in the park. I relay, because my Grandpa is not going to get to watch his grandchildren and great grandchildren grow and become what ever it is they are meant to become. I relay because he deserved to see his family grow. I relay so your grandparents and parents can watch their children and grandchildren grow. I relay for me. I relay because it is not fair that my Grandfather will not be here to see my little ones grow and change like a grandpa should.

Everyone here deserves to have everyone in their life watch their children become adults and make a difference in this world like we are making a difference with relay. I relay for those who want to give up. I relay for the fight. I relay because I know there is a cure out there. I relay because we should live our life’s without fear of cancer. I relay for more birthdays.

Cancer has touched everyone in the world, some in ways they never thought, others in ways they could not have imagined. Cancer needs to stop touching everyone. I relay.

Candles glow flickered with your last breath,

Sitting here crying;

As a chill lifted the room,

You surrounded me with one last hug.

Saying goodbye was hard to do,

No choice I had.

Free of pain,

No longer trapped.

Be in your happy place,

Among nature at its best.

In the garden,

In the forest in Tahoe,

Now with nature

Your free from all the sickness,

Roam,

Be free,

Soar among the birds you once fed,

Watch natures beauty,

Protect it.

Embrace us all with your love,

Love you back,

Sad to see you go,

Surround me with one last hug.

My Grandfather was diagnosed with cancer in January 2009. Three months later he took his last breath with his wife and children by his side. One of the last times I saw my Grandpa was the hardest. He did not recognize me. He stood across the room asking who I was in front of everyone. Then as soon as it registered who I was I saw the very last twinkle in my Grandpa’s eye. He came and gave me a hug. I stayed strong and did not shed a tear even though I wanted too.

Just a line

There comes a time in life when you realize you will always be just a line in a paragraph in someone else’s chapter. Or maybe you will actually be a whole paragraph, or maybe you were a whole chapter. This got me thinking. I do a lot of thinking. When I start to think sometimes I drive myself insane, I spin in circles, mentally in overdrive flying over speed bumps landing hard and giving myself whiplash. Stupid girl! Yes, I just called myself stupid, because that is what I am when I allow myself to spin in my own crazy thoughts. I know I am not the only one that spins crazy when thoughts get overwhelming.

I started writing this a few weeks ago and again I hated where it was going so I left it alone. I seem to be doing that I a lot. But I have a vision. I know what I want to write and what I do not. So, I let this sit here until I was ready to come back to it. I am still not sure I am ready to finish this piece, but for some reason here I sit typing away random nonsense that is filling my head hoping something will come of this.

Over the last several weeks I have realized many things that I think I just pushed aside for long periods of time, because I was not ready to face them. This is how this entry started. Maybe I was still afraid to face a few things when I started this, but I have decided that I can no longer live in fear. If I constantly walk around hiding and living in the shadows I will never allow myself to fully live. I want to live life to its fullest. I want to feel the sun kiss my skin, the wind chill me to my bones, I want to run in the rain, and breathe in the fresh smells of the seasons changing. I cannot do this if I hide from everything.

I do not want to be some line in someone else’s paragraph or chapter. I want to make my own story, my own path, when there is a fork in the road I want to be able to say I decided to take this path, because of blah blah blah and if you want to judge look in the mirror first. The only way I can do this is by allowing myself to stop hiding, to create my own story, and to welcome change.

Haters are going to hate. People are not going to like what I have to say. I must be okay with this. I am getting ready to share my blog on my social media pages with my family and friends that have no idea this exists. I am nervous, scared, but again I need to stop living in the shadows and embrace who I truly am. This is me. I am a writer. I am a powerful beautiful mother, woman, and just a down to earth girl who wants to live life to the fullest and stop letting everyone dictate how I live. I want to show my kids to live life and not be afraid of what anyone thinks of you. Everyone judges. It is in our nature. But it is up to everyone to choose how they handle the judgement. I have decided I will face it head on, and no longer be afraid. I am living for myself and my family. I need to be strong for us. I need to be true to who I am, own who I am, and show my children this. I want to be a great role model and I certainly do not want to settle to be just a line in a paragraph in someone else’s chapter. That is not who I am.

Used Tissue

Do you ever feel like you are someone else’s used tissue? They just wham, bam, smacked your ass, asked for a tissue to clean up their sticky mess and left you there going what the fucked just happened? Or their door mat? They wipe their fucking muddy ass boots all over it and shake it out when they feel the need to actually do something? Or maybe you are just an ATM. I need this, I need that. Fuck you!

I talk to many friends that are so unhappy in their situations. Or maybe some just love drama. But no seriously it is sad. I know there are three sides to every story. Each person’s side and the truth, but how many of us actually take the time to listen to all three sides? We don’t. We take sides. We join the drama. We add to the sticky mess in the tissue that can only hold so much.

But here’s the kicker! It is not just romantic relationships that have sticky used tissues, muddy door mats, or ATM abuse. Friendships go through the same mother fucking bullshit. Anyone have that friend who loves to swim in drama? Like a sperm finding an egg…yeah you know the one. They have to blame everyone for their bullshit lies. The lies that eventually karma will let slip and when that happens there will not be enough tissues to clean up that fucking mess. But like I said before; karma and me we tight bitches. I know how she works. I would never want to cross her again. She can be evil, your worst nightmare once she catches onto your games. You cannot run and hide from her. So, I just sit here waiting…

You can only be a used tissue, door mat, and an ATM for so long before you have had an enough. There are a very select few that know about my blog in my circle. I have been nervous to share it, because even though I do not care what others think about me, I do. But over the last few weeks I have grown stronger and I have realized why am I worrying? I am a used tissue and a door mat. I say FUCK THAT SHIT!

People can clean up their own damn sticky messes and shake out their own rugs. I love being here for my family and friends and I will always be someone they can count on. But to those who just use and abuse, blame their wrong doings on others….fuck that shit….clean up your own damn messes, because people who constantly choose themselves; yeah I do not have time for that bullshit. Need a box a tissues or tampons? Do us all a favor and drive yourself to the store and buy the product and stop blaming your problems on everyone else. Grow a pair of lady or man balls, look in the mirror, and face the fucking truth. The raw truth.

Heatherzilla

I can not hide anything. My face says everything. Want to know if I dislike you? Look at my face. Want to know if I like being around you? Look at my face. I have resting bitch face, no doubt about it, and it shows every emotion I feel. It is horrible. I wish there were times when I could shut it off. Be a chameleon. But then I would not be true to who I am. Better to be honest, blunt. It is not my fault if a person cannot handle it. Just means we are not meant to be friends. Move over, get out of my way, I do not have time for those who cannot handle the truth. The truth hurts. It can knock a person down. Get up. Dust yourself off. Grow from it. Remain positive. Keep facing the truth. It only makes you stronger.

I am probably annoyingly positive to a lot of people, but I do not give a shit. I walk around with this evil look of hate in my eyes, beautiful smile, fuck it all attitude, and always have a positive view on everything, at times. There are times when I let my eyes light up full of the happiness I feel to go along with my smile and attitude. Life is too short to be negative about everything. I am living for my children and myself. I will live how I want and if people do not like it, oh fucking well. Get your own life. Stop stalking me on social media, yeah you know who you are. Yes, calling out my haters; let’s face it you are a fan, cannot get enough, because here you are wondering if any of my entries are about you. Honey, if you are wondering, then they probably are.

Haha! For those of you that know me, can you picture my face right now?? Pure resting bitch face with the brightest smile lighting up my eyes! Yeah you all know the face!! LOL!!! Completely enjoying myself right now as I type away on the keyboard, listening to music in the background, the puppies snoring, and the kid’s laughter as they watch silly videos on YouTube.

I am a total bitch and I am okay with that. Some call it being a bitch, others call it being a blunt honest person, either way I truly do not care. I see no reason to apologize for who I am. I will either be accepted for me or not. I am happy and that is all that matters.

People judge. We judge ourselves. We are so worried about what others think. I have too much on my plate, worrying about what everyone thinks about me is something I have decided to push off to the side, dump in the trash can. If someone has a problem with me fine. That is their problem, not mine. I have decided to live life my way. One day at a time. Happy. No longer caring what anyone thinks about me.

It is amazing how changing my out look on life has changed so many things. Not allowing negative thoughts filter their way in every day has been a huge thing. Remembering there is light in every bit of darkness. More positive thoughts begin to out weigh the negative and just these simple changes make life better. It also helps that I no longer care what anyone thinks about me, whether they like me or not, and by no longer apologizing for every little thing has done wonders.

I may wear my emotions on face, like a road map, but truth be told I am okay with this. This way I do not have to baby step around everyone. Everyone already knows where they stand with me.

A Secret

Being a secret can be a rush. There is that excitement. The adrenaline that fills your body. The rush of it running through your veins can be addicting. It becomes a habit. We know right from wrong at such a young age, and yet so many are okay with being a secret. The side piece. The second choice. The extra piece of pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving that everyone knows if they have they will have to undo the top button of their jeans. And here we are…someone’s secret, or passed secret, because, well lessons learned. Karma is a bitch.

I will fully admit I was a secret. Many people know I was a secret. It was a huge lesson in my life. Karma became my best friend for a while. She and I are pretty close. We’re tight bitches. I am sitting here debating in my head how to put my thoughts into words, it is not admitting who I am that I fear, I know what I did, and I am not afraid to admit what wrongs I have done in my life. I like to think of myself as an open book. I am sitting here debating where to go with this entry. I want my writing to reflect the things I go through, what I face, who I truly am, the raw, the deep dark thoughts that run through my head. This is who I am.

When I first started writing this entry it was going in a different direction. I did not like the way I wrote anything after this last paragraph. I was stuck. I kept going back and forth on whether I should post this or not. I decided not too until I took another look at it. Then the words came to me on exactly what I was trying to say, and of course I had to be driving down the highway. Hate when that happens.

I may be a secret, have been a secret, still am a secret, but I have a secret. I hide so much emotion behind my smile, my eyes, that only those that truly know me know the ends and outs of my pain. The dark twisty path my beautiful soul walks every day. The things I have experienced most would not survive, but here I am with my secrets that have made me who I am that only few know.

I stand strong today. I wear gold wings of hope, I am a voice in someone else’s darkness, their strength for just a few minutes, letting them know everything will be alright, getting help sent their way. That little bit of light in the deepest darkness of suffocation where one feels there is no hope. I survived my dark twisty thorn scar filled path for a reason. To help others.

Slowly, over the years, I have shared my secrets of pain. I wear them on my sleeves, embrace the path life has led me, and I have learned how to grow from the pain. I can honestly say I love the woman I am becoming. No longer do I fear of the shadows that lurk in the darkness.

Yes, I was a secret. I learned a huge lesson. Karma is a bitch. Karma teaches lessons if you are willing to learn.

Some of you are probably curious about what I meant when I said, ‘I may be a secret, have been a secret, still am a secret, but have a secret.’ In time.

Red Roses

The scent of roses fills the air. Looking around I am surrounded by a sea of red, pink, and white. Vomit! Beautiful flower arrangements making my head spin as I can no longer contain my laughter at the ridiculous amount of effort people spend on one fucking day to show their love or possible love for a person. There’s 364 other days to show how much appreciate and love one has for another and yet most people wait until this one day to show it. Seriously? WTF?

I would rather get flowers any other day of the year except on Valentine’s Day or Mother’s Day. Those are days flowers are excepted.

My thoughts. Just because he got you a dozen beautiful red roses for Valentine’s Day does not mean he loves you. Sweetheart here are some simple hard truths; like I said before it’s expected to get flower’s on Valentines Day, and since when does receiving flowers mean someone loves you? Trust me flowers don’t mean shit. You can sit there and pull the petals; he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not. We do not live in a cartoon, a utopia, or a fantasy world. We live in a real world. A world where everyone is too sensitive to face the truth.

Now if you get your favorite flower on a random day thought went into it. The man knows you, he thought about you, he wanted to make you feel warm and melt on the inside. If the flower is in your favorite color, then damn that man better get him some extra loving between the sheets. Lol.

Cut flowers die. The water gets nasty and stinky. Potted flowers last. They represent growth, nurturing, love, and so much more than cut flowers. They are flowers you can replant and have a constant reminder of how the person feels about you. They grow as the relationship grows.

He loves me…he loves me not…he loves me…he loves me not…

Facing the truth sucks. It’s the worst. But at some point, we must do it. We have to look in the mirror, be brave, swallow our pride, and really be honest with ourselves. I know I can be the sweetest nicest person until someone pisses me off then I can become the biggest bitch out there. I walk around with resting bitch face because of this most people find me unapproachable or intimidating as I have been told lately. I was raised to take shit from no one. I am also not afraid of who I am and the things I have done. Why be afraid of who we truly are and the things we have chosen to do? Grow a pair, face the truth, and own who you are.

We’ve pulled the petals from the flowers, faced the truth (maybe), and still we sit here with these unrealistic thoughts that fill our heads, overwhelm our every emotion making us sensitive whiny people who complain about everything that does not go our way. For fucks sake you just decided a man loves you because he bought you roses on a fucking overrated holiday!! Ugh and I thought I had problems…I mean I do, but damn at least I am realistic lol…

Flowers don’t mean shit. You can pull all the petals you want or post all the pictures taken to show “love” or “happiness”, but its all show, what happens when the doors are closed? Or there’s no audience? That’s the raw truth…can you face it?

I am my worst enemy

I should be writing my essay for my English class, but sometimes life happens, and homework gets put on pause. Overthinking is my worst enemy. I fucking hate when my mind goes down a one way path the wrong fucking way and next thing I know I am dodging 5 million different what ifs, because I decided to go the wrong way. Seriously, where are the damn stop signs, someone break check me or something! Fuck!! You ever have those moments? Where you just cannot get your mind to stop? And of course it always has to happen right before bed….fml….maybe I will get lucky and writing my essay will help slow my mind down, doubtful, but one can hope.

As I am sitting here still overthinking, even though I know exactly what the issue is and how to fix it. I cannot help but at least laugh at myself realizing I am still a stupid fool who knows better. The girl who knows no matter how many ways I play it in my head, no matter which path I choose, no matter the amount of petals pulled, my answer is always going to be the same. Silly girl…it is better to leave the walls up and the heart always guarded.

I have learned many lessons in life and some I continue to test. Mistakes are made, but they are part of how I have become who I am. Each step, each mistake, each wrong turn, each lesson of every day of my life is a piece of me. Without my personal day to day adventures I would not be the person I am today, the good and the bad. We are each unique because of our own adventures. Thank goodness. I would not want to be like anyone else. I am glad I am who I am and have gone through the things I have, even the crappy stuff.

Tonight, I sit here reflecting on how I am in this mood I am in right at this moment. Is it the weather? This nasty bitter cold weather that has turn everything into ice? Or is it simply the fact that I have made decisions in my life that were difficult to make that have led to this point, this feeling I have right now? This heavy dark cloud of loneliness sitting above me weighing me down. Making the tears escape slowly from my eyes sliding down my cheeks as I type away at my keyboard knowing I need to get through this just to feel somewhat better that way I can finish my essay, go to bed, and wake up tomorrow morning to start a new day.

There is light in the darkest of moments. I just have to let it in.